“Moonbeam is a gentle mare,” said Marcus, “I think you’ll enjoy riding her. Don’t be deceived though, she can gallop faster than most horses.”
“She is a lovely horse,” agreed Olivia.
“Come, let’s set off,” said Marcus. “It’s a long journey around the estate, we may not complete the circuit today.”
After trotting, then cantering across the parkland, they broke into a gallop and raced across the wilder downs.
When Marcus slowed to a walking pace, they moved toward the northern woods in companionable silence.
“The countryside here is beautiful,” Olivia told him. “I love the contrast between the heathland and the hills.”
“I suspect you will recognize the scenery soon. We’re close to Viscount Leighton’s lands.”
“My mother insisted that you see the forest and the lake, and we’re almost there. The horses can take a drink and rest.” Hepaused before adding, “While I show you the hidden glade and the lake, Cendrillon.”
Olivia drew in a breath, of course they were approaching the place where they had met for the first time on that autumn day.”
Marcus led the way down a pathway along the valley side. Olivia heard the stream and knew they were nearing the hidden glade.
Her memories of that first meeting had stayed with her throughout the winter. Since they had met again, she’d often imagined herself back in that glade, far away from the real world in a cocoon of fairy tale romance.
As she wrote love scenes in the book she was writing, Marcus was her inspiration. She knew all the heroes she wrote about in future would be based on the Earl of Hatfield. When they were together her eyes followed him. When he spoke, she listened to the timbre of his voice and knew she could listen all day. When he touched her, sometimes by chance, her heart raced, and she could think of nothing else.
She heard his voice, the smooth, deep tones bringing her back to the present moment.
“We can let Hector and Moonbeam rest for a while,” said Marcus.
Marcus came round to offer Olivia his assistance in dismounting from Moonbeam. She felt dizzy when his arms enfolded her, to lift her gently to the ground. Held close against him, she longed to lean closer to his long, lean body. As he let go of her, she put her head close to Moonbeam, as she recovered from the extreme dizziness she felt after being lifted down by Marcus.
“Come,” he said gently and took her hand to lead her into that familiar forest glade. Olivia raised her eyes to his, feeling suddenly shy as she remembered that first day when they had met. She gazed into his eyes, and he spoke so quietly that she almost didn’t hear his words.
“I could drown in those blue eyes every day,” he whispered.
They looked at each other, their eyes locked.
Olivia smiled. She relaxed into the moment as he took her into his arms. “Cendrillon,” he said. “I’m still convinced you are a creature from the land of fae.”
Her fluttering nerves calmed, and she felt safe. As she looked up into his eyes, she had the sensation of leaving the real world a long way behind her.
I think I’ve stopped breathing,she thought.Maybe this is enchantment and we’re in a fairytale world where I’m Cendrillon with her handsome prince.
When he spoke the words were muffled at first, and it took her a few seconds to return to reality. He offered her his arm and she felt the spark of warmth spreading throughout her body.
“Let’s walk by the lake,” he said, moving apart from Olivia and offering her his hand. They walked together and he showed her the glistening, silver lake and how it merged into the horizon.
“I love to swim here,” he told her. “It’s what I was doing on the day that we met. Why didn’t you tell me you were a lady?” he asked.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t a lady,” she responded. “You didn’t tell me you were an earl. In fact, I remember being convinced that you were in fact a local farmer.”
“A local farmer?” he asked in surprise, “Olivia. I think that may, in fact, be a compliment.”
Chapter 18
Marcus watched Olivia as they made their way around the lake path. He’d been impressed with the way she had ridden Moonbeam and held her own as they galloped across the heathland. Few women he knew were as skilled at riding. Olivia rode because she enjoyed riding and not because it was expected of a young lady.
He’d laughed out loud when she had told him that for many months she had thought he was the son of one of the local farmers. He’d been honest when he told her he thought that was a compliment.
Olivia made him laugh and said exactly what she thought. How refreshing to spend time with someone who treated him as an equal, an ordinary person, and not the heir to a Dukedom. She had liked him when she thought he was a farmer, and it made no difference to her whether he was a farmer, an earl, or a duke. The contrast with Lady Cressida, and the other young ladies whom his Mama had invited to Belvedere Abbey over the years, was clear.
