An Innocent Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals Book 1) Page 3

  Miles wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He had never actually believed in love, had imagined himself to have fallen prey to it once before, but it had been a shallow endeavor that had ended in disaster. But since he didn’t wish to dash her hopes against the rocks of reality just yet, he decided it was best to put an end to this conversation. “I shall do my best to ensure you succeed in your endeavors, my lady.” He leaned his head back against the squabs of the carriage seat. “Now, I think I shall try and get some rest. Canterbury is about two days’ ride from here in good weather. It will not look good on us if we are travel weary.”

  Olivia was grateful for the reprieve. She hadn’t intended to share that much of her life with him, but she had found it rather easy to unburden herself to Mr. Stone. He seemed like a genuine sort of fellow, but the less time she spent in his company would be infinitely better for her peace of mind.

  Following his lead, she laid her head back against the seat. There was a lot to think about before she arrived at the estate, but either way, she vowed that she would be victorious, for failure was not an option.

  It seemed as if Olivia had just closed her eyes when she was startled awake once more. Not sure what had roused her from sleep, she feared that they had slid off the road again, but when she blinked to gain her bearings and reality told her that they were still on solid ground, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She jumped when the door was thrust open, bringing in a gust of winter wind with it. She shivered in her cloak and clenched her gloved hands in her lap and noted that it was still dark outside. Would this dreadful night never end?

  “We stopped to change horses.” Mr. Stone stood in the doorway in his snow dusted hat and greatcoat. He had a gloved hand on the frame and his expression appeared grim, so it wasn’t terribly shocking when he announced, “But I’m afraid there is a larger impediment in our path.”

  All of Olivia’s senses went on alert. Something told her she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “What is it?”

  “Our coachman says that the roads are too treacherous to continue on until the worst of the storm has passed.” He paused dramatically.

  “And?” she prompted.

  “It means we will have to spend the night at the inn.”

  Olivia breathed a sigh of relief, but then she wondered if he appeared slightly ill because he was worried about funds. “Rest assured, I shall ensure that you and the coachman are properly settled for the evening as well, Mr. Stone.”

  His expression did not change. “The coachman has been offered lodgings with the local vicar.”

  She nodded.

  “As for us,” He dropped his hand. “There is only one room available. We would have to share, or else draw straws to see who would remain in the carriage.”

  She started to laugh. “If that was your attempt at a joke, it’s not a very humorous one—”

  He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Since I wouldn’t allow you to freeze to death, and with the same assumption you should do the same for me, I accepted the rooms on behalf of Mr. and Mrs. Stone.”

  Olivia’s heart stilled, and then began to hammer beneath her breast. “Oh. I see.”

  He opened the door of the hackney wider so that she could step down to the ground.

  As she stood beside him, he said, “I’ll ensure that your trunk is brought up straightaway.”

  She nodded stiffly. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

  As Olivia trudged through the snow and into the inn, she was anxious about the night ahead. Not only would she be spending it alone with a man, but he was a stranger. She didn’t know anything about him. He seemed to be honorable, but what if he attempted to take liberties with her? It wasn’t as if she could appeal to anyone for help. The single person who knew that they weren’t a married couple was the coachman and if he was staying with the vicar somewhere else in the village, it wasn’t as though his assistance would be readily available.

  Tears threatened, for she had never felt more alone in her life. If this is what true independence was like, she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.

  Chapter Three

  Miles didn’t know why he had been thrown into such a precarious situation with this intriguing woman, but he was quite sure he didn’t deserve such torment. Not only was it distressing enough to suddenly rediscover his attraction for the opposite sex, but to feel this way when he was alone with an innocent woman who was pretending to be his wife while they were forced to share a bed?

  That was getting dangerously close to the seventh circle of hell.

  Thus, he reminded himself that he was a war hero, celebrated for his efforts during Waterloo, was close friends with the Duke of Wellington, and yet, he couldn’t control his base urges? Then again, he would be waking up on Christmas morning next to a beautiful woman and not be able to do a damned thing about it.

  Reminding his cock who was in charge, Miles removed Lady Olivia’s trunk from the top of the hackney and, after the coachman rejoined him, they headed for the stables. As the coachman and the stable lad took care of the mares, Miles unhitched his mount that had been tied to the back and led him over to a section of hay. As the gelding began to eat greedily, he patted the animal on the neck with fondness. “This is quite a mess, isn’t it, Gladiator?” he rasped with a murmur. “Here I promised you a nice place to sleep for the night and here we are.” He glanced around the modest dwelling. “But I think you’ll do fine. Let’s just hope that we can get to Marlington Hall tomorrow.”

  He turned to gather Lady Olivia’s trunk once more and glanced toward the inn. A feminine silhouette passed in front of one of the second story windows and his cock tightened, knowing it was her.

  Clenching his jaw, Miles shoved aside his body’s sudden demands and hoisted the trunk over his shoulder, choosing to carry it upstairs himself. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t capable, and since he was under the pretense of being Mr. Stone, the estate manager, he knew he had to get used to doing things for himself. Who knew how long this charade would continue once they reached Marlington Hall?

