Mary Blayney (33 page)

8

O
LIVIA CLOSED HER EYES,
but listened as he carefully tested the rungs of the ladder before he put his full weight on them.

Troy came close and nudged her shoulder and she realized that she was crying. Not the big sobbing kind of tears but a steady stream of water down her cheeks. With a wavering breath she raised a hand, wiped away the tears and whispered, “I wish we could go home.”

The horse nodded. Troy was further proof that Mr. Garrett was an honorable man. No animal this smart would be loyal to a villain.

It occurred to Lollie that Troy would be much more comfortable with her saddle and bridle off. Relieved to find something familiar to do, something that would mean she was as much help as burden, Olivia jumped up from her chair and went through the routine, wondering if Garrett had a brush or currycomb to groom her. It did not look like there would be any oats for Troy and the rain would make foraging impossible. How did animals handle hunger?

Lollie undid the girth and pulled at the saddle. It was heavier than she expected, much heavier than the one she had learned on. When she tugged it off, she fell flat on the wood floor, the saddle on top of her.

The ache in her middle paralyzed her. She could not breathe, could not scream. A moment later, Garrett appeared and lifted the saddle off of her, but it did not help. Her lungs were frozen.

“Where are you hurt?”

She shook her head and pressed a hand to her middle. Her heart thundered, her blood rushed in her ears, she tried but there was no breath to catch. It was not her sore throat that kept her from speaking.

“I understand the discomfort. It will pass.”

She felt him loosen the greatcoat around her and she knocked his hand away. “It’s—all—right…” She forced the words out, one at a time, as she exhaled each newly found breath.

He said nothing, but nodded and went back to the fire.

Troy nudged her shoulder and Lollie reached out a hand to pat the horse’s cheek.

Lollie lay back on the floor and stared at the ceiling. The pain eased and she was able to breathe more naturally.

The smell of the place filled her nostrils. That was how she had recognized it. It smelled of dust, emptiness and wood smoke. And now Troy. She closed her eyes and breathed again. The smell of the place was forever ingrained in her mind. Even with her eyes closed,
especially
with her eyes closed, she would recognize this spot even ten years from now.

The sooner they left here the better. Once they were within sight of Pennsford it would be best if he left her on her own to make her way home.

Garrett came back and squatted down near her. “Now do you trust me enough to allow me to give you a hand up?”

M
ICHAEL WOULD NEVER KNOW
what convinced her to accept his help, even in this small thing, but she nodded, still very cautious but less tense.

“Good. Good.” But not perfect.

“All I want to do right now is drink some more brandy so I do not sound like I swallowed sawdust and sit close to the fire and warm myself. You should, too.”

“As soon as I am sure we have enough wood and are secure for the night.”

“You will not go outside. It is too dangerous.”

“I think I preferred the Lollie who did not care what happened to me.”

She drew a deep breath as though breathing was her greatest joy but was not smiling when she spoke again.

“You are worse than my brothers. Much worse.” She fumbled in the pocket of the greatcoat, pulled out the brandy and took a sip.

“Any one of them or your Big Sam can try to beat me to a pulp when we are back wherever you call home.” He brought a chair close to the fire. “No matter what you command, I am going to take Troy out and draw some water from the well for her and for us.”

“It may not be raining but the trees are still dripping.” She sounded vastly disapproving. “The wind is still blowing. You will come back wet and cold.”

“Such womanly concern is so unlike you, Lollie.” He knew how to make her huffy again. “I think it is because you are developing a tenderness for me.” He shot her a wry smile.

“Yes, I suppose it would seem that way to someone like you, but it is no more than worry for my own well-being that makes me care what will happen to you.”

“I will wager a guinea that all your brothers are older than you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You learned the great art of extremes somewhere, Miss Lollie. You are the most confounding mix of sweetness and willfulness. Something well learned when trying to win out over older brothers.”

“You think you know me so well? I will tell you what I know about you. You are too used to being independent and not having to consider what someone else wants. Despite your age, you have never been married, though any number of women have found you irresistible.”

“Despite my age? How old do you think I am?”

“Much older than I am,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“I asked for that.” He shook his head, grinning, which was as close as he would come to admitting defeat in their war of words. “There is some truth to what you say, Lollie, especially the part about the women. What a shame that my good manners will keep me from showing you exactly how irresistible I can be.”

