She could feel Lord Hartfield tighten up behind her as he realized the same thing.
“Get the others,” Olivia yelled. Afraid that Bradford might very well attack the man alone, unarmed.
Bradford ignored her as he stared at Lord Hartfield, all the while, slowly advancing. “Just so the record is correct,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “You didn’t love her first. I have loved her ever since she fell out of that apple tree.”
Olivia’s heart melted. Was it true? Did he really mean it? Had he loved her as long as she had loved him? Or was it a ruse? A way to distract her abductor.
“Bradford,” she whispered, unable to believe how her heart ached for him.
He smiled slightly then smirked as he shrugged his shoulders. As if apologizing to her. And still he continued advancing towards them. Lord Hartfield continued to back up with Olivia in his arms until he came up against the fence.
Olivia felt the nervousness and fear rising inside of him. He is terrified, she realized. Like a trapped animal with no escape.
“Really Hartfield, you should have thought this through. How could you ever think I would let you take my wife. The woman I love. No, it was never going to happen.”
Lord Hartfield continued to wave the sword back and forth, desperately trying to keep Bradford from getting closer. He was wasting his time Olivia realized. Nothing would stop Bradford. Nothing would stop her man.
Bradford stepped up, finally stopping when he was close enough for Lord Hartfield to rest the tip of his sword against Bradford’s chest. Olivia held her breath, afraid to move unless Lord Hartfield thrust the blade into her love. Ending his life before she could tell him all she needed to tell him.
Her husband seemed unconcerned as he took his eyes off Lord Hartfield, all the while the sword point began to slice into his coat. Olivia’s heart pounded so hard she was sure it would explode. This couldn’t go on. Surely Bradford would be killed.
“Are you all right, My Dear,” he asked, as if he were concerned about her getting caught in the rain.
Lord Hartfield twisted to look for a way to escape. That was all that Bradford needed. His hand shot out like a striking snake and snapped around Hartfield’s wrist.
“Unhand my wife,” he said calmly as he slowly pulled Lord Hartfield’s arm away. Once it had been moved aside a few inches Bradford began squeezing. As she watched she saw an anger in her husband that she had never imaged could reside there.
His face grew red as his eye bore into Lord Hartfield. “I said, unhand my wife,” he repeated as he gave a quick twist. Olivia heard a sharp snap and the sword fell to the ground with a clink sound that echoed through the garden.
It was all she needed as she twisted out from Lord Hartfield’s grip and scurried around behind Bradford.
“Don’t kill him,” she said to her husband. Suddenly the thought of that sin weighing on her husband for the rest of his life was too much.
Bradford turned to look at her, his glare telling her how much he resented her request. But at last he nodded.
“Very well, Olivia. As always, you are in charge,” her husband said.
She sighed as she leaned herself against his back. Her husband. The man she loved more than anything in this world. It didn’t matter if his words had been a ruse. She knew how she felt and that was all that mattered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Olivia paced back and forth in the blue room. Her heart raced faster than she thought possible as her entire body trembled with nervousness.
It is over, she told herself. Hartfield and Cooper were being taken to the king’s men by Jocko and Warwick. Their guests were subtly being urged to leave by Lady Weston. No one knew a thing about what happened. There would be no repeat of the rumors and scandal.
Even Lady Alice had come downstairs to check on her. She had leaned on Nathanial’s arm the entire time. But she refused to be held back and had not relaxed until she realized that Olivia was perfectly all right.
Amanda had stared at her with big eyes, refusing to leave her side until Olivia had gently asked to be left alone so that she could compose herself.
No, it was over. But that was not what made her so nervous. It was Bradford.
She continued to pace back and forth until at last the door cracked and her husband stepped in.
“How are you, My Dear?” he asked, his solicitous tone sending a warm feeling through her that wanted to make her cry.
She stopped in her tracks and studied him for a moment. Handsome, and so brave, she shuddered thinking about that sword pushing into his chest. Dashing and oh so strong. Yet, here he was, gentle enough to worry about her wellbeing. Gentle yet fierce, she realized.
The two of them stood there, both of them looking at the other. Neither willing to make the first move. Neither willing to say the first words.
At last, Olivia could tolerate the tension no longer. “We need to talk,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“Of course,” he replied as he closed the door behind him.
Pausing for a second, she tried to gather her thoughts but couldn’t wrap her mind around exactly what she wanted to say. The ramifications were too critical. The man drove her to distraction. Even now, she wished nothing more than for him to take her into his arms and never let go.
“First off, Bradford,” she began, “thank you. Thank you for once again rescuing me.”
He dipped his head in acceptance of her gratitude.
“As for the words you said to Lord Hartfield. I realize …”
He stepped forward, holding up a quick hand. Silencing her before she could finish.
“I meant every word,” he said, with a regretful look that confused her.
“I realize,” he continued, “that you feel no such thing yourself. But I believe it is best if we go forward with the truth between us. I am in love with you Olivia. I always have been, I realize now. I apologize, but I cannot change the way I feel. You needn’t fear, this will not change our arrangement. But I can no longer pretend otherwise. You control my heart.”
