Scandalous Summer Nights (26 page)

T
hrough the window of the cabin, Olivia watched the sky turn pink. It would be dark soon, her self-imposed week of seclusion almost over.

She would spend one more night there, and in the morning use what little of her strength remained to walk to Uncle Humphrey’s cottage. She wondered if James’s kind old uncle would even recognize her.

Her normally bouncy curls were limp and tired. Her dress, covered in dirt and dust, hung on her like a sack. She could scarcely imagine how pale and drawn her face must look.

And so, partly because she had no wish to give Uncle Humphrey a stroke, and partly because she desperately
longed to be clean again, she decided that on this, her last night, she’d risk a quick swim in the river.

She found the small cake of lavender soap she’d packed, unwrapped it, and inhaled its sweet scent. She gathered the tin cup, too, and the shawl that would have to serve as a towel. When the sky turned a smoky shade of purple, she ventured out of the cabin.

The small indulgence of bathing in the river wasn’t going to ease the heartache of losing James—she doubted anything could—but at least she might feel human again.

She traipsed along the trail to the river, dropped her things on the grassy bank, and drank several cups of water. Nothing but pastures, mountains, and gorgeous sky surrounded her, and still, she hesitated. Stripping naked out of doors was daring, even for her. It had been different when James had been with her. She’d been too distracted by the heat in his green eyes and the feel of his hands on her to be embarrassed or ashamed.

So much had changed since then.

But after a week of tears, boredom, and hunger, she was determined to enjoy this small pleasure. She took a deep breath and hauled her dress and chemise over her head in one swoop, relieved to be free of the soiled garments. Her skin tingled in the humid evening air, and as she released her hair from its braid, the long strands tickled the small of her back.

She hopped down the embankment and sat on a smooth rock at the water’s edge. The rock, still warm from the sun, heated her bottom while she dipped her toes into the cool, gurgling river. Her nipples tightened in anticipation as she eased herself into the chilly water.

Without James to carry her, she couldn’t be squeamish
about letting her feet sink into the soft bed of the river. She grabbed the soap, dunked her head beneath the water’s surface, and came up gasping, cold droplets running down her neck. After lathering the soap between her palms, she worked it through her hair, then leaned back and let the gentle current rinse the suds away. Next, she scrubbed every inch of her body, from the tip of her nose to the spaces between her toes.

When at last she was done, she stepped from the river, skin pink and glowing in the moonlight, and rubbed herself dry with her soft shawl.

Darkness had fallen quickly, but she was reluctant to return to the cabin—and even more reluctant to don the dirty clothes she’d worn before.

But maybe she didn’t have to.

She scooped up her dress and chemise and, holding them at arm’s length, walked back to the river. It would only take a few more minutes to wash them, and if she hung them out overnight, they’d be mostly dry by morning; she could face Uncle Humphrey and her family wearing clean clothes.

She’d left her other, equally dirty, gown back in the cabin, so she had nothing to wear while she washed the clothes. Still, it wasn’t as though she had any company, save for a random deer or fox, and it wasn’t as though they wore breeches or jackets either.

So, whistling a melancholy ballad, she plopped herself down on the warm, smooth rock and went about washing her gown—her first ever attempt at playing the part of laundry maid.

Oddly enough, she found that the mindless work of swirling, soaping, rinsing, and wringing was rather soothing. It even took her mind off of James—a little bit.

James burst into Uncle Humphrey’s cottage and strode into the study, where Humphrey, not surprisingly, snored in his chair. Ralph limped into the room behind him, a crooked smile lighting his youthful face. “Welcome back.”

“You’re still here.” James hugged him, holding on a little longer than usual. “I thought you and Mother might have decided to return home. I glad you didn’t.” He led Ralph back into the small foyer so they wouldn’t disturb Humphrey.

“M-Mother turned in early tonight. Should I wake her?”

“No, let her rest.”

