Scandalous Summer Nights (20 page)

“After, I think.”

She nodded emphatically as if to say,
That’s what I thought
.

Olivia inhaled deeply.
I’ve realized my place is with you
. It wasn’t quite a declaration of love, but it was close. These were the words she’d longed to hear, and yet the timing was all wrong. She’d loved him for ten long, exasperating years. He could have chosen any time during that decade to return her affections. Year seven would have been perfectly acceptable. Or year nine. But it was only
after
they’d been caught in bed together, forced into an engagement, and made love to each other that his feelings had caught up with hers.

Now, when she’d realized that she didn’t want to be the reason he stayed.

James’s sense of honor was making him do this. If he knew how much she’d miss him or how worried she’d be for his safety, he’d give up his spot on the expedition. He’d stoically set aside his own ambitions and remain at her side—for her sake. He’d say that he didn’t care about the
expedition, that she had saved him from two years of bad food and primitive living conditions.

So, if she truly wanted him to go to Egypt, she had to convince him that she was indifferent, when she was anything but.

She focused on the task at hand and tried not to look directly at James’s bare chest, because that had the same effect on her decision-making abilities as gulping down three glasses of wine. She also endeavored to ignore the fact that she was naked. The way James’s sultry gaze roved over her arms and legs suggested that he was having difficulty ignoring her lack of clothing as well. She felt a flush creep up her neck. As he stroked the back of her hand, her whole arm tingled.

“I thought this was what you wanted.”

She shrugged. “I think I’ve grown up in the last couple of weeks. I’ve learned that I can’t tie up all my hopes and dreams in one person. I need to rely on myself and be comfortable in my own skin.”

A small, wicked smile lit his face. “I
love
the way you look in your own skin.”

Heavens. Was he listening to her at all?

“I won’t pretend I don’t care for you,” she said, “because I do. I just think that, given the way we became engaged, it might actually be a good thing for us to spend some time apart. You could go on your expedition and explore to your heart’s content. I could spend some time with my family and get to know yours. We’ll both have time to adjust to the idea of being married. After all, we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together.”

“You need time to adjust?”

“Naturally. I’ve never had a husband before.”

“I’ve never had a wife before either. But I think we’ll be good together.”

A lump the size of one of James’s blasted stones settled in her throat, and her eyes began to burn.
This is the time to be strong, Olivia. Strong and convincing
. She pulled her hand away. “I would have never guessed you were so sentimental, James. You know, one of the things I’ve always admired about you is your analytical, logical nature.”

“I thought it infuriated you.”

“Perhaps it frustrated me, occasionally, but I respect the way you make decisions so thoughtfully, without giving in to emotions or impulse.”

“But you’re one of the most impulsive people I know.”

“Precisely! That’s why I require a husband who is steady, one who stays the course.”

“What are you trying to say, Olivia?”

“That you’ve been planning this trip to Egypt for months—nay, years—and you shouldn’t let an impromptu wedding affect those plans. Go on your expedition. Explore like you’ve always wanted.”

He stared at her as though he couldn’t believe his ears. “There could be a babe.”

Dear Lord, she’d forgotten about that. She did some quick calculations. “I don’t think so.” She kept her voice light. “But I’ll know for certain within the week.”

“I see.” He raked his fingers through his hair and clasped his hands behind his neck. Olivia had to look away because the sight of his flexed arms was making her light-headed. “If you were with child,” he said, “I’d never leave you.”

Sweet. Except she supposed that implied the opposite:
that if she wasn’t pregnant, he
would
leave. “All I’m suggesting is that while we may not have had a choice in getting engaged, we do when it comes to the rest of our lives.”

“You are correct. It
is
up to us.” His green eyes simmered as he pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I know what I’d like to do right this minute.”

She swallowed. He might not love her with the same ferocity that she loved him, but there was no denying the heat between them. The hungry, yet surprisingly tender, look on his face melted her like so much chocolate. “What might that be?”

Slowly, he peeled her dress away from her body. As his gaze roved over her, he drew in a breath. “I confess I want to do all sorts of wicked things with you. But first, I thought you might like another dip in the river to cool off, followed by lunch. What do you say?”

His smile made her whole body thrum, and when his eyes strayed to her breasts and lower, she felt like a ripe peach that he was about to pluck from a tree. “That sounds… heavenly.”

He scooped her up easily and carried her back into the river, where the water tickled first her toes, and then her bottom, and then her breasts. She straddled him and traced the line of his jaw, reveling in the rough feel of his stubble beneath her fingertip. He kissed her sweetly and ran his big hands over her back as the cool, gentle current soothed the slight soreness between her legs. An insistent pulsing began there, and she pulled him closer, clawing at his back and tugging on his hair.

“Jesus, Olivia.” He bent his head, drew her nipple into his mouth, and suckled her till she was writhing from
the sheer pleasure of it. And when he slipped his hand between them and touched her, she was lost.

