by Wendy Vella
Will had cleared his throat and the smile had fallen, to be replaced by the cold look of the previous evening.
“I trust you slept well?”
“Very well, thank you.”
“This is your nephew, Billy,” Joseph then said.
Will had never been overly fond of children, possibly because he had never met any; However, Billy was his blood, and having lived without family he knew how important it was for his nephew to know he was there for him if one day he should need him.
Moving closer, he had crouched and held out his hand. The boy had taken one finger and squeezed it hard, offering him a wide smile that showed off two small, white teeth. Rising, he had kissed a soft cheek and then seated himself at the table. The brothers had not spoken again; however, Billy’s noise had been enough to make the meal bearable.
Pulling his overcoat tighter, Will skirted an icy puddle and wished he’d taken Penny up on the offer of a pair of Joseph’s gloves. Living in a cold climate once again was going to take some getting used to. Walking up the path cut in the side of the hill, Will made his way to the cemetery that overlooked the village of Twoaks. His parents were buried here and he had visited them rarely before he left; however, upon waking this morning he’d known he needed to come.
Passing through the small gate, Will entered the cemetery and looked around him. Nothing appeared to have changed overly much; the older graves were at the rear and in need of a good weeding, while the newer were closer to the front.
“I wish you were here, Mama.”
Looking over the headstones to where that voice had come from, he saw a lady sitting beside a grave. Her head was uncovered and lowered. Red-gold hair hung in a long, thick, plaited rope down her spine. Will felt his heart skip a beat as he stared at the back of Olivia Langley’s head. She was the only woman he knew that had hair the color of sunset. Her mother must have passed away sometime in the last five years. Will felt a twinge of sadness for the vivacious lady who had always had a smile for him whenever they met.
“I promised you I would look after them. Do you remember, Papa? When you died, I came up here and said I would do whatever it takes to give them a safe and happy future.”
He should not intrude on her grief; he should go, turn around and walk away before she saw him, but he couldn’t get his legs to move.
“But I didn’t think it was going to be so hard.”
Christ, she was crying, soft sobs that tore at his insides because they were the sound of someone whose heart was broken. His feet carried him forward and soon he stood behind her.
She was on her knees. One of her bare hands clutched a headstone and her head was bowed in defeat. Will read the two stones and realized that both Lord and Lady Langley had died since his departure.
Will had thought about Olivia a lot since he had left, about the days they had spent walking over the hills of Twoaks talking of everything and anything. With her, he had always managed to drop the façade he had erected to shut everyone out. With her, he had been a man who had nothing to prove, a man happy with the company he was keeping. Looking at her ring-less fingers, he had the answer to one of the questions that had plagued him, and knew he had no right to feel pleased about her unmarried state.
“Olivia, don’t be alarmed. It is I, William Ryder.”
His words had been spoken softly, yet Will watched her fingers briefly clench around the headstone, the knuckles turning white before releasing it.
“Please accept my sincere condolences for the loss of your parents. They were lovely people.”
Still she didn’t look at him, but sat back on her heels, her hands now in her lap, head lowered.
“I lost my parents, as you know, many years ago, yet still I miss them. It is almost as if the world is in some way depleted with their passing. Of course, I had you to thank for helping me through their deaths, Olivia. You walked endless miles over these hills listening to me talk as I tried to come to terms with the grief.”
She was listening to him. He could tell because her cries had stopped. There was just the occasional hitch in her breathing.
“To say it eases would lessen what they meant to us, Olivia, yet given time we learn to live with their death.”
She seemed so small, huddled in front of him, worn black cloak hanging behind her. Eyeing the patches around the hem, he wondered just how hard Olivia Langley was finding things. The sad little figure before him was a complete contrast to the delectable young lady who had once brought him to his knees with just a look.
“Come, take my hand, Olivia, and we shall sit on the seat above the cemetery and look down at the village of Two Oakes while we become reacquainted.”
He heard her sniff.
“I-it seems you have been gone too long, my lord, if you now pronounce the village’s name like an outsider.” Her voice was thick with tears.
“I had just come to that realization, Olivia, hence my return home. Now come, you need to get up off this cold ground,” Will added, putting his hand under her elbow. She gave a sharp hiss of breath.
“Are you hurt, Olivia?”
“No, my lord, you just startled me.”
Placing his hands on her waist, Will simply lifted her to her feet when she made no move to stand. She was light as a feather and he could tell she had lost some of the soft curves that had once tormented him, and he wondered again how hard Olivia Langley was finding life.
“Thank you,” she said, turning to face him and then dropping into a curtsey.
Five years ago, Olivia had been seventeen and a young lady who was beginning to understand the hold she had over men, most especially him. She had made him feel like one minute he was standing on his head and the other on his feet. But more importantly, she had become the one person in his life who had understood to him.