With a word, he led Troy through the door as though the horse made calls on a regular basis and before Lollie could think of a retort scathing enough.

O
LIVIA WENT TO THE FIRE,
added another log before she sat down and realized that Mr. Garrett was a worthy adversary, her brothers, except for Lynford, having given up arguing with her long ago. That was enough to convince her that he was as different from her captors as it was possible to be.

They had been nervous. She realized that now, if only because Mr. Garrett was not.

They had done nothing but tie her up and wait. Mr. Garrett did not wait. He took decisive action. Was that from his war experience?

If Michael Garrett was in charge of an abduction, he would have chosen villains with steadier sensibilities than the men who had almost strangled her and slept on the job, allowing her to escape. He was not in league with her kidnappers, not their mastermind. The reason he frightened her had nothing to do with that.

Her fear grew from the feeling that he was even more dangerous than they were.

It was more than the slight scar on his cheek and the damaged earlobe. No, it was because he insisted he was going to see her home. No matter how difficult it would be to explain, no matter how ruined her reputation, he would make sure she was safe before he abandoned her. He did not seem to understand one critical fact.

He was the kind of man whose mere presence could ruin a woman’s reputation.

He would neither understand nor believe her if she tried to explain that. Michael Garrett was intractable. He would do what he thought must be done. If she refused to cooperate he would force her.

The better part of an hour passed before he came back. She looked out the window twice and the door once. He and Troy were in the shelter of the trees, Troy munching at some grass and Garrett picking up and discarding branches of varying size.

He came back without Troy. “There is a better shed on the other side of the house. There is even some hay that I suspect your captors might have left behind. The weather is clearing and Troy will be happier there.” Pulling off his jacket, he draped it on a branch he stuffed into the stack of logs. His white shirt was not wet, but very fine. She could see the muscles of his back work as he sat down, pulled off his boots and set them in front of the fire.

She pulled the brandy out again and took a sip, her throat suddenly dry. “Do you think they mean to come back? They left a candle, the ropes, wood for the fire, and now you tell me there is hay.”

He took the brandy from her and put the cork in the bottle.

“They will not be back tonight, I promise you that.”

She closed her eyes and pretended to accept his words with a nod.

“Lollie, I will keep you safe. I promised and I can.”

“All right, Mr. Garrett.” She would not ask him how many other women he had been called on to protect, how many others had believed him and if they had survived. “They will not be abroad tonight and we cannot leave here until the morning. But I will be ready, for you see, I have a plan.”

He set the second chair on the other side of the fireplace. Before he sat down he took some of the logs and made a small pyramid so she could rest her feet more comfortably. She wished she had some water to wash. Bare feet were even more embarrassing when they were dirty.

Mr. Garrett leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs with his feet on the woodpile. “So you have come up with a way to explain your abduction. One that will answer all questions. That is impressive, Miss Lollie.”

Oh, she thought with impatience, he had the same tone that Lynford used when she wanted to try something different for dinner. Why did they think it would work to pay her a compliment when it was not sincere? Olivia sat up straight and prepared to fight for what she wanted.

“Yes, I have a plan,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.

Resting his head on the back of the precariously balanced chair, he closed his eyes.

She was not going to discuss it if she did not have his attention. “So, are you sure that Troy is all right outside?”

“She is fine and will call me if there is a problem.” He tolerated the silence for another full minute. “Miss Lollie?”

“Yes?” She kept the chill in her voice and her feet on the floor.

“Are you going to keep your plan a secret? Or do you still think me a villain?”

“That is no longer an issue, Mr. Garrett. What you said made sense. I would never have doubted you if we had stumbled onto any other cottage. It is only that I can see you are very stubborn and will be determined to have your own way.”

He turned his head and opened one eye. “Men are not stubborn. That is the purview of women only. Men are determined.”

“Mulish.”

“Resolute,” he closed his eyes again.

“Pigheaded.”

“Indomitable.”

“Oh, that is a fine word. But here is one more: men can be impossibly
obdurate.
”

“I do not even know what that means, Lollie, and am impressed with your education. I bow to you.” He turned his head, opened his eyes and nodded to her. “You win. You have proved that you are far more stubborn than I.”

Olivia opened her mouth to protest, then realized they had been playing a game and she had lost.