“She’s been worried about you,” Ralph admitted. “I told her you would be all right.”

“Of course I am. Olivia is the one who is in danger.”

“Wh-where is she?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” James dragged a hand through his hair. “A couple times I thought I was close to finding her, but I wasn’t. The only clue I have is this.” He dug deep into his pocket, withdrew the ring, and held it out for Ralph to see. “It’s hers. I found it on a path that runs parallel to the main road just outside the village.”

Ralph looked at the ring soberly, as if he understood that it represented all of James’s hopes—and his worst fears. “M-maybe it was loose and fell off while she was walking,” he ventured hopefully.

“Perhaps,” James replied. But he knew that the ring had fit snugly. He sank onto a bench in the cramped hallway and patted the space beside him; Ralph joined him.

They sat in silence for a minute, each lost in thought as James turned the gold band over and over between his
finger and thumb. “We found it a couple of weeks ago while I was digging on the northwest corner of Humphrey’s property. Olivia was the one who spotted it in the soil. I knew she was destined to have it.”

Ralph shook his head as though he hadn’t heard correctly. “B-by the river? I was walking there earlier today.”

“That far? You really are getting stronger,” James said proudly.

Normally, Ralph would have beamed at the compliment, but he frowned like he hadn’t heard it. “It’s odd you should m-mention that place. I thought I saw someone walking near the tree line this morning, but they d-disappeared into the woods before I could tell for certain.”

Good God. The cabin was nearby. What if she’d—

James grasped Ralph by the shoulders. “Could it have been Olivia?”

“The p-person was far away. I j-just assumed it was a boy poaching.” He closed his eyes as though he were envisioning the scene. “B-but yes,” he said confidently. “It could have been her.”

Suddenly, all the clues made sense. She’d packed clothes and food and wine. She’d never gotten on the mail coach.

What if, this whole time, Olivia had been hiding on Humphrey’s land, almost in plain sight? What if she’d spent the better part of a week trying to survive alone, in a primitive cabin in the woods?

“It could have been her,” James repeated. “I’m going to find out.”

Ralph’s brows knit together. “There’s n-nothing around there. What would she d-do for food?”

“If she’s hiding in the woods, I imagine she’s getting by on very little. Olivia can be quite stubborn.”

“N-not unlike someone else I know.” Ralph smiled as he jabbed James in the chest with one finger. “G-go see if your fiancée wishes to be rescued.”

James was already halfway to the door. “She probably doesn’t. But I’m going anyway.”

“Wait. T-take some cake with you, just in case.” Ralph pointed to the kitchen. “She could be starving, and a little food might help your chances of winning her over.”

For a younger brother, Ralph was rather wise. James scrounged around the small, cluttered kitchen and found some cakes, apples, and bread. He filled his flask with wine and stuffed the supplies into a bag.

As James prepared to leave, Ralph stifled a yawn. “Get some sleep,” he ordered. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I hope you have some good news then.”

James clasped his brother’s shoulder. “So do I.”

Minutes later, he was riding at breakneck speed in the darkness. Foolish, but he didn’t give a damn. He bent low over his horse and urged him on, trusting him to remember the way. Before long, a ribbon of water shimmered in the moonlight, and as it drew closer, he pulled up on the reins and dismounted.

He followed the familiar turns of the river, pausing at a couple of choice spots to look for footprints on the bank. Nothing. He passed the site where he’d uncovered the stones while Olivia had sat beside him, sketching. The rocks were lined up like soldiers, just as he’d left them, but there were more. Someone else had been digging along their riverbank.

The old cabin wasn’t far from here. He had only to search for the path that led into the woods. If he remembered correctly, it was about fifty yards southeast of—

Good God.

He drew up short and placed a quieting hand on his horse’s neck.

Ahead of him, he could just make out the silhouette of a woman perched on a rock like an elusive water nymph. Her damp hair veiled her face, and she whistled softly as she twisted fabric over the river, wringing the water from it.

