Jem glanced at Olivia. ‘Untie your horse.’
He had thought this all through! Relieved, for her mind was almost overcome by her sudden change in fortune, Olivia hurried behind the carriage and liberated Faith’s mare. She stroked the horse’s face briefly, speaking soothing words to her, then drew her across to the milestone at the side of the road, which she perched on in order to mount.
Returning to Jem’s side, she flashed him a brief smile. She was free—and it was Jem who had rescued her!
‘It is not for me to tell you what you should do,’ said Jem to George, ‘but, if it were me, I should be leaving for the Continent before the Earl of Shalford catches up with the people who abducted his sister. Twice.’
Not waiting for a reply, he wished them a polite ‘good day’ and wheeled around, Olivia by his side. Her last sight of George and Emma was their set faces, grim with anger.
Jem looked over his shoulder as they cantered back down the road towards the crossroads. ‘Gunn has jumped down and is searching for his shotgun. Let us make haste, in case he should decide to send a parting blast our way.’
Thy spurred their horses to the gallop and soon the carriage—and its armed driver—were left far behind. ‘Was Manning armed?’ Jem asked, not slowing his pace.
‘I believe not,’ Olivia replied. Then the implications of his words dawned on her. ‘Do you mean to say you approached the carriage without knowing if he was armed or not?’
Jem grinned. ‘Reckless, wasn’t it? I do have Foxley’s pistols, of course, but, yes, I had no idea what I would find. Will told me that Gunn had a shotgun, but I saw that the carriage driver had been punched, not shot. It gave me hope that they were trying to avoid actually murdering anyone.’
Olivia shuddered. ‘Gunn must have hit him. He was threatening to kill George when I arrived. But you should not have taken such a risk!’
What if Jem had been killed? Her blood ran cold at the very thought.
‘I had to do it, Olivia. You were in danger.’ His tone was compelling. Olivia looked at him and the expression in his eyes was all she could wish.
She smiled shyly, then frowned. ‘So—what do you think will happen now? Gunn threatened to turn George and Emma over to the magistrate. He had said he would, if I escaped again.’
‘Did he?’ Jem frowned. ‘I did not anticipate that. I assumed they were all working together on your abduction, like last time.’
Olivia shook her head. ‘Gunn was angry that he hadn’t been paid. He told George, when they took me, that it was George’s last chance.’
‘I think their priority now will be to try to escape before Adam and Foxley’s men catch up with them.’ said Jem. ‘I suspect they will aim for the coast. Their best chance will be to work together. The Mannings need a driver, and Gunn needs someone who will plan and make decisions.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘They are hobbled together in a mess of their own making!’
‘Indeed,’ Olivia agreed, remembering their cruelty in the carriage. ‘I am glad that they are truly gone this time.’
By unspoken consent, they had slowed their horses to a walk, the better to converse.
Jem grimaced. ‘Foxley will inform the magistrate, who will send word through his connections. Gunn’s strange-looking horse and Manning’s broken nose will be noticeable everywhere they go. They will be caught, unless they leave for France immediately.’
‘But they have no money for their passage.’ Olivia shuddered. ‘What will happen to them?’
‘Transportation, most likely. A few years’ hard labour in New South Wales.’
They had turned at the crossroads and now discovered the road to Monkton Park was blocked by an overturned cart with a broken axle. There was nobody around it, but its cargo of hay was piled all over the road.
‘The cart!’ Olivia exclaimed. ‘I think Gunn ran it off the road.’
‘He did,’ confirmed Jem. ‘The farmer was most discommoded and has had to ride bareback to Little Norton to seek assistance.’ He frowned. ‘We shall have to go through the field, I think.’ He patted his horse’s neck. ‘This fellow jumped it perfectly on the way out, but he is exhausted now. And I would not ask you to make such a jump side-saddle.’
He jumped down and opened the gate, leading his horse through. Olivia followed. After closing the gate again, Jem turned to catch Olivia as she dismounted.
