A Rake's Redemption

by G. L. Snodgrass

  “They have been with you a long time?”

  A slow smile crossed Bradford’s face. “My first memories are of Evans teaching me how to play with my toy soldiers in my nursery. Not a butler’s normal function. Yet, he instinctively knew exactly what I needed. Mrs. Webb was my wet nurse, believe it or not. I knew her as the upstairs maid and when an opportunity arose, I promoted her to housekeeper.”

  Olivia smiled, he cared for his staff. They were almost like family to him. Careful, she told herself or you will grow to like him as much as you love him.

  “What about your excursion abroad. I must say, a boy of fifteen being allowed to travel. That does seem rather bold. How did you ever convince your mother to allow it?”

  He laughed, “She had no choice in the matter. By then, I had been Earl for eleven years. Her older brother, my Uncle Thomas had overseen the estates and the finances. He made sure that everything was done correctly and taught me what needed to be done.”

  His eyes drifted off as he recalled his youth.

  “He was rather taciturn. No, in reality, he was a stick in the mud.” Bradford said with a small chuckle. “But he was honest, and the Earldom might have suffered greatly without him.”

  Olivia nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from speaking. She had never heard Bradford discuss things like this before. Things about himself. She was determined not to interrupt him less he stop.

  “When Uncle Thomas died. I felt free, perhaps a little too free. I informed my mother that I was taking an excursion. Those were my exact words an excursion. Initially, she thought I was talking about visiting Scotland, maybe all the way to Ireland. But no, I was determined to see the world before Napoleon destroyed everything.”

  “Nathanial mentioned that he met you in India,” Olivia said, holding her breath. Desperately hoping her words were enough to keep him talking.

  Bradford smiled broadly. “Yes, in Bombay, on the streets. I had gotten myself into a little altercation. When I had extracted myself. Nathanial introduced himself. We became fast friends quickly. On the trip home, he taught me so much about ships and the sea. And the world itself.”

  Olivia smiled sadly, oh how she wished she could have been there with them. The adventures they must have shared. The experiences that had shaped them. But no, she had been stuck at home. Her wildest adventure had been climbing an apple tree.

  What kind of boy leaves home at fifteen just to see the world. Granted, he could afford it. But Nathanial had told her once. He had made a point of not exploring as a British Lord. But as a person simply curious with the world. A person who wanted to know the truth about things.

  She smiled to herself as she studied her hands in her lap. What question could she ask to keep him talking? she wondered. The boy had lost his father and been thrust into the Earldom so young. No. No need to bring up sad thoughts. It might make him hesitant to talk.

  “What more would you like to know, Olivia,” he said with that silly smirk of his. Once again reading her mind so easily. It was enough to make a woman want to scream.

  She shrugged her shoulders. Determined not to let him know that his jab had hit its mark.

  “Do you gamble?” she asked. “Most men do, I am led to understand. But I wondered if you do and if it is very deep.”

  He smiled softly. “Occasionally, but never for heavy stakes. Well, except for this latest wager with Warwick.”

  She frowned, silently asking him to explain.

  He frowned back at her. “I assumed either Nathanial or Lady Alice would have told you.”

  Olivia shook her head, her heart suddenly jumping just a little. Had her brother kept secrets from her?

  Bradford laughed as he shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t a great deal, two thousand pounds.”

  “And what was the wager?” Olivia asked while she internally resisted the urge to correct him. Two thousand pounds was a lot in anyone’s world.

  “Who would marry first,” Bradford said as if it were a lark. “Nathanial lost, of course. So, Warwick and I extended the wager. The man to marry first had to pay the other. Not a big thing. But I use it to illustrate the extent of my wagering and I can assure you that you need not fear I will gamble away our fortune.”

  Olivia’s stomach fell. She could care less about their fortune. What bothered her to her very core was the realization of just how much he had sacrificed to marry her. Bradford hated to lose almost as much as she did. If he had proposed marriage to save her, all the while knowing that he would lose the wager. It must have eaten at his very soul.