He hoped it was Olivia—and he hoped it wasn’t. He needed to know that she was safe and well. But he hated the thought of her spending a week on her own, completely deprived of most necessities, let alone her usual luxuries.

And the truth was that it hurt like hell to know that she’d willingly endure this sort of hardship and misery to avoid a future with him.

He didn’t dare call out to the woman for fear she’d flee into the forest. Instead, he walked quietly along the river. With every step, his heart beat faster, as if it, too, recognized her swift, sure movements and the quizzical way she angled her head.

As he drew closer, a cloud that had shrouded the moon skirted away, illuminating Olivia just enough for him to see that she was, thank God, in one piece and unharmed.

She was also completely naked.

Desire pumped through him, and his cock hardened, even though his brain knew there were more pressing matters to attend to.

His horse whinnied, and Olivia’s head snapped around. In a blink, she was off and running. She dropped the garment she’d been washing and ran toward the woods, straight toward the cabin.

He gave chase, but by the time he reached the cabin, she’d already slammed the door. It was so dark beneath the foliage that he couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him.

“Olivia,” he called out. “Please, let me in. It’s me, James.”

A little cry came from behind the rickety door. “James? Is it really you?”

He swallowed and pressed his forehead lightly against the warped wood. “It is. Who else would know that you once hopped all the way across a cow field on one foot in the rain, and that you are a much better artist than you let on, and that you’re too squeamish to let your feet touch the bottom of the river?”

The door creaked open, just a crack. “I’m not squeamish about that anymore. However, if I see one more spider in here, I may very well lose my mind.”

Ah, this was still his Olivia. Relief flooded his veins. “I’m sorry I frightened you just now. I’m sorry about everything. Can we talk?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Give me a moment to put down my weapon and make myself presentable.”

Good God. “A weapon?”

“A knife,” she called from the dark interior. “A little souvenir from my travels.” When she returned to the door, she admitted him into the dark room. She’d wrapped a blanket around her and tucked it under her arms—arms that looked too thin.

He wanted to pull her close and feel her heart beat against his chest. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her skin and breathe in the intoxicating scent of her hair. But for now, he only brushed his knuckles gently against her cheek. “Are you all right?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Why?” he asked simply. She knew what he meant.

“I wanted you to go.” Her voice was hoarse and raw. “On your expedition. You
should
have gone. Why didn’t you?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that. Did you honestly think that I’d sail off to another continent without knowing where you were? Without knowing that you were safe?”

“Yes,” she said harshly. “I told you in my letter that I would be safe, and you can plainly see that I am. Why didn’t you take me at my word?”

“Why? Maybe I didn’t want to believe your damned letter. Not the part where you implied that the time we spent together meant nothing. Not the part where you told me I should leave you. And most definitely not the part where you said you didn’t love me after all.”

Silence stretched between them, and James wished to God he could see her face more clearly, or better yet, read what was in her heart.

“I wanted you to be happy,” she whispered at last. “I realized how selfishly I’d behaved when I chased after you. I expected you to give up your dream so that you could stay here and fulfill mine. And then Owen caught us and the choice was taken away from both of us.”

“I’ll admit it felt that way at first. But the more time I spent with you, the more I realized we were meant to be.” He clasped her hands between his, praying she’d understand. “Every mishap, every conversation, every kiss brought me closer to you. I love you, Olivia.”

“Oh, James.” She looked up at the ceiling of the shack like she was trying to keep her tears from brimming over.
“I love you, too. But I really wanted you to go—to realize your dream.”

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms.

She took two halting steps toward him, then buried her face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt.

He ran his hands over her back and curled his fists into her damp hair, assuring himself that she really
was
here with him and reveling in the rightness of holding her again.

“Olivia,” he said softly, “it means the world to me that you went to such lengths just to convince me to go. You’re the most generous person I know. But I gave up my spot on the expedition before you ran away.”