Although she was a competent horsewoman and had no need of assistance, they both conveniently overlooked this fact. She landed lightly on the springy turf, his arms on hers, and was conscious that they both lingered a little longer than they should before Jem’s arms dropped to his side.
Olivia’s heart, stomach and gut were being severely tested today. First, the exhilaration of waking up this morning with her thoughts full of Jem, then the fear and distress she had experienced with Gunn and the Mannings. And now, her heart was racing again—this time in excitement. Finally, she was alone with Jem.
They walked towards a small stream running along the edge of the field, allowed the horses to drink a little, then turned and continued through the lush grass, all the while leading their horses and keeping parallel to the road. The scene was idyllic—sunshine on green meadows, a stand of oak trees in the distance and, somewhere close by, a bee humming among flowering hedgerows.
Jem stopped. ‘Shall we rest here for a moment?’
Olivia agreed, sat down on the lush grass and arranged her skirts. Jem threw up the reins of both horses and allowed them to graze.
In truth, Olivia was glad of a chance to pause now that the danger was past. She looked up at him. ‘That was hideous,’ she said frankly, ‘but I always knew that you—that someone would come for me and that all I had to do was to stop them from harming me in the meantime.’
He sat down beside her and took her hand, his face anguished. ‘And did they harm you?’
She shuddered, remembering Emma’s slaps, George’s assault on her. ‘It was not a pleasant experience,’ she said carefully, ‘and I promise to tell you later about it. But, would you mind if we do not—? I mean, right now, I am happy to be here in the sunshine, safe.’ She eyed him directly. ‘Safe with you.’
He caught his breath. ‘Olivia, if you only knew how much I wanted to see you safe. I was so angry with Manning—and with myself for my blind stupidity. I should have seen how ruthless he was. But I knew one thing. I would have gladly given up my own life to rescue you.’ His deep blue eyes gazed into hers, blazing with sincerity.
‘That is—’ She swallowed. ‘That is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me. And the most terrifying.’
He blinked. ‘Terrifying? Why is it terrifying?’
She took a deep breath. Now is the time, she thought. Say it!
‘Because if you were dead, then I might as well be dead, too.’
For an instant, he looked at her blankly, as if doubting her meaning. Then his gaze cleared, a look of wonder replacing the confusion. ‘Truly?’ He reached towards her, his hands gently sliding up her arms. ‘Please tell me now, before my heart explodes in my chest. Is it possible that you feel for me something of what I feel for you?’
She sent him a mischievous smile. ‘That depends on what it is that you feel for me. If you are asking if I love you, then, yes. Yes, I do.’
He did not reply with words. He simply took her in his arms and kissed her. And what a kiss! It was as if the danger they had faced, the real fear of losing each other for ever, came through in the hunger and relief with which they kissed each other. Olivia felt as though her body was on fire. This was where she was meant to be. In Jem’s arms.
‘Oh, Olivia, my love!’ he murmured against her mouth. He moved back slightly to gaze at her. ‘I cannot believe that you love me. I must be the luckiest man in history.’
‘It is I who am the lucky one,’ she retorted happily. ‘Until very recently, I did
not know my own heart and I might have lost you.’
He gave her a crooked smile. ‘You really wouldn’t have, you know.’
‘But you might have fallen in love with someone else—Amy Turner, perhaps. My stupidity was so complete that I had told myself that what I had felt for you before was a young girl’s infatuation.’
He spoke carefully. ‘Miss Turner is a dear, sweet girl, but my heart has been yours ever since you cajoled and bullied me into trying to walk again, in your garden in London.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘What? In London? Four years ago?’ He nodded. ‘But you treated me with such politeness! You indulged me as though I were twelve! And then you left me!’
He heard the anguish in her tone. ‘I did, didn’t I? I suspected that you were not indifferent to me. But I assumed you would experience many such infatuations before you were old enough to know your heart. I am so sorry.’
