“We’re going to Hollyfield,” he decreed.
She sat up straighter. “That’s a terrible idea. If anyone hears I’m there with you, alone, I’ll be ruined.”
Dev’s snort of amusement floated back to her. “I hate to break it to you, Livvy darling, but you’realreadyruined.”
“Only by association,” she countered. “Because of my father’s stupidity.Not personally, for being a lightskirt—which is what I’ll be labelled if everyone thinks I’m your mistress.”
“Nobody’s going to know you’re with me. Your uncle’s not going advertise the fact that he bartered you away to settle a debt, since it doesn’t reflect well on him, and I’ll have the burly footman who goes to collect your things remind him of that. My servants are all impeccably trained not to gossip—they’ve seen far worse than an unchaperoned woman in my house, and everyone else will assume you’re shut away, mourning your father. No-one will expect to see you out in society for at least a month. Maybe two.” He sounded annoyingly cheerful.
The panic of facing Hubert was quickly morphing into a new anxiety over being alone with Devlin. Still, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. Hollyfield was vast, after all. If she was forced to accept his hospitality for a night, she could simply stay out of his way. “It’s still a bad idea,” she muttered.
Dev shook his head. “Sorry, can’t hear you! Too windy!”
Livvy snorted against his back. Liar. He’d been able to hear her perfectly well before. He was just avoiding the conversation, the slippery devil.
Since there was nothing else for it, she concentrated on staying atop the horse, and after a torturous few minutes they trotted through the impressive iron gates of Hollyfield, the country residence of generations of Dukes of Dalkeith.
It took another ten minutes just to cross the park and approach the house, and Livvy couldn’t resist a peek around Dev’s broad shoulder as it finally came into view. It was an impressive sight, with herds of fallow deer grazing beneath the trees and the vast lake where she and Daisy had learned to swim when they were ten. The water shimmered like dull pewter beneath the leaden sky, ripples gusting across its surface, and she shivered, glad of Dev’s broad shoulders shielding her from the worst of the wind.
“Nearly there,” he murmured. “You’ll soon be in the warm.”
The house itself looked like a small village from a distance; countless chimneys rising to the sky and acres of windows reflecting the looming clouds. The honey-colored stone was welcoming, despite the bleak weather, and Olivia’s heart clenched in memory of the happy summers she’d spent there with Daisy as a child.
A servant appeared at the top of the front steps as they rounded the circular drive, and Olivia accepted his help to dismount. Dev handed the reins to him, then herded her inside.
It was a relief to be out of the cold as they entered the imposing entrance hall, but her awkwardness returned as Devlin greeted another impassive-looking servant dressed in the stately navy and gold livery of the house.
“Ah, Fletcher.” He handed the man his coat and gloves. “You remember Miss Olivia Price? Her father has sadly just left us.Shuffled off this mortal coil, as Shakespeare would say.” His jovial tone reflected no regret whatsoever.
The servant sent her a solicitous glance. “My condolences, miss.”
“Thank you,” Olivia replied with a weak smile.
“Miss Price will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.” Dev said.
“Miss Price will be staying for a single night,” Olivia corrected sternly, sending Devlin a chiding glance. “And that, under duress.”
Dev sent her a smile that made her pulse flutter. “It’s true. Miss Price has been kidnapped, Fletcher. Abducted, if you will. Like Hades and Persephone.”
“Indeed sir?” The unflappable Fletcher did not seem remotely surprised. Dev could probably confess to stealing the crown jewels and Fletcher would merely ask where he would like them displayed and provide him with an alibi.
“She’ll have the pale blue bedroom,” Dev said. “For an as-yet-unspecified length of time. And a hot bath as soon as you can.”
He glanced back at her, and a flicker of distaste crossed his features as he took in her bedraggled dress. “She’ll need clothes, too. Something colorful. Anything except black or gray.” He met her eyes as if challenging her to contradict him, but Olivia held her tongue. “And tell cook we have a guest for dinner.”
Fletcher bowed. “Very good, Your Grace.”
He turned and stalked off, and Olivia rubbed her hands over her arms, trying to ward off the chill.
Dev noticed. “This way. There’s a fire in my study. Let’s get you warmed up.”
He strode away down a marbled hallway, not even looking to see whether she followed him, and Olivia scowled at his high-handed presumption. Bloody Dukes. Convinced the world would just jump to their bidding.
Unfortunately, in this instance, he was right. She scurried after him, too eager to thaw herself out than berate him.
Chapter Four
“Ishouldn’t be wearing colors,” Olivia scolded as she held her hands out toward the fire roaring in the grate. A blissful heat bathed her chilled fingers and made them tingle. “Whatever he might have done, I should still observe a few weeks of mourning. Hewasmy father.”