9

N
OW, DO TELL ME
what you have in mind.” Michael plunked the chair back on the floor and held his hands out to the warmth, turning his head to watch her.

“I want you to take me to Pennsford.” He nodded and she realized that his eyes were warm brown, the color of coffee.

“To Pennsford,” he encouraged.

She almost forgot what they were talking about as she debated the color further. Perhaps chocolate.

“I expect there is more to your plan than that, Miss Lollie.”

“Yes, I was just trying to organize my thoughts.” The color of his eyes did not matter anyway. “We will part there and I will make my way home. I will tell them that I went hunting for mushrooms and lost my way. I had to stay in the woods all night. That I found a place to shelter in the hollow of an old tree and followed the sun toward home.”

He did not answer right away. She hoped it was because he was impressed. He turned to face her and leaned forward, his hands folded with his arms resting on his thighs. His eyes were more bronze than brown, she decided, and wondered if he was trying to distract her on purpose.

“Will you walk in the parlor naked, Miss Lollie? If not, how will you explain my greatcoat?”

She leaned closer but kept her hands in her lap. “I will sneak into the castle, hide your greatcoat and dress in my own clothes.”

“Altogether a good plan but I do need my greatcoat.”

“That is a detail easily handled. I will ask Big Sam to bring it to you.”

“He will not be jealous?”

“Of course not.” She straightened again.

“And you think all four of your brothers will find that a reasonable explanation?”

“Only two of them are home and Lynford is the only one who matters.”

“How will you explain your hair?”

Oh, her hair. She had forgotten it and raised a hand to finger her new curls. “I will wear a cap and later tell them that it is the latest style. You thought it was.”

He watched her finger her new curls, and she put her hands together in her lap again. “Is it not an excellent plan?”

“Yes, it seems so.”

He stood up and she knew he was going to be difficult.

“The only problem is that I will not let you out of my sight until I am sure you are safe.”

“It is exactly as I thought.” Olivia slapped her hand on her thigh. “You will insist on your way.”

“What if the men who took you are lying in wait for you to waltz up to the door?”

Now she had it. His eyes were the color of dead leaves.

“You have no answer for me. I didn’t believe that was possible.”

Or maybe the color of dog droppings.

“Your suggestion is an excellent one, Lollie, but here is what we will do. I will take you to a friend’s house. A true friend who has your best interests at heart and is not inclined to gossip. We will use most of your story, but we will tell them that you found this place. You stayed the night and I found you as you were beginning to walk home.”

“Will I go naked or wear your greatcoat?” she asked, annoyed that she sounded petulant instead of patronizing.

“Very clever,” he said, though he did not seem to find it amusing. “You will wear my greatcoat. Your own clothes being too wet and the threat of illness too acute. That is a fact no one would question.”

“Why do we not have my clothes with us?”

“Because you ruined your dress and shift when you took them off since you would not allow me to help you.”

“Oh, that is very good.” She nodded. “I will consider it.”

They settled for sleep after a meager meal, sharing Mr. Garrett’s apples and cheese, saving some for breakfast, and argued over who would sleep where. Olivia insisted that Mr. Garrett drink the last of the brandy and, to her surprise, he did not argue.

“If you are not using the bed, Lollie, then I will.”

“You may and are welcome to every bug that will share it with you.” She wrapped his greatcoat around her and pretended that his travel bag was an adequate pillow as she lay on the floor. She would not think about what insects and small animals might be seeking shelter from the weather. As long as they did not eat any of her she could stand it.

The fire cast the only light, most of it shadowy and not the least bit comforting. She closed her eyes and listened to Mr. Garrett’s even breathing.

Now she would have to explain one more night away from home. It was easily done and Lyn would believe her, but she could hardly send a letter to everyone in the village. At least she had a tomorrow to worry about. More than once today she had thought this was to be her last day on earth.

She prayed, thanking the Lord for this day, as awful as it had been. She hoped He appreciated the gesture. By tomorrow her prayers for patience would far exceed her moment of thanks tonight.

Sleep came, a very light sleep, so light that when she heard animals scratching the wood floor she bolted up and shouted, “Rats!”

“Mice,” Mr. Garrett mumbled. “Come lie on the bed. It is plenty big enough for two.”

“In the same bed with you?”

“Unless another bed has miraculously appeared.”