  One more thing to add to the list of things she could never repay him for. One more thing to be beholden for. A fact that scrambled her insides.

  Later that afternoon as the coach pulled to a stop in front of the Basingstoke manor, Olivia’s stomach tightened. She was a countess, she reminded herself. Once more she would be judged and evaluated on her performance.

  The impression she made might very well set the standard for years to come. As she allowed Bradford to hand her down out of the coach she looked up for her first view of her new home. A large, rectangular building. Four floors, made of yellow stone. Large windows, and more chimneys than a Sheffield foundry.

  She had no sooner than oriented herself when a stable boy rushed pass her to take charge of the horses for the second coach.

  “John Stewart, is that you?” she asked.

  The boy from the inn turned and smiled as he touched his forehead. “Yes, M’Lady.”

  Olivia smiled at him. “Are you liking it here?”

  His smile grew even wider as he pulled at the horses’ halter to keep them under control. “Oh yes, M’Lady. They don’t beat you here.”

  Olivia almost gasped and shot Bradford a quick look. Somehow the man had known the boy's situation and offered him an escape. Once again, she was reminded of the two different worlds and how much she owed her family. It was only because of the actions by her father and later by Nathanial that had allowed her to be elevated to this status.

  It had been nothing she had accomplished herself. Not really. The thought reminded her of why she had been so willing to go along with this marriage. She refused to shame her family. Not after they had done so much for her. It would be a betrayal of the worst kind.

  “Well, it is nice to know you are here. Do me a favor. Please keep an eye out for a gentle mare for me to ride. I will want to explore the estate over the next few days.”

  “Of course, M’Lady,” the stable boy said with a small bow.

  Bradford cleared his throat. “Tell Billy that I recommend Bell. And if her Ladyship goes riding, you make sure to accompany her.”

  “Yes, M’Lord, of course.”

  Olivia frowned. “Really Bradford I do know how to ride. I don’t need an escort.”

  He smiled slightly, “Humor me Olivia, please. I would forbid you from riding, but I know I would be ignored. And none of the footmen can ride worth anything. So, John here will have to go with you. At least until you become familiar with Basingstoke. Promise me, you will not wander away from the estate without an escort. Are we agreed?”

  Olivia studied him for a moment and realized that he was deadly serious. The kidnapping, she realized. The men had not been caught and Bradford was concerned for her safety. A warm sensation traveled through her at his concern. He might not care for her, but he was protective. She would have to be happy with that.

  “Of course, My Lord,” she said to him. “And if I am taken again, I will endeavor to keep them within the local area so you do not have to ride too far.”

  He laughed as he slipped her hand under his arm and escorted her into the house. She realized that she liked his laugh. Honest and open. A man’s laugh.

  As Olivia’s eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. Evans stepped forward and bowed.

  “I do apologize, My Lady. It will take a few minutes to get the staff organized so that I can introduce you.”

  Olivia waved her hand. “Don’t
worry Evans. Why don’t we do it later. In fact, I would prefer to meet everyone as they go about their day. No need to make a fuss. If that is acceptable.”

  “Of course, My Lady,” Evans said with a small smile, obviously pleased that he would not have to interrupt everyone in the middle of their tasks. “I will show you to your room, My Lady.”

  Olivia made sure Mary was in tow as she followed Evans up the large staircase. Looking back, she noticed that Bradford had already departed without saying anything. Probably already lost in his study. Oh well, she reminded herself. What could she expect from a marriage of convenience?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lord Bradford sighed heavily. It had been a living torture. Ten days in the same house with the woman and he could do nothing. Every instinct told him to pursue, chase, to persuade. If that didn’t work, then he should demand.

  She was his wife after all. The woman should be in his bed. There was no other reality. But he couldn’t. No, if he did, she would think he cared. That he needed her and under no circumstance could that be allowed to happen. If she thought she held power over him she would be relentless in her use of it.