“I want you,” she breathed. “Please.” She rubbed herself against him, pleased to find him aroused, for in spite of her bravado, she really had very little idea of how these things worked. She did know, however, that his trousers presented an impediment and set about rectifying that small matter. She tugged on the front of them until something gave, and James laughed into her mouth—a sound so delicious she wanted to eat him up.

“I think you just fed one of my buttons to the fishes.”

“Shhh. I don’t want to think about the fishes right now. Just help me.”

His eyelids were heavy and his smile knee-melting as he obliged her, unbuttoning the placket at the front of his trousers until she could finally hold his shaft, smooth and oh so rigid against his belly.

“Can we do it like this?”

He muttered something that might have been a curse, a prayer of thanks, or both. “We can. Are you sure you’re ready, so soon after we…?”

Dear God, she was ready. She may not be able to tell him that she still loved him desperately or that she hated the thought of spending the first two years of her marriage without him beside her. But she could love him with her body. She could create a memory that they’d both tuck away and save for the nights when a thousand miles separated them. “I’m ready.”

His hand on her hip, he guided her lower, until he was poised to enter her. “We’ll take it slowly this time.”

She may have pouted in response, because he chuckled and said, “Trust me.”

She should have known she could trust him.

He filled her, then let her take the lead, setting the pace and rhythm. The sun shone on their heads and the water kissed their skin as she moved on top of him, pushing up, then taking him deeper, over and over until her legs were locked around him and she was whimpering for the same kind of release she’d had before.

“Easy, love.” Squeezing her bottom in both hands, he thrust fast and hard, increasing the friction between them until the sweet pulsing was shooting through her limbs and thundering in her ears. Being with James was nothing like she’d imagined. Because never in her life could she have imagined something so raw and powerful and wonderful. She arched her back and cried out as she surrendered to the rush that overcame her, pleasure pounding through her bones before slowly fading into something quiet and healing.

His handsome face creased with concentration, James touched his forehead to hers. Breathlessly, he said, “Hold on.”

Olivia rallied what little strength she had left, and when he began to move inside her again, he met her thrust for thrust. She drew his lower lip into her mouth and raked her fingers over his chest and down his abdomen. He gasped, and every muscle in his body tensed as he called out her name—and came inside her, again.

A
n hour later, James and Olivia dozed, stark naked, beneath the shade of a large oak. He had moved the blanket there, wrung out their clothes, and left them in the sun to dry. They’d sipped wine from tin cups and devoured the bread and cheese they’d brought, along with a couple of juicy apples.

Sated and full, they’d lain on their backs and stared at the green canopy above them. James laced his fingers through hers, kissed the back of her hand, and pressed it to his chest, then drifted off to sleep.

Olivia must have done the same.

When she awoke, he was dressed and packing his tools in his bag. Her hair was matted to the side of her face and she feared she’d drooled a little on the quilt. Suddenly self-conscious, she sat up and drew her knees to her chest.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, without the slightest hint of irony. How she loved him for that.

“It’s the afternoon. And I’m sure I look like a hoyden.”

“An adorable hoyden.” He picked up her chemise, snapped it in the air to rid it of grass and pollen, and tossed it to her.

She quickly slid it over her head, sighing as the sun-soaked linen warmed her skin. While James retrieved the rest of her clothes, she raked her fingers through her tangled curls. It would be a miracle if she could coax them into any semblance of a respectable knot, but it was difficult to care. Especially when the afternoon had been so lovely and so… enlightening.

Her clothes felt tight and confining after a few hours of uninhibited bliss, but she supposed they were necessary before she and James rode back into Haven Bridge. After she’d dressed and repaired her hair the best she could, she slipped her crutches under her arms and followed James toward the horses.

“Wait.” He halted midstride, his forehead furrowed. “I think I’ll collect a sample of soil from the riverbank, something I can take back to Humphrey, along with your drawing. Would you excuse me just a moment?”

“I’ll come with you.”

He helped her walk the short distance to the river, and Olivia watched from the embankment while James hopped lightly to the sand. He slung his bag off his shoulder, withdrew a small drawstring pouch, and crouched beside the stones he’d unearthed earlier. He’d just scooped a handful of soil into the pouch and was tying the string when something in the bank behind him glinted in the sun. She blinked to be sure she wasn’t seeing things. Sure enough, there amid the dirt, a speck of metal winked.

“James, I think you just uncovered something.”

He looked down where he’d been digging. “Another rock?”

“No. It’s shiny.” She shuffled to the edge of the grass and pointed. “There.”

He crouched again and brushed his fingers over the newly exposed soil. “Ah, I’ve got it.” He stood, faced her, and opened his palm to reveal a small clump of soil. Gingerly, he pushed the dirt away to reveal a small metal ring.