“Hello,” Will said, looking into her sad, red-rimmed eyes. She was still beautiful; in fact to Will she seemed more so. She had lost the roundness in her face and every bone was now defined, from the line of her cheeks to the curve of her jaw. Her face was pale and dark smudges under her cinnamon eyes told him she was not sleeping well. She appeared fragile and vulnerable, both words he would previously never have used when describing the luscious Livvy Langley
“Good day, Lord Ryder.” She looked at him, her eyes expressionless. “How long have you been back from your travels?” Her voice was distant, as if they were strangers.
“I arrived home last night.”
“Your family must be pleased to see you.”
“Some of my family are pleased, Olivia.”
“Surely your brother’s reaction does not surprise you, my lord. You walked away without a word.”
Will smiled but she did not respond. “How did you know it was Joseph?”
“Thea talked of you constantly and always with longing, Lord Ryder, I doubt she would have been anything but happy to see you.”
The wind caught at her hair, pulling a lock free, and she brushed it aside impatiently.
“And you, Olivia? I walked away from you without a word. Do you forgive me?”
“It matters not how I feel, my lord,” she said, dropping her eyes, which told him it did matter a great deal.
“Yes, it does.”
She didn’t know what to say to that so she fell silent, another surprise. The Olivia he had known had no idea how to be quiet.
“I know my apology is late in coming, Olivia, yet I will tender it all the same.”
She glared at him then. “I have no wish to hear your apologies, Lord Ryder. They are of no consequence to me.”
Realizing that now was not the time to pursue this topic any further, he instead took her arm. “Will you walk with me to my parents’ graves and then sit with me on the seat overlooking the village? I need to catch up on the gossip and the Langleys, if my memory serves me well, always knew what was going on in Twoaks.” She didn’t respond instantly, although her fingers curled into fists at her side. Will knew she was going to refuse hi
m, so he steered her along the row of headstones and down the next before she had a chance.
“Release me please, my lord. I need to return to my home.”
Ignoring her, Will continued on to where his parents were buried in a special, raised area to the rear of the cemetery beside their ancestors. He walked to the headstones with Olivia and stood silently, reading the words.
“I miss them still, even more so now I have returned,” he said quietly.
“I always make sure to visit them when I come here.”
“Do you?” he queried, wondering why.
She shot him a defensive look.
“I’m sorry if you do not feel I have any rights to visit with them, my lord, but I knew them well, especially after they rescued me when I was six years old and had gotten lost in the woods”
“I am not censuring you, Olivia.” Will looked down at her; she was studying the headstones, thus avoiding his eyes. “Dare I ask what a six-year-old was doing alone the woods?”
“It matters not, my lord. I was merely explaining why I visited them.”
She was bristling like a hedgehog. They had once been friends, very close friends, but now he realized she thought of him as anything but.
“Surely you cannot leave me hanging like that, Olivia. To hear something new about a parent, who has been long passed, is a treasure no one could resist.”
She chewed her lip for several seconds while waging some kind of war within herself and then finally, with a small huff of breath, she spoke.
“My father had told me that there was a family of tiny people living in the woods at the bottom of Willow Hall. They only came out when they were sure no one would see them because they were fearful that their secret would be discovered.”
“You mean they had other secrets besides the fact that they only reached your knees and lived in the woods?” Will teased.
“Six-year-olds are literal creatures, my lord. My interest was purely in the secret, not the viability of the story. And, of course, I also once believed everything my father told me.”
Will heard the pain in her words. She obviously still felt her father’s loss keenly. Releasing her, he touched the headstones of his parents and whispered the words, “I’m home now, rest easy,” before he once again took Olivia’s arm and led her out of the cemetery.
“I should return to my sisters, my lord.”
“Please finish your story, Olivia,” he said as they climbed the rest of the path to the seat. Lowering her onto the wooden bench, he took the place beside her. She shuffled aside, putting several inches between them, and then perched on the edge. The old Livvy would have never moved away from him; in fact she would have settled her skirts, making sure to let her fingers brush his thigh.
“It does not look as if much has changed down there.” Will looked at the village that lay below them. Small and bustling, it was a hive of activity as carts, carriages and people scurried about. From this distance they resembled a colony of ants.
“Change is inevitable, my lord,” she said in a flat voice.
“Tell me the rest of the story, Olivia.”
“I slipped out of the house when no one was looking and ran to the woods. I walked and walked, lifting leaves and branches, kicking aside dirt but I could not find the little people. When I grew tired, I looked around and realized I was hopelessly lost and could not find the path home.”
Will remembered her as a six-year-old skipping down the aisle in church; she had been beautiful even then.
“I could always wail louder than anyone else,” she added with a small tired sigh that tugged at his chest.
“Your parents were out riding and overheard me. Your father picked me up and asked why I was out there alone and I told him that I was trying to find the little people who make the best sweets out of lemon and honey.”
Will laughed. “So that was the secret.”
“Yes, and to their credit your father and mother never laughed at me. In fact, your father said that he was sorry to be the bearer of bad news but he had heard that the lemon and honey people had moved on to Inverness in Scotland.”