  He could well imagine that smirk of hers reminding him that she controlled him.

  What then? he thought as he paced back and forth in his study.

  She had enjoyed herself, of that he was sure. The soft moans and the gasps of pure pleasure left no doubt. No, that was not the issue. Then what? Why hadn’t the woman wanted more? Her lack of interest could make a man doubt himself.

  Sighing heavily, he turned to retrace his steps.

  No, there was only one way, he must tempt her. Remind her of what she was forgoing. But he must do so without letting her become aware of his intentions. If she thought he was seducing her, she would know why. And would use that against him.

  Even worse, she might feel as if he were pressuring her. She might think that he was going back on his promise to her. No, he must make her want him so badly that she could not stop herself from asking him back to her bed.

  With the realization of what he must do, Bradford stopped pacing and stared out the window. Yes, it might work.

  .o0o.

  Olivia tossed to her side, frustrated with some unknown need. Her beautiful bed felt like a prison. Two weeks they had been married. Two weeks of stomach gnawing frustration. The man was insufferable.

  It seemed as if the man was going out of his way to remind her of what she had lost. A glance, A touch. Subtle reminders.

  Yesterday, when asked, Evans had informed her that his Lordship was helping to repair a fence behind the barn. Olivia had frowned at the idea of an English Lord doing manual labor. She didn’t believe she had ever heard of such a thing.

  Evans had seen her obvious confusion and informed her that his Lordship often joined the men in the fields. “He says it helps him stay in touch with their lives. But if you ask me, he enjoys it. For a few hours, he can put aside the burdens of his title.”

  Olivia had been shocked at first, but assumed Bradford knew what he was doing. A short time later however, she found herself rounding the corner of the barn to be surprised at finding Bradford, shirtless, swinging a massive hammer, driving a post into the ground.

  As he brought the hammer down, every muscle had rippled with pure strength. His wound no longer seemed to be an issue. In fact, his form was flawless.

  She stared for several minutes, taking in every detail. Her mind raced as her heart pounded in her chest until he looked up and caught her watching. A small smirk had crossed his lips. She had swallowed hard and turned to flee before he read her mind. If he had looked into her eyes he would have seen the burning need inside of her. No. that could not be allowed to happen.

  Even now, two days later, her mind could not erase the image. The man was a sculpted god.

  Then last night, after a nice dinner where they had discussed family, the estate, neighbors she would need to meet, and other aspects of their life, he had surprised her by asking if she played chess.

  Olivia’s mind froze for a second before she could tell him that she did. Nathanial had taught her years ago. Girls weren’t supposed to like such things, but Nathanial had never cared what people thought.

  “Yes, Nathanial taught me.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Then you will be good. Would you like a game?”

  Again, she froze. Most evenings he slunk off to his study after dinner. Leaving her to her own entertainment. But he was now offering to play her a game of chess. Would miracles never cease?

  “Of course. That sounds lovely. Do you and Nathanial play?”

  He laughed. “Not anymore.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “He doesn’t like losing. Have you ever noticed that about him? The man cannot stand to be defeated.”

  “It is a family trait,” she replied before she could stop herself.

  He laughed gently but did not disagree. The game went well, she lost, but she didn’t mind too much. Bradford was so obviously better than her, she couldn’t be expected to hold her own.

  Once the set was put away, he turned to her, took her hand, sending a tingle through her body.

  “You play very well, Olivia,” he said. “I am impressed. With a little practice, I am sure you will soon match my level. I always knew you were intelligent. Just not how much. Well done.”

  Her mouth dropped. Had Bradford just given her a compliment? No. Surely, she was mistaken. No, he had. He really thought she was intelligent. And why had she lost all feeling in her hand?

  He had smiled, his teeth flashing white, then bid her goodnight, leaving her alone in the parlor. For the briefest seconds, she felt an overwhelming need to rush after him. To stop him from leaving. To ask him to take her to his bed. No, if necessary, to beg.

