Scandalous Summer Nights

by Anne Barton

  “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.”

  “I wish you hadn’t.”

  “I thought you’d be happy that we would begin our marriage together.”

  “But I keep thinking about poor old Uncle Humphrey.”

  “What does Humphrey have to do with any of this?”

  “He never got to go on an expedition, never got to explore the world beyond the pages of his books. And when he talks about the opportunities he missed… well, his eyes look sad and haunted.”

  “That’s because he drinks too much and spends far too much time in the company of his cats.”

  “I think it’s because he never followed his dream. And I couldn’t bear it if one day, years from now, I saw the same haunted look in your eyes. I want you to be happy—truly happy.”

  He tipped
her chin up and smoothed the pad of his thumb along her jaw. “Well, the first thing that would make me happy is getting out of this miserable cabin.” He swept her into his arms, kicked the door back, and angled her body through the opening. She nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder, and for the first time in a week, James exhaled.

  He let out all the worry and fear and uncertainty and felt that empty space fill with love and hope and goodness.

  He carried her to their spot by the river and set her on her feet before shrugging out of his jacket and laying it on the ground. “It’s not much of a blanket, but less itchy than sitting on the grass.”

  She laughed as she sat, tucking her legs beneath her. “Grass does not bother me. In fact, after this week, little does.”

  “Except for spiders.”

  “Of course.”

  Recalling the stones by the river, he asked, “Were you, perchance, digging during your stay here?”

  “I might have done a little exploring of my own.” She grinned. “I found a bit of metal that looks like it might have been a cross—and more stones, too.”

  He arched a brow. “You sound like an antiquarian.”

  She shrugged her thin shoulders. “I needed something to fill my days. I have to admit it was… pleasant.”

  “And maybe a little exciting?”

  “Yes.” She nuzzled his neck, and his pulse leaped in response.

  He beckoned his horse with the cluck of his tongue and untied the bag from his saddle. “I brought a few provisions.”

  Olivia’s head perked up instantly. “You have food?”

  “I do.” He handed her the bread and chuckled as she ate every last crumb. He gave her everything he’d brought, including the flask of wine.

  While she ate, he retrieved the dress and chemise she’d been washing. He wrung them out once more before spreading each garment on a rock to dry.

  As she licked a drop of apple juice from the back of her hand, she lay back and gazed happily at the sky. “That was the best meal I have ever had—especially the cake,” she sighed.

  James sprawled beside her. “That was actually Ralph’s idea. He was walking around here this morning and thought he saw someone. And I wondered if it might have been you. I hoped.”

  “Ah. I had a feeling I wasn’t alone this morning. I am glad to know it was your brother, and not the robber who I—Well, never mind.”

  “You needn’t worry about him anymore.”

  “How is your brother? And your mother?”

  “They are fine. But right now, I want to talk about us.”

  Olivia blinked and turned toward him. “I’ve made a mess of things, have I not?”

  “No. I don’t think this”—he pressed his palm to hers—“qualifies as a mess at all.”

  “Well, what would you call it?”

  “I’d call it love. You braved a week in the wilderness in the hopes that I’d travel to Egypt. I scoured half of the English countryside searching for you because I can’t imagine a future without you in it.”

  Hope curled in her belly, warm and sweet. “Then I suppose it’s a very good thing that you found me.”

  “I love you, Olivia. More than a museum full of ancient artifacts and a desert full of unearthed relics.”

  She quirked a brow at him. “High praise, indeed.” More soberly, she added, “And I love you. More than a wardrobe full of exquisite gowns and a bakery full of hot cross buns. And I’m not saying that just because of your chest”—she ran her hand over the smooth broadcloth of his shirt—“although that might have something to do with it.”

  James leaned in and touched his forehead to hers. “I was so worried about you.” The anguish in his voice nearly brought her to tears. “I thought—”

  “Shhh.” She smoothed a fingertip over his full bottom lip. “I’m here. I’m fine. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  With that, she pressed him down onto his back, leaned over him, and touched her lips to his. For the briefest of moments, they were frozen just so. Only the two of them existed, their breath mingling in the warm summer air.

  This was what she had always wanted. The kind of love that could survive secrets and mistakes of huge proportions. The kind of love that took a hopeless situation and made it seem… well, right.

  Desire flared and the kiss deepened. James groaned as he tugged at the blanket she’d wrapped around her. It fell away, leaving her completely bared to him. Greedily, he caressed her breasts, hips, and bottom, setting her on fire.

  She pulled at his clothes, too, and soon the warm, hard planes of his chest and torso grazed her nipples, tantalizing and teasing them to aching points.