“Incredible,” he whispered, moving closer so that she could see.

“Oh,” she said, striving to sound equally awed, even though it was hard to appreciate the band while it was caked with mud.

James rubbed the ring clean against the sleeve of his jacket, carefully rinsed it in the river, and dried it. His voice low with wonder, he said, “I think it’s gold, Olivia. And likely very, very old.”

His face was alight with excitement, and she could almost see his mind spinning, playing out the possible histories of the ring, imagining who might have worn it. And in that moment, she truly understood this passion of his. It wasn’t about achieving fame or fortune so much as touching a piece of the past. “Would you like to give me the journal? I can add some more notes and indicate where—”

“No.” He jumped up onto the grass and held out the ring. “Let’s see if it fits.”

Now the gold sparkled in his palm, looking like it could have come straight from a fancy jeweler’s on Bond Street. Olivia hesitated a moment, then swallowed and held out her right hand—since wearing any sort of band on the left before her wedding might be inviting bad luck. Even so, her traitorous fingers trembled.

James’s own hand was steady and his smile broad as he slid the ring on. “It’s perfect,” he breathed, smoothing his thumbs over the back of her hand while they admired the ring together. “It’s yours, Olivia. I want you to have it.”

“Shouldn’t you give it to Uncle Humphrey? This is his land.”

“He’d want you to have it. I’m sure.”

“But… but you haven’t even properly studied it yet. We don’t have any idea whom it belonged to. Maybe some poor picnicker dropped it and will return looking for it.”

James laughed. “A mere seven hundred years too late.”

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. How strange to be wearing something that might have been crafted in the Middle Ages. “It’s that old?”

“Quite possibly. Humphrey has been telling me stories, and he’s long believed that there was once a church or monastery somewhere along the river, dating back to the twelfth century.”

Heavens. “All the more reason why I can’t keep it.” She tried to slip it off, but it wouldn’t slide past her knuckle. James pressed her hand between his palms.

“If you hadn’t seen it, it would have been washed away with the next heavy rain and deposited on the bottom of the river, not to be found for another seven hundred years—if ever.” She opened her mouth to object, but he shook his head, raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it softly. Almost reverently. “Of all the people who have walked on this ground, I think you were meant to find it. You. And of all the days you could have found it, I think you were meant to find it today, which, in my mind at least, was pretty special.”

Something warm and tingly stirred in her belly. It
almost sounded as though her logical, scientific, number-loving fiancé believed in fate. “It
was
special.”

“Then it’s settled. The ring is yours. I’ll still purchase you a wedding band,” he added, “but you and I will know that this ring symbolizes our wonderful afternoon by the river.”

“And
in
the river,” she added mischievously. “Don’t forget about that.”

His mouth curled into a wicked grin. “As if I could.”

James cradled her face and kissed her like they were in front of a church.

It might have been the very best moment of her life—if she didn’t know that her happiness would come to an abrupt halt when he left for Egypt in a few short weeks.

“Uncle Humphrey, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Lady Olivia.” James sidestepped a cat that darted from the room, and Olivia bumped into an odd sculpture on a low table, steadying it just before it tipped over.

“At last.” Humphrey gripped the arms of his chair in order to hoist himself out of it, but Olivia stopped him. “Please, don’t get up. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crompton.” She smiled and bobbed her head.

“Pshaw, we’re to be family. You must call me Uncle Humphrey.” The man’s rheumy but kind eyes focused on Olivia, crinkling at the corners. “I’ve been asking James to bring you around for days. I know this place isn’t exactly Carlton House, but I haven’t forgotten how to play the part of host. I think we can round up some tea, can’t we, James?”

Before he could respond, Olivia smoothly removed a stack of books from an ottoman, set them on the floor,
and sat across from Humphrey. “Thank you, but I did not come for tea, only conversation. And though I’ve never been to Carlton House, I suspect that even if I had, I’d prefer your cottage, with books and curiosities in every corner.”

The old man nodded his approval. “How is your ankle? What happened to your crutches?”

James snorted. “An excellent question, Uncle. She should be—”

“I have decided to use them for kindling,” Olivia interrupted. “And my ankle is much improved, thank you.”

“Glad to hear it. No bride should have to walk down the aisle with crutches if she can avoid it.”

“Agreed,” she said, happy to have found an ally in James’s uncle. “And how are you feeling?”

He dismissed her question with the wave of a gnarled hand. “I tire easily. What else would you expect of a man my age? But I shall be at the church on the day you and James marry. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

James held up the bouquet of wildflowers that Olivia had picked on her way to the cottage. “Uncle, these are from Olivia. I’m going to see if I can find a vase for them.”

“Go on, then, but don’t use the African clay vessel—it’s from the fifteenth century, and it leaks. Oh, and don’t use the Greek vase with the Orpheus painting either. The cats already broke the matching one.”