  When he opened the door to the rented set of rooms, he saw a cheery fire burning in the grate. A tray of food was sitting on a modest table and a metal hip bath was steaming in the corner. He had to admit that the innkeeper had been quite generous, and she didn’t even know he was a duke. A lamp was lit beside the bed, but he tried not to allow his attention to linger there for long.

  There was a movement by the window, and Lady Olivia allowed the covering to fall back into place as she turned to face him. She had yet to remove her clock and bonnet, was hugging herself and looking as lost as anyone could possibly appear. He was grateful that he wasn’t the only one feeling out of sorts. But then, her reasons were uncertainty, rather than a stirring of long buried desire.

  “Have you eaten yet?” He asked as he removed his greatcoat and laid it over a nearby chair, although he recalled that his hat was still sitting on the carriage seat.

  “I… wasn’t that hungry.”

  He frowned at that. “You should try to eat something. Tomorrow could be another long day.”

  She must have considered the truth to that statement, for she slowly walked forward. She had a moment’s hesitation before she sat down.

  Miles walked over and lifted the lid on the food to reveal bread rolls and porridge, along with a bottle of wine. He tried to keep his distaste at bay. He used to love porridge, but it was difficult to stomach after the war when the only thing he’d been able to eat for months was cold gruel. “It may not be the opportune Christmas Eve meal, but it looks wonderful to me.”

  He glanced up at his companion to see her staring at him. When their gazes met, she immediately allowed hers to fall. He poured them both a glass of wine and then handed one to her. “Here. This should help calm your nerves a bit.”

  Her gaze shot back to his, but she accepted the offering with a slightly, unsteady hand. “Thank you,” she murmured, and then took a sip of her drink. br />
  Miles knew it would relax her, hopefully enough that she could get something into her stomach.

  He settled himself across from her and began to fill his plate. He tore off a piece of the roll and popped it into his mouth. While it wasn’t as warm or tasty as the loaves he consumed at Gravesend Manor, it kept his hunger at bay, so he was grateful for that.

  When he swallowed, he was careful to follow it with some wine. He couldn’t take anything as simple as eating for granted after the injuries he’d sustained after the war.

  It wasn’t until he was reaching for his second roll that Lady Olivia set down her wineglass and decided to do the same. Their hands brushed and she quickly withdrew hers and set it in her lap. “I’m… sorry.”

  Miles tilted his head to the side, wondering why a woman like Lady Olivia was so reticent. Earlier, in the carriage, they had shared a simple conversation, but at least she was conversing with him. Granted, she was an innocent and likely unsettled about the present situation, but he wondered if something else wasn’t amiss. Had it been her recent fall through the ice that made her so unsure of herself, or had she always been this withdrawn?

  He grabbed a roll and held it out to her with a slight smile.

  She silently reached out and accepted the offering, but he noticed that she didn’t immediately start eating, but rather held it in her hand and stared at it.

  He couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Is something troubling you, my lady?”

  She continued to toy with the bread, and then set it on her plate with a sigh. “I keep wondering if I made a mistake by leaving my sisters so… abruptly, and on Christmas Eve. A part of me feels as though I acted rashly, that I should have stayed and tried to talk to them again, but then I know it would have been as it always has. They would have consoled me and told me it would be better if I only gave London a chance.” She put her head in her hands. “I was so determined to take this course of action so that they would finally understand that I was earnest, that I never wanted to go to the city, but what if—”

  “What if?” he prompted.

  She lifted her gaze to his, tears swirling in their green depths. “What if they are so furious that they will never forgive me?”

  Miles snorted. “I don’t think you will have to worry about that. I may not know your sisters that well, but I can see that they care about you deeply. If anything, they will come looking for you and beg you to return.”

  Her lids fluttered as she looked back at her plate. “I know I must seem terribly ungrateful and utterly selfish. I certainly never desired to be at odds with my sisters, but I just knew I wouldn’t be happy in London.”

  Although Miles told himself not to be affected, she looked so forlorn that he couldn’t help his heart from being pricked. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Lady Olivia,” he rasped, hating the sound of his distorted voice now more than ever. It made him sound like some sort of monster, when that was the last thing he wanted to appear in her eyes. “You are never at fault for chasing your own joy. Your sisters have done what they wanted by going to London. You have just chosen not to join them.” He shrugged. “If independence was their plan, then you, my lady, have succeeded.”

  Olivia stilled. She had thought of her plan in the exact same way when she’d left that letter on the foyer table and rushed out the door as if she would be discovered at any moment. When she’d shut the front door on her departure, her heart had been pounding, believing that she was a terrible person for leaving, but at the same time, knowing nothing would have stopped her. Her mind was set.

  Mr. Stone had just put into words what she’d tried to convince herself all this time and it made her feel decidedly better. Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she offered him a tentative smile.

  She didn’t know if it was the wine beginning to affect her head, but she was starting to become quite content just looking upon his handsome face. That was, until those dark eyes met hers and then an odd, swirling sensation began in the pit of her stomach and her breathing turned uneven, until she was forced to glance away.