  He slipped a hand between her legs and touched her entrance. She was wet already, and trembling with need. “James,” she breathed, “I lied in my letter. I’ve never stopped loving you. It’s always been you. It always will be.”

  He rolled on top of her, slid his hands beneath her bottom, and looked at her with a tenderness that left her breathless. “You’ve given my life meaning, Olivia. I was searching all over the place trying to find something… something that really mattered. You were right here, all along.”

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him close. He looked into her eyes as he entered her slowly, their bodies joining perfectly.

  They moved together, rocking until they were panting, hot, and desperate for release.

  “Don’t ever leave me again, Olivia,” he begged, cradling her head in his hand.

  Her heart squeezed in her chest, and the pulsing between her legs spiraled. “I won’t. I pro—”

  The word died on her lips as an unstoppable wave of pleasure surged through her. She arched her back, pulling James along with her.

  He said her name as he came; he said it like a prayer.

  And when the sweet tremors subsided at last, he rolled onto his side and gave her a grin that melted her insides like chocolate. Again.

  He took a long curl that lay on her shoulder and wound it around his finger. “Tomorrow we will deal with our families and their questions and wedding plans. Tonight is just about you and me. And I can’t imagine anything more perfect.”

  Olivia sighed happily, but it wasn’t quite perfect.

  Luckily, she had an inkling of how to make it so.

  Chapter Thirty

  James hoped he was repeating the words correctly.

  Each time he looked at Olivia, radiant and beautiful in a pale blue silk gown, he forgot where he was—namely, the tiny church in Haven Bridge, at his own wedding.

  He dragged his eyes away from his lovely bride to Huntford, sitting in the first pew and swiping suspiciously at his eyes. The duke had been so relieved when Olivia was found that he’d agreed to her request to delay the wedding for two more weeks.

  Anabelle may have had something to do with that. She said that Olivia needed to regain some weight before she wore the wedding gown that she had created for her. And she simply refused to alter it again.

  The extra fortnight also allowed some of the relatives who’d left Haven Bridge after the first wedding attempt to return. Foxburn accompanied Daphne this time, and the earl looked more relaxed than James had ever seen him. He still wore a wry grin—the kind that mocked James for being a lovesick sap. Which he was. Of course, Foxburn was equally smitten with his own lovely wife and James would remind him of that fact at the first opportunity.

  Olivia’s sister, Rose, and half sister, Sophia, sat beside each other. They looked happy and… relieved. Perhaps they knew better than anyone how stubborn their sister could be.

  James’s mother and brother were sitting in the front pew behind him. Ralph wore a smart jacket and cravat and beamed proudly. His mother dabbed at her eyes. She’d casually worked the subject of grandchildren into the conversation no less than three times in the past two weeks.

  Uncle Humphrey was sandwiched between two of Olivia’s great-aunts. He’d cut back on the brandy for the last several days and vowed that he’
d be fit enough to haul himself out of his chair and attend the wedding. Sure enough, he had, and some of the older ladies had even declared him to be utterly charming.

  “Mr. Averill?”

  James jerked his gaze to the vicar’s face and shot him an apologetic smile. “I take this woman to be my wife…”

  An hour later, he and the wedding guests were milling about the lawn behind one of the cottages Huntford had rented, enjoying a small but elegant breakfast that Olivia’s family had arranged.

  Olivia and Daphne sat beside Ralph, and the three were deep in conversation about their plans to arrange outings for the children at the foundling home. Olivia had suggested enlisting Ralph’s help with the project, and he was delighted to be involved.

  “Autumn will be the perfect time for a picnic in the countryside,” Daphne said. “We can have the girls bring journals and write notes about the plant life and animals they observe. I must brush up on the Latin names so that the girls will have the correct nomenclature.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “The whole point of the outing is to get their noses out of books for a few hours. It shall be an afternoon without Latin!”

  “But we must make the most of this learning opportunity.” Daphne turned to Ralph, looking for support.

  “P-perhaps the girls could collect a few s-specimens and look up their names when they’re back at the foundling home. An activity for a rainy d-day.”

  Olivia stood and kissed Ralph squarely on the cheek. “You are both diplomatic and brilliant—just like your brother.”

  She cast James wicked glances as she flitted between the guests, thanking them for coming and graciously accepting their good wishes. Her cheeks were no longer hollow and her stunning gown revealed that her lush curves had returned. With her hair piled on top of her head and her flowing dress, she resembled a classic Greek beauty.

  Best of all, she had a lovely twinkle in her eyes that could mean either that she was very happy or up to something.

  He suspected both.

  She walked to a table, grabbed a silver fork, and tinged it against her champagne glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention.” She cast a heart-stopping smile in his direction. “Especially yours, Mr. Averill.”