James rolled his eyes and wandered toward the back of the cottage. “I’ll find something.”

“Excellent,” pronounced Humphrey, watching James walk away. “Now we may speak freely. I must have a look at this ring. May I?” He held out his hand.

“Of course. By all rights, it’s yours.”

He chuckled. “I have no need for it, and you found it.”

Olivia tugged at the ring, but it wouldn’t budge. “My finger must be a bit swollen,” she said apologetically.

“No matter, let me see.”

She stood before him and extended her hand, feeling rather awkward as he grabbed the magnifying glass on the table beside him and peered through the lens at the ring. “It’s very plain.”

“But beautiful in its simplicity.” Olivia felt the need to defend it.

“Oh, quite.” Humphrey’s eyes never left the gold band. “It has a slight bevel around the edges. Any inscription?”

Olivia frowned. She hadn’t removed the ring since the day they’d discovered it—almost a week ago. “I don’t know. There could be something on the inside.”

The old man’s eyebrows shot up his wrinkled forehead. “I’m surprised James didn’t check.”

“Speaking of James,” Olivia said, glancing toward the door where he’d left, “I know that he inherited his love of antiquities and exploring from you. May I ask you something of a personal nature?”

Humphrey set down his magnifying glass and laced his fingers together. “Certainly, my dear. Ask away.”

“Have you ever been on a large expedition?”

“No.” A wistful expression settled over his lined face. “I wanted to, though. I yearned for the adventure, the thrill of uncovering the secrets of the past.”

“What prevented you from going?”

“Responsibilities kept me here for many years. After that, my health prevented me from travel. So I must content myself with books and other men’s accounts of their
discoveries. I regret not going when I was young and able, but it’s hardly a tragedy.” Except, the pained expression on his face suggested it was.

Olivia had suspected as much, but even so, her heart sank. “James is considering giving up his spot on the expedition, and I don’t want him to. This is his dream and the opportunity of a lifetime. He must go to Egypt.”

“It’s generous of you to give him your blessing and encouragement. But whether or not he goes is his decision.” He tented his fingers and shook his head thoughtfully. “I certainly don’t envy him, having to choose.”

“What will it be like for him? Is it very dangerous?”

“It can be. The area where he’s traveling is far from England’s civilized shores. Other groups have suffered from the lack of food and water, diseases, and horrible, swarming insects.” Humphrey must have seen the alarm she felt, because he quickly added, “But James’s team will be well prepared, and he’s a far cry from your typical pampered Englishman. He can defend himself against anyone.”

That
was
some comfort. “Would you help me?” Impulsively, she reached out and clasped Humphrey’s hand. “Would you reason with him? Convince him to go? I can see how sad you are that you never had the chance, and I don’t want him to feel that way. I don’t want him to squander this opportunity because of me.”

“Young lady, if there is one thing I’ve learned in all my seventy-some years, it’s that logic is no match for love.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think love is a part of this equation. Did James tell you that my brother is forcing us to marry?”

The old man quirked a brow. “It makes little difference.”

Oh, but it did. To her, at least. “He didn’t have a choice.”

“We
always
have choices, my dear.”

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “Yes, we do.” Looking into Humphrey’s kind old eyes, she added, “Please, promise me that you’ll encourage him to go—no matter what. I know that, in his heart, he still longs to go. He belongs on that expedition.”

Humphrey opened his mouth to respond, but James strode into the room.

“Here we are.” He proudly presented the flowers, which he’d stuffed into a pitcher. Water dripped down the sides and several of the flower stems bent at odd angles. He looked about the room for a flat, available surface on which to place the arrangement.

“Shall I set that on the mantel?” Olivia took the flowers and attempted repairs before placing the pitcher out of the reach of the cats. She hoped Humphrey realized that she didn’t wish to continue the conversation about the trip in front of James.

“Lady Olivia, I must compliment you on your excellent drawings. I feel as though I’m there with you at the river. Such an idyllic spot, isn’t it?”

A flush crawled up her neck as she nodded mutely. She and James had found it idyllic, indeed.

“Will you be returning there today?” Humphrey asked.

James flashed her a knowing smile. “There’s much more to explore.”

Heavens. If she had any hope of encouraging James to leave her, she needed to stop spending so much time with him. “Actually, I need to return to the inn. I’m woefully behind on my correspondence.” It was true—she was always behind on her correspondence.

“Allow me to walk you back,” James offered.

“There’s no need. Stay and enjoy your uncle’s company.” Turning to Humphrey, she said, “Thank you for sharing your insight and wisdom, sir. It’s easy to see why you are James’s favorite uncle.”

“And it’s easy to see why he chose you as his fiancée,” he said, with a slight emphasis on the word
chose
.

“I look forward to seeing you again soon.” Olivia reached for one of his hands and gave it an affectionate squeeze.