Olivia’s heart slammed to a sudden halt. “Bradford,” she whispered.
He shrugged his shoulders. A man willing to accept his fate.
Olivia’s world had stopped spinning and felt off kilter. How was this possible? Was it true? Yes, she realized, she could see it in his eyes, and Bradford never lied. Never.
Without thinking she rushed to him and threw her arms around him. “Bradford,” she said as she hugged him tightly, savoring his strong arms around her. “I am yours,” she said. “I have always been yours.”
She looked up to see him frowning down at her. “Just so we are not mistaken,” she said with a smile, “I fell in love with you before I fell out of that damn apple tree. In fact, it was the sudden realization that contributed to my falling. The most gorgeous man had entered my world. How could I not fall in love with you?”
A slow smile spread across his lips.
“That is right, she said. “You won before we even knew we were fighting.”
He laughed, his chest shaking. “Oh Olivia, you make life so interesting. I do believe I am going to enjoy sharing it with you.”
She smiled to herself as she laid her head once again on his chest.
“Does this mean that our agreement is no longer in force?” He asked.
Olivia smiled up at him with a saucy grin. “I never want to hear another word about that agreement again. In fact, I expect you take me here and now.”
He laughed, “You are not in charge anymore, remember?”
She looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow. “Does that mean, No?”
He laughed again, “Of course not. I just wanted to make sure you realized that I want you as much as you want me. This is both of us surrendering.”
Olivia shook her head and reached up to kiss him.
“Shut up, James, and hurry,” she said as she pulled him to her.
Bradford laughed as he acceded to her wish.
Epilogue
The fresh summer breeze brushed against her cheek as Olivia made her way through the garden and around the hedge. There they were just as she suspected. James and their four-year-old son Anthony. Her heart melted just as it did whenever she saw them together.
Anthony’s face screwed up in concentration as he tossed the bread to the ducks.
“What are you two doing?” she asked as she passed baby Arabella to the nurse.
Anthony turned and frowned at her. “We are feeding the ducks, Mommy.”
She smiled to herself. The look on his face was the same one his father gave her when she asked a ridiculous question.
“Does Cook know you took some bread from the kitchen?”
Anthony’s eyes grew big with fear. The only person in this world he was truly afraid of was Cook. She had the power of the raspberry tart. Upset her, and he might very well never see one again.
“Daddy did it,” Anthony said quickly, discarding his father. Nothing could be allowed to threaten his continued consumption of raspberry tarts.
James laughed as he tossed another piece of bread to the mallards in the center of the pond.
Reaching over, she pulled Arabella’s bonnet down to protect her face from the afternoon sun, then smiled when the baby grinned at her, flashing a brand new tooth. Oh, how she loved her children, she thought. The reason for this life.
“I need you to go with Nurse,” Olivia told her son. “It is time for your afternoon rest. I need to talk to your father.
Anthony glanced up at his father to see if he really had to go. He was doing that more often, she realized. Looking to James for guidance. Already breaking away from her.
James nodded his head, “Listen to your mother,” he said as he shot her a quick glance, obviously curious what they needed to discuss.
Anthony’s shoulders slumped with resignation as he turned and took nurse’s hand.
Olivia watched as her children departed. Her heart swelled with love. They were such a joy. Turning back to her husband she let her eyes roam over his body. The man was so male. So heart aching attractive that her body constantly craved his touch.
James threw the last piece of bread, dusted off his hands, then turned to his wife, raising a single eyebrow. “Lady Bradford?”
She sighed heavily as she gestured towards the bench. Their bench. She would always view it as just theirs.
James waited until she was comfortable then sat down next to her, his leg resting next to hers as he took her hand in his.
She studied him for a long moment then said, “James, I have been thinking, perhaps it is time for me to have another child. Don’t you think that Anthony would like a little brother?”
James studied his wife for a long moment then leaned down to kiss her, his hands roaming possessively over her body.
“Not here,” she exclaimed as she held his hand, stopping it from going where he wanted.
He looked deep into her eyes and smiled. “Yes, here. I need you now.”
Her insides melted as her body reacted. How could she ever refuse him? The man controlled her with but a word.
Smiling to herself, she pulled him into a deep kiss. He didn’t need to know that this was exactly what she wanted. What she would always want.
The End
Challenging A Rake
Chapter One
Sighing heavily, Amanda Waters pushed her spectacles back to the bridge of her nose and tried re-reading the page, but within moments, her mind began to wander once again.
Her life was passing her by. At the ripe old age of twenty, she felt suffocated with a strange malaise. The kind of empty feeling that demanded to be filled.
All of her friends were married, Both Lady Alice and Olivia had children. Was that it, she wondered? Was she jealous? Perhaps. But it was more. That feeling of lost opportunity. A feeling of … to be honest … boredom. No, worse, loneliness.