  He rose to his feet and her gaze snapped back to his. “I’ll go downstairs to the tap room for a drink so you can bathe. The heat will go a long way in restoring your lagging spirits.” He offered a polite bow. “I will return shortly.”

  Olivia expelled a slow breath when he was gone. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with him in the same room, it was that she was… uncomfortable with him. Of course, it made no sense whatsoever, but instead of trying to understand her own reasoning, she started to disrobe. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to pack front lacing stays and gowns that were relatively easy to maneuver on her own. She hadn’t known how long she might be without a ladies’ maid when she’d left London, so she wanted to ensure she could do things on her own. Considering her present situation, she was even more thankful that she’d had the foresight to do so.

  She dug in her trunk which Mr. Stone had graciously brought up and placed at the end of the bed and withdrew her nightdress. She stared at it for a moment, knowing that it covered her from head to toe, and then she decided that she would wear her chemise underneath it as well to ensure that she was properly covered. One couldn’t be too careful when it came to sleeping next to a strange man.

  A handsome stranger who claimed to be an estate manager, but unknown to her, nevertheless.

  She sighed in bliss as she sank down into the warm water. It immediately turned her skin pink, but she reveled in the sting. It went far to chase away the chill that tried to consume her.

  She reached for the soap that had been placed nearby next to the linens and began to scrub until her skin glowed with even more of a reddish hue. She kept her hair pinned to keep it dry. While the fire would eventually dry it, she didn’t want to linger overlong when Mr. Stone could return at any time. She would like to be in bed under the pretense of sleep when that occurred.

  After remaining in the bath as long as she dared, Olivia quickly dried off with one of the linens and then placed it over the back of the tub to dry. She then donned her chemise and nightdress and walked back over to her trunk on bare feet, to retrieve her hairbrush. Once she had removed the pins and set them on her trunk, she ran the bristles through her waist-length hair until it crackled and then proceeded to split the strands and turn them into one neat plait.

  Grateful that her ‘husband’ had yet to return, she got into bed and rolled on her side, then scooted as far from the opposite side as she could possibly manage without falling off the mattress entirely.

  She closed her eyes and attempted to regulate her breathing with slow, deep inhales, but it became apparent that sleep would not be claiming her anytime soon. She had slept a bit on the journey, which she realized now had been a mistake. She had never required much sleep. That was a habit reserved for Calliope.

  Her red-haired sibling had always said that to look your best you had to have plenty of beauty rest. She supposed it was true, since Calliope had always garnered a lot of attention from the village boys and was already creating quite a stir in London.

  But since she didn’t want to be awake when Mr. Stone returned, she kept her eyes firmly shut and prayed that she would soon drift into slumber.

  Miles had been downstairs for three hours and eleven minutes.

  Not that he had been counting.

  After imbibing a pint of ale and exchanging some easy conversation with a few of the locals, he had finally climbed the stairs, confident that Lady Olivia would be fast asleep by now.

  He held his breath as he slowly opened the door and walked into the room, shutting it behind him with a gentle click. He noted that the fire had died down to a light simmering glow and that there was a slight chill to the air because of it. He shivered slightly but removed his greatcoat and hung it on a peg near the door. Then, he went over and stoked the fire. He tried to think of something else he could do, but he knew he was just prolonging the inevitable.

  The bed.

&nbs
p; Closing his eyes, he reminded himself that he was a gentleman, and one who didn’t prey on the innocent. Lady Olivia was a young woman who didn’t need the disappointments that life could offer her, at least, not yet. It was best if she still imagined that the sky could carry rainbows after a storm. It was going to be difficult enough when she learned who he really was.

  Miles removed his jacket, cravat, waistcoat, and boots, but he kept his shirt and trousers on. He wasn’t about to tempt fate and sleep in his small clothes as he normally did. And most especially not naked.

  He moved to the side of the bed and told himself not to look on her side, but it was a useless argument. His eyes shifted that direction and then came to a skidding halt.

  His pulse started to thunder in his veins, his heart hammering in his chest, for while her back was firmly placed toward him, the mere sight of her golden hair laying on the coverlet in a simple braid made his cock harden.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t move. Every speech he’d told himself until that point abruptly vanished, because all he could see was that glorious, pale hair spread out on the bed as he lost himself between her trembling thighs.

  A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead, because now that the erotic vision was in his mind, it was difficult to dislodge it from taking root. He imagined lifting the hem of her virginal night dress, inch by inch, until her glorious body was revealed to his hungry gaze. Then he would lavish her perfect breasts with his tongue, before traveling farther down and giving her womanhood the same attention until she was writhing beneath him and crying out his name.

  He clenched his fists at his sides and released a long, slow breath as he tried to control his raging body. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been without female companionship over the years after his return from the war. On the contrary, once he had healed, he had no trouble finding plenty of willing women to bed a heroic duke. But he ensured that any exploits were few and far between. Even if he wasn’t content on his own and had been searching for a wife, no one had kept his interest longer than the few moments of satisfaction that they gained.