She considered this, trying to be fair. ‘It is true that I did not understand then how deeply I loved you. It was after you had gone that I knew it beyond doubt. I was miserable. And even then, I convinced myself last month that it had been a case of an old tendre and that I should be friendly towards you, not expecting or seeking anything more.’
‘I, too, tried to convince myself that my feelings for you had been a passing fancy. Yet I never forgot you, all those years I was away. And then I came back and your friendship almost slayed me,’ he growled. ‘I was wild trying to get you to truly see me—and not just as a friend.’
The irony—both of them had wanted more than friendship, yet had not known how to bring it about.
A new thought struck her. ‘But you cannot have known back then, four years ago, that you loved me?’
‘Oh, I suspected it. But how was I to woo my Captain’s younger sister, a girl of only eighteen, whose mind was full of balls and routs and compliments from numerous young men? How could I have spoken? You were a young girl, only just out, and sister to an Earl. And who was I? A humble ensign, crippled, green and unsure. Of good family, but—back then—few prospects. Your guardian would have been an idiot to allow me to court you!’
‘I never thought about what Adam might say. It is true that he did not know you then. But he does now.’ She shook her head wonderingly. ‘All this time and I had no notion... Well, I take it back.’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘I am not the only stupid one. You were very stupid, too.’
He laughed aloud at this and she watched, enjoying the view of his handsome face, totally relaxed and content. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Elucidate. Tell me of my stupidity.’
‘Well,’ she said primly, ‘you cannot complain now that I did not see you. You should have made me see you. These past weeks, I mean.’
‘How?’ he asked. ‘You are my sister’s best friend and you are my best friend’s sister. Our two families are so close and so mixed up that I believed you saw me as a brother. Indeed, you told me so. That is why I resisted for so long.’
She was a little chastened by this, but determined to be honest. ‘Well, I did give that impression, I suppose. Until I discovered the truth in my own heart. I—’ She blushed a little. ‘The kisses helped.’
‘Sorry? What was that?’ He placed a gentle finger under her chin, tilting her head up so he could see into her eyes. ‘Something about my kisses?’
Her blush deepened, but she forced herself to be frank with him. ‘Your kisses are amazing. I have never experienced anything like them. I—’
Jem had clearly heard enough. His mouth covered hers again and once again they became lost in a sensuous dream.
Some time later—or it might have been just a few minutes—Olivia realised that Jem had suddenly stopped kissing her. Not only that, but he had leapt to his feet and was now standing, with a hand outstretched, offering to help her up. She looked at him in confusion and he groaned.
‘Please do not look at me like that, Olivia, or we shall never manage to wait for the wedding.’
‘Wedding?’ she repeated foolishly, her mind still considering—and rather liking—the physical effect they had on each other.
‘Yes. Wedding,’ he replied tersely. ‘You know, when two people get married.’
She stood, suddenly very interested in the conversation.
‘What wedding?’ Her hands went to her hips as she glared at him.
‘Our wedding, of course!’
She arched her brows. ‘Well, if that is meant to be a proposal, I must inform you that it is not very romantic!’
He grinned, unperturbed by her feigned outrage. ‘Wait a moment.’ He took both her hands and gazed at her, his expression suddenly serious. ‘Olivia.’ Her breath caught in her throat. The entire universe stilled, coalesced around them. Everything else disappeared. Only Jem mattered.
‘You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted, loyal woman I know.’ His voice shook a little. ‘You are also the bravest. These past weeks have confirmed what I always knew. You have an uncommon heart and a capacity for courage that would not shame the greatest of generals. You are in truth my best friend, my favourite companion and my inspiration. I love you. I have loved you since the earliest days of our acquaintance and I shall always love you like this. I have spent years falling ever more deeply in love with you—even when we were apart. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Olivia, will you marry me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her eyes shining. She was incapable of saying more.