“You could trade places with me. I am sure you have slept on the floor many times.”

“Which is precisely why I prefer a bed when I have the choice. I told you before that I would share it with you and it would be our secret forever.”

“You are not a gentleman.”

“I have my moments, but right now I am an old soldier who needs rest.” He patted the bed as if she was a puppy who needed encouragement.

“You are so small you take up hardly any space. I assure you your virtue is safe. I am too tired to do anything but sleep.” To prove it, he turned on his side, away from her, and pulled the blanket up around his neck. “Or is it that you do not trust yourself around me?”

“Of course not, you arrogant oaf,” she sputtered, even though that was exactly what she was worried about. She stood up, scooped up the greatcoat and sat on the edge of the mattress.

“
Rats
can climb, you know,” she said to his back.

“
Mice
can too, but they will not bother us.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I put some cheese upstairs, as far away from us as possible.”

His voice was slightly muffled by the blanket. She pulled her feet up onto the bed and leaned a little closer to him.

“It will take them all night to work it out of the place I stuffed it. You, Lollie, are the only thing that is keeping us awake.”

“Are you warm enough?” She smiled into the dark. “You can have this side of the bed if you prefer.” Her toes were cold but she sat still to see if he was going to answer her. He wasn’t going to unless a snore counted as an answer. In this case it was. It told her that what she wanted the most he was not going to give. A sheltering arm. A comforting hug. Something more.

How many times had her governess told her that to be too close to a man could awaken needs in him a woman might not be able to deny?

Olivia had listened and been careful but had never before been in a situation as intimate as this. She had never even considered until this moment that needs could be awakened in the woman as well.

Her maid had taken up where her governess had left off. Kendall insisted that Olivia did not know the meaning of self-control.

That was not true. It was just that when she had a good idea she saw no need to equivocate. She was able to control bad ideas, like not hitting one of her brothers when they irritated her beyond reason. Controlling herself was not a problem.

Of course it had never been tested. Everyone treated her like she was their best friend. It would be nice if just once someone, some man, saw her as—she mulled over the choice of words—if a man saw her as desirable. So desirable that despite incredible self-control he could not resist her.

Her eyelids felt like deadweights and she let them close. She drew a deep breath and dropped off to sleep before she could do more than think, “Good night, Mr. Garrett.”

The feel of burlap smothering her and hands around her neck came immediately. The memories were as real as the experience. Olivia jerked herself awake, opened her eyes. She turned to face the fire, away from the one thing she wanted. Mr. Garrett’s arms around her.

She did not cry out loud, but she could not stop the tears that ran down her cheeks or the deep breaths that sounded like silent sobs.

“Tell me.” His voice penetrated the dark even as she felt him turn on his side so he could see her. “Tell me why you are crying.”

She turned onto her back. “I cannot close my eyes without remembering.”

“Tell me,” he said again. “Tell me what you are remembering.”

She swiped at her eyes and put her hand down beside her body and his.
Please touch me. I cannot stand feeling so abandoned.
He either understood or read her mind because he reached over, smoothed her hair and took her hand in his. It was their only contact, but it was comforting and caring and as intimate as a kiss.

“They forced a burlap sack over my head and threw me on the floor of a carriage. The burlap was rough and poorly woven. It smelled awful, of mildew and rot. The little threads of it clogged my nose and made it hard to breathe.” She drew in a breath and was quiet a moment, determined not to cry. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and waited.

“It made me itch all over. The dark was complete. I could see nothing. Fainting was the only way to escape.”

She turned her head and looked him in the eye. “What a pathetic weakling I am. If I had stayed conscious maybe I could have jumped from the carriage.”

Mr. Garrett raised himself up on one arm with such suddenness that it frightened her. “You are not a weakling, Lollie.” Command replaced comfort. “You are strong and resourceful. You lived through it. You escaped. You are alive.”

What he said was what she wanted, what she needed to hear.
She was alive.
Why was it not comfort enough?

“You have the pistol on the floor beside you. Troy will let us know if anyone is coming, and I am between you and whoever would come through that door. I will kill them before I let them near you.”

With a deep breath the urge to cry passed. That was better.

She was exhausted but not tired, which made no sense at all. She turned so that they were facing each other with about six inches between their bodies. Olivia could feel his heat. “Would you hold me?”