Will couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed like this. If only his servants could see him now; all of them believed him a serious, unsmiling man.
“Your father lifted me up into your mother’s arms and then they took me home. They sang songs to me all the way and then stayed to take tea with my parents. I worshipped them from that day onwards. I was devastated when they passed.”
His laughter slowed and this time it was he who sighed.
“They were the very best of parents, Olivia. Thank you for sharing your story with me,” he said, looking at her. “However, I find it hard to believe I am only just hearing this story now, when we spent many hours together talking of anything and everything in the past.”
“I have no further time to sit and converse with you, Lord Ryder.” She quickly regained her feet thereby, in her mind, ending the conversation. “I must leave you now as my sisters will start to worry if I am overlong.”
“You once called me Will, Olivia,” he said, standing.
Ignoring his words she dropped into a quick curtsey and then winced upon rising.
“What is wrong with you? That is the second hiss of pain since I arrived.”
“I am pleased that you are home safe, my lord,” she said, again ignoring his question. “I am sure we will see nothing further of each other so I bid you good health and good day.”
Frowning, Will watched her leave. Why would he not see her again? Was she not going to London for the season and would she not be attending any functions in the village or surrounding countryside over the Christmas period?
“I’ll walk you home,” he said, striding after her.
“There is no need, Lord Ryder; I am quite capable of making my way home and have been doing so for many years. Please stay and enjoy the view as I prefer my own company.”
Well, she couldn’t have made that any clearer, Will thought. She did not want to spend any time with him.
“You’re hurting and upset. What sort of gentleman would allow a woman in that state to walk home alone? Not to mention that the lemon and honey people could attack at any moment.”
She stopped at the gate and looked up at him. It wasn’t a glare, as such, but pretty close to his mind. Excellent. She still had some fighting spirit. Keeping his expression pleasant, he reached around her and pushed the gate open and then motioned for her go through.
***
Livvy had realized one thing when she looked up into Will’s eyes for the first time in five years; he was still the most handsome man she had ever met. Her heart thudded in her chest, her palms grew damp and her stomach was doing silly little flutters. He’d always had that effect on her, only now she resented him for it.
He still unsettled her and at that moment in time she wanted to slap him, hard. She hated that he had the freedom only a man could have and that he was supported by the comfort and wealth of his family, but more importantly, she was angry because once she had loved him and he had walked away from her without a backward glance. She could not lay the blame for what happened to her family at his door, yet when she had needed him most he had not been there for her and she would never forgive him for that, no matter how unreasonable she was being.
Looking away from the intensity of his gray gaze, Livvy realized that while he had been handsome before, in a boyish way, he was even more so now. His once long, black curls were cropped short, and although his face did not have the classic elegance of some, it was commanding, with high cheekbones and a long angular jaw that seemed more prominent than she remembered. His skin was tanned and he had lost the look of the idle, pampered nobleman. Even his body was now solid and muscled, his broad shoulders defined by the lines of the jacket. There was an aura of strength about him that had not been there before.
“You said we would not see each other again, Olivia, yet surely you will attend the Twoaks Derby and th
e social events over the next few weeks? And what of the London season? It is due to start in a few months. Are you not in attendance this year?”
His long strides easily kept up with her as she walked down the hill and into the woods below. Be nice, Livvy. Speak calmly and this will be over shortly. You had to see him some time, now is as good as any. Once this meeting is over then she need never see him again, or at the very least she could take steps to avoid him.
“Yes, of course,” Livvy muttered, not wanting to discuss the fact she had never had a season in London.
“And are you backing Jaccob Bell in the Derby again this year, Olivia?” The breath left her body as he lifted her easily over a fallen stump and replaced her gently back on the ground on the other side.
“Please don’t touch me.” Lord, she was breathless from that brief contact. She needed to get away from this man. He was far too disturbing.
“Once, you liked me touching you.”
“Once, I was foolish and gullible. I am far from that now!” Livvy snapped and instantly wished she hadn’t, because she had no intention of alerting him to her feelings towards him. “I will, of course, back Jaccob, my lord; however, I also ride in the Derby now,” she added, quickly changing the subject.
Livvy didn’t instantly realize that he had stopped until she took a couple more steps and noted his disturbing presence was no longer at her side. Turning, she searched for him. Surrounded by tall trees and shadows, he looked like a god of the forest who could call together his minions and drag her into his dark world. Not that he would, she reminded herself, because he cared nothing for her.
“Is there a problem, my lord?”
“Surely it is too dangerous for a woman to ride in such a race?”
“Women have competed in the Derby before, and I am a good rider and have managed to ride the previous two years without incident. In fact, even with my limited intelligence, I manage to ride astride.”
His smile started in his twinkling gray eyes and finished on his lips which he opened, revealing large white teeth. It made her stomach flutter again but she kept her expression passive.