He kissed her sweetly, then they simply stood, arms about each other, resting in each other’s embrace. Olivia closed her eyes. She felt it all in that moment. The peace of the countryside, the sun warming her back and the love of her life in her arms.
Happiness, she thought. This is true happiness.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story be sure to check out the other books in The Chadcombe Marriages miniseries by Catherine Tinley
Waltzing with the Earl
The Captain’s Disgraced Lady
Keep reading for an excerpt from Snowbound in Big Springs by Lauri Robinson.
Snowbound in Big Springs
by Lauri Robinson
Chapter One
This was the last place he wanted to be. The last thing he wanted to do. Trudging through knee-deep snow during a blizzard in Eastern Colorado was for men who didn’t want the finer things in life. He did. He wanted good card games, strong whiskey and pretty women.
“I’m not even dressed for this kind of weather!” Welles Carmichael shouted. Not that it did any good. The howling wind swallowed up his words faster than he’d said them. The same wind that was making icicles form on his eyelashes. Yes, his eyelashes. He could feel the frozen crystals. See them every time he blinked.
Blinking didn’t do any good, either. He couldn’t see a foot in front of his face. The only thing he had to tell him he was heading in the right direction was the long wooden pole the conductor had given him to poke into the snow and hit the iron rails to make sure he stayed on the railroad tracks. The ones that led into Big Springs. A place he’d left five years ago, and had only missed a few things about it.
“Not the wind!” he shouted. “Didn’t miss this!” Every part of him was cold. Frozen. Stiff.
He’d missed Gramps. The chance to say hi was the reason he’d been on the westbound train that was stuck in the snow a good two miles behind him. At least he hoped it was two miles behind him because that would mean he only had another mile to go.
Another mile ahead should be the little wooden sign, letting people know they were rolling into the Big Springs depot. The town hadn’t been much five years ago, and Welles wasn’t optimistic enough to believe it had grown into some sort of metropolis.
He might not even be optimistic enough to believe he’d already walked two miles in this blinding snow, but he sure hoped that was the case. The bitter cold had seeped all th
e way into his bones, making it harder and harder to lift his legs high enough to take a step, and his fingers were so burningly cold, holding on to the pole was growing difficult. Any part of his body he could feel was shivering.
The only thing that seemed to be unaffected by the blizzard was his mind, the part that held memories. And dreams. He’d imagined himself stepping off the train at the Big Springs depot in his new three-piece tailored suit—black with a white shirt and sky blue vest—and black boots, completely unscuffed and still shining like brand-new.
The boots were new. Not even a week old, and he’d lost feeling in his toes shortly after leaving the train. He still had on the suit, too, but it was covered with the quilt he’d tied around himself. And his new hat, well, the brim wouldn’t still have the steamed curled edges, because he had a woman’s knitted scarf tied beneath his chin, holding his hat on and keeping his ears warm.
It wasn’t working. His ears probably had more icicles hanging off them than his eyelashes did.
Deep in the midst of feeling sorry for himself, freezing to death as he was, Welles almost missed the sign he’d been hoping to see for miles. He stumbled to a stop, squinting to see through the millions of swirling white flakes of snow. A heated flash of excitement raced through him, but cautious, because he’d learned to be that way. He used the pole to help him take a couple more steps, until he was close enough to wipe away the snow stuck to the flat board with one sock-covered hand.
Big Springs.
He’d made it.
If he had the energy he might have laughed or gave out a triumphant shout. As it was, it took a good amount of his energy to shake the snow off his hand and turn left. If nothing had changed in the past five years, which he highly doubted, all he had to do was cross the road, which he couldn’t see, of course, then he’d be on Gramps’s property.
The livery stable, the big barn he’d helped build nearly ten years ago when he’d been fifteen and thought he knew all there was to know about horses and was overly excited to be working with them, would be first. Then, no more than fifty yards from there would be the house.
The Makings of a Lady Page 24