Her father had left her well enough off that she need never fear about finances. But not so well off that she was pursued by fortune hunters. The house was in her name, a very rare occurrence in England these days. But her father had been an excellent banker and worked his ways around the law. Of course, it helped having Nathanial Caldwell as a family friend.
So, no, that was not a concern.
Then what was it? she wondered as she stared into the fire. Why this sense of anxiety? Why this constant worrying about something she couldn’t even identify.
“Get ahold of yourself, Amanda,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to focus on the book in her hands. A tale of Magellan’s exploration, in Latin of course. Normally the book would have consumed her. The adventure, the new discoveries. But now it failed to hold her interest.
She had actually made it halfway down the page when a soft knock at the parlor door pulled her out of the story. Young Molly entered and dipped a quick curtsey.
“If that is all Mum,” the young maid said. “I will be off to bed.”
Amanda smiled at the girl and nodded. Rescued from a hard life, the young woman had turned out to be an excellent maid. “Of course Molly, thank you.”
Molly paused for a moment, “Any more thought about taking on a footman, Mum?” she asked. The look of trepidation in her eyes reached Amanda’s heart.
Amanda sighed internally, Molly was just expressing her fears. The same fears Amanda felt most nights. Two women alone in the house. Cook had already departed for the evening, going home to her own family. Leaving just Molly and herself. London was not a kind environment for young women alone.
“I am still thinking about it, Molly.”
The maid nodded then curtsied one last time before closing the door behind her.
No, Amanda thought to herself. Don’t be ridiculous. She did not need a man’s protection. Besides. There really wasn’t enough for Molly to do as it was. How would a butler or footman fill his time? No, definitely not. The one thing Amanda despised was inefficiency.
Taking a deep breath, Amanda once again began reading. She was determined to at least reach the part about Magellan’s travails around Cape Horn.
For a small while, she forgot about her malaise, her boredom and became lost in the story.
A soft noise outside interrupted her. She looked up and realized her candle had burned almost half-way and the fire had died down to a few glowing embers. She had read much longer than she had planned.
A repeat of the noise made her jump. Louder this time. On the front steps. Was someone trying to get into the house? No, obviously they would have attempted the back door or one of the lower windows. The front door could be seen from the street too easily.
At least that was what she would have done if she was a burglar. So surely, the professionals would be at least that intelligent.
Then what?
Marking her book, she set it aside and started for the front door then thought better of it and retrieved a fire iron from the rack. She smiled to herself, it was amazing what a heavy iron in your fist could do for one’s confidence.
“Who’s there?” she hissed when she reached the front door.
There was no response, but then a heavy thud against the door made her jump back with fear.
A deep voice from the other side said, “Please,”
Amanda froze, the voice sounded in pain, in need. Surely she couldn’t ignore it. But to open her door at this time at night was foolish.
“Please,” the voice said again.
Amanda sighed heavily and shook her head. She knew she was making a mistake but she couldn’t stop herself. Someone needed her help. Besides, she had her fire iron.
Throwing the bolt, she slowly cracked the door to look outside. Holding the candle up to see who was there.
A man, obviously injured according to all the blood, leaned against the door jam. His face hidden in shadows. He was dressed as a common laborer, with wool pants and a heavy woolen sweater.
“Please,” he gasped one more time, as he fell through the
doorway and onto her floor.
Amanda’s heart raced. “Lord Warwick,” she gasped as she looked down on Olivia and Nathanial’s good friend. The man was too handsome and too familiar to her to ever be disguised by workman’s clothes.
His dark hair was wet with the night mist and his eyes looked up at her, fighting to stay coherent. He grimaced as he lifted himself on an elbow and tried to sit up.
“My apologies Miss Amanda,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you were the closest.”
A thousand thoughts rushed through her mind. Lord Warwick, the Seventh Earl of Warwick to be precise, was bleeding all over her entryway.
Dismissing the fears and questions dancing around in her head, she closed the front door but not before looking outside to ensure he was not being pursued.
Seeing the dark street empty in the moonlight, she slammed the bolt home and turned to kneel next to him.
“Lord Warwick,” she said with disbelief. “What happened?”
He smiled weakly, “I have been shot. Twice in fact,”
She bit back a sarcastic response. She could see that he had been shot. What she wanted to know was why. But that could come later, she realized. Now she needed to focus on keeping him alive.
“I will send for a doctor.” She told him then turned to yell for Molly. While waiting for her maid, she grabbed a lace doily from a side table, folded it several times and held it over the wound in his shoulder.
“No,” Lord Warwick said as his blood covered hand reached up to grasp her arm. “No doctor.”
Amanda turned back to him. Obviously, the loss of blood was affecting his judgment.
“Lord Warwick,” she said with a stern look. “I can promise you that I know nothing about treating gunshot wounds. Except for what I have read, of course. And, as I refuse to allow you to die in my entrance way. I will be sending for a doctor.”
His response was interrupted by Molly rushing down the hall in her robe. Coming to a sliding halt when she saw the injured man on the floor, she paused, her eyes as big as saucers, as she stared at him, then at Amanda and then back at him.
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