  Gritting her teeth, she had pushed the thought away. Control, she reminded herself. Always control. Sighing heavily, she had slumped on the settee and cursed herself for ever making such a stupid bargain.

  Now, this morning, she continued to toss and turn in her bed. Unable to push away the thought of Bradford covering her. Filling her. Taking her. Every part of her body shivered with the memory of what it had been like.

  Throwing her covers aside, she pulled the bell rope for Mary. This could not be allowed to continue. Once she had bathed and broken her fast, she hunted down Evans and inquired after His Lordship.

  Evans told her that his Lordship was probably at the pond. “But My Lady,” he added with a frown. “He prefers not to be disturbed when he goes there. It is his sanctuary.”

  Olivia had balked for a second but then shook off her doubt. No, she needed to do this now or it might never be done. He was alone, away from others. She could do this now. It would be easier. Thanking Evans, she stepped out into the gardens and made her way to the pond.

  A tall hedgerow separated the pond from the gardens and the house. Creating a small, separate space.

  As she rounded the hedge she froze. There was Bradford, dressed in only a white linen shirt and rough woolen pants. His back to her, she halted and stared. Unknowingly licking her lips at the sight of his wide shoulders and strong back.

  The man was feeding bread to the ducks in the pond. A blue and green tufted Drake, his brown spotted spouse and a dozen adorable ducklings were paddling around a few feet out in the water. Scrambling for chunks of bread as His Lordship tossed them.

  “Bradford, what are you doing?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  He startled for a moment then turned to look over his shoulders. “I don’t know about the Caldwell household. But here in Basingstoke, we call it feeding ducks.”

  Olivia laughed at herself, he was right, her question had been idiotic.

  “I mean why?” she said as she stepped up next to him, catching a hint of his sandalwood scent that ignited memories in her she couldn’t deal with at the moment. It was important that she stay focused. Business like. It was the only way she could get through this.

/>   The man was so tall, so big. Just standing next to him made her feel small, feminine. A feeling she could grow to treasure.

  “Because they are hungry,” he answered with a smirk.

  “Bradford, they are ducks. They eat grass,” she replied, refusing to let him dismiss her to easily.

  He shrugged his shoulders and tossed another chunk of bread. The Drake caught it in mid-air but dropped a piece for his mate.

  “Here,” Bradford said as he tore off a chunk of bread and handed it to her. “But don’t tell cook. She gets upset when I steal a loaf. She says it is not her job to feed half the ducks of England.”

  Oliva took the bread and started feeding the ducks, making a point to aim for the babies. “Evans said you didn’t like to be disturbed here,” she said hesitantly. “I am sorry if I bothered you.”

  He smiled down at her and shook his head. “It is perfectly all right. I am just avoiding a pile of reports.”

  Olivia tossed another piece of bread and examined her surroundings. A small stream spill over rocks into the pond. Almost an acre of still black water. Willows lined the far bank, their branches skimming across the top of the water. At the far end, the pond gurgled over a small wooden damn and then fell off into the distant valley.

  A calm breeze brought her the scent of wildflowers and distant hay fields.

  “It is peaceful. I can see why you like it so much,” she said as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  He nodded. “When I was overseas, this was the spot I missed the most. The one place I dreamed about at night.”

  Her heart broke a little, it was hard to imagine Bradford missing anything. Oh, how she wished he could miss her, dream of her.

  “Here, Olivia,” he said as he tossed the last of his bread to the ducks. “Why don’t we have a seat? The longer I can delay those reports the better.”

  She followed his direction and saw a wooden bench that had been installed next to the hedge. The perfect spot to catch the afternoon sun.

  He placed a hand on the small of her back and gently guided her across the grass. Her insides turned over at his touch. Such a simple thing, possessive, protective, and tantalizing. A hot flame spread from where his fingers brushed against her back.