Suddenly she looked up and saw him. As he stood there, she looked toward him and their eyes met, fusing together, caught in a moment in time, deep within this ancient woodland.
Marcus called a greeting as he walked toward the clearing.
Suddenly she reached for her bonnet and pulled it onto her head, tying the ribbons tightly under her chin. She stood, smoothing down her skirts and checking her chignon was in place beneath her straw bonnet.
“Pray accept my apologies. I’m traveling to Longhamsted and knowing my horse needed a drink, I remembered this pool was here. I used to play here as a boy. I did not mean to disturb you.”
Why have I just lied about where I’m going?he thought.I don’t want to tell her I’m an earl. If she is the daughter of a local farmer, it might scare her away.
He bowed his head in formal greeting, as she nodded in acknowledgement.
I’m dressed for a day riding around the estate. I look nothing like a gentleman of the ton.
The sound of Hector’s neighing echoed in the valley.
“It sounds as though your horse is restless, sir,” she said, walking toward him. “You need to bring him to the water for that drink.”
For a moment he almost protested at her manner, directing him, telling him what to do. However, he found he didn’t mind,something about her manner intrigued him. He might be wrong about her being the daughter of a farmer, she had the air of a young lady of nobility.
They fell into step together, walking back toward Hector. Marcus untethered his horse and, as Hector tossed his mane, the young woman reached out to settle him.
“There boy, settle down,” she murmured, almost whispering to the horse.
She is used to being around horses. Hmm. Quite a mystery.
“He’s a fine horse. My brother used…” she stopped suddenly before continuing. “May I ask, sir, if you have travelled far today?”
As he took Hector to the pool, Marcus realized he had not yet introduced himself to this exquisite vision of loveliness. He left Hector to get a drink, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Marcus said, “I must apologize, madam, I have not introduced myself. I am Mr. Brandon Hatfield,” Marcus said, using his middle name, in case she knew of Marcus Hatfield. He continued, “I am seeking employment as an estate manager at Belvedere Abbey.”
Bobbing a courtesy, as befitted the rules of polite society, even here in the depths of the forest, she replied, “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Hatfield. My name is Olivia.”
Marcus noted, but did not comment, that she had not given him her surname.
“And where do you live, Olivia?” Marcus asked.
Marcus was surprised by her answer. “I am staying at Leighton Manor, with a friend,” Olivia replied.
What is a young lady doing out walking alone without a chaperone?
After Hector finished drinking, Olivia suggested tethering the horse in the clearing so he could rest and still see his master.
As they walked Olivia stumbled and caught her skirt in a wild blackberry bush. “Oh no, I’m caught in the bramble bush. I’m not missish, Mr. Hatfield, and would be grateful if you would help me to extricate myself.”
As Marcus gently removed the thorns of the bramble from Olivia’s dimity print skirt his hand brushed against hers and he felt a surge of desire, the strength of which took him by surprise.
Soon Hector was settled and tethered in the shade of a willow tree. Marcus didn’t want to say goodbye to this young woman.He frantically tried to think of something to say which would make her stay a little longer.
“Might I suggest we make use of these troublesome brambles, and pick the berries, which look perfect and ready to eat.”
The young lady hesitated, then surprised him by agreeing. “I have a basket with me,” she said. “I had planned to pick berries later.”
“Well, I have half a loaf of bread, some cheese, and several apples if you would care to join me for a picnic lunch?” he suggested.
And so, Marcus, Earl of Hatfield found himself seated on the edge of a woolen blanket, in a woodland glade in a far corner of his country estate. He shared an impromptu picnic, conversing with a young lady whose every word fascinated him.
Marcus had met many women over the years, including his liaison with the Contessa, and the many bland young ladies of quality, whom his mother was convinced would make an excellent bride.
The latest of these being Lady Cressida Lantham, who had been a regular visitor to Belvedere Abbey since his return. So many heads nodding in agreement with his every word, so careful of every propriety. He could not imagine one of those ladies, including his Contessa, sitting on a woolen blanket in a forest,unaware of blackberry stains on her chin, telling him about an encounter with a roe deer.
