Surely you can’t find her that repulsive…
How he must loathe her if he couldn’t bring himself to touch her, not even for ten thousand pounds.
As for Montague…
Her brother—the one man she believed actually cared for her—thought so little of her that he had to bribe her husband to bed her.
After the initial shock of hearing the valet so casually refer to the transaction as if she were a piece of rotten meat that not even a ravenous dog would dare take a bite of, Olivia had summoned sufficient courage, aided by a little brandy she’d appropriated from anearby parlor, to return to the breakfast room to confront her husband. But he’d gone. According to the footman, Devereaux had ridden out with his steward and was not expected to return before supper.
An afternoon touring the gardens had only served to increase her despair. They were in a worse state than the house—overgrown, choked with weeds and the rosebushes in desperate need of attention, their leaves dotted with brown specks. As to her companions—Jacob was gallant enough, but his deep-set eyes only served to remind her of the man who’d declared his disgust of her. And Nicola—though more congenial than at their first meeting, showering Olivia with gratitude for employing her younger sister—could do nothing to lessen Olivia’s melancholy. For Nicola clung to Jacob, her eyes filled with devotion and desire as he steered her about the gardens. And Jacob, though not returning Nicola’s devotion, at least didn’t look on her with distaste.
After she’d had her fill of their company, Olivia sought solitude elsewhere, unable any longer to conquer the sour taste of envy that clung to her soul at the sight of a couple who, while perhaps not in love, at least took pleasure in each other’s company.
And the only refuge to be had was in the forest, away from the house, hidden deep among the trees.
Her foot caught another stone and pain exploded in her ankle as she crashed to the ground, reaching out to break her fall. For a moment, she lay still, biting her lip to stem the sobs, waiting for the pain to subside. What a pathetic creature she was, shedding tears at the slightest provocation!
No wonder he despises me.
When the pain had lessened to a dull, throbbing ache, Olivia struggled to her feet, wincing at the soreness in her palms, then limped toward a tree.
Heavens!That hurt.
She stiffened as she heard a rustle from behind and leaned againstthe tree. Then she heard a high-pitched squeal that was quickly silenced.
A mouse, most likely, meeting its end at the talons of a predator. A fox, perhaps? When she’d crossed the open land leading toward the forest, she’d spotted a russet-brown, bushy-tailed creature darting toward the tree line.
She glanced back, but there was no sign of a creature. Nor could she see the main house, concealed by the trees and the brow of the land, which sloped downward.
It would be a long trek back, but she had no wish to return just yet. For the first time since she arrived at Penham Park, she was free of its inhabitants, at least for a while, her only companions the rooks circling overhead, and the occasional cow lowing in the distance.
At leasttheywon’t judge me for my birth or think me repulsive.
Or have so little regard for her that they felt the need to pay another a fortune to bed her.
“Oh, brother,why?”
The forest muffled her cry, and she continued along the path, each step taking her further away from torment. The scent of pine filled the air, and she drew in a lungful, willing her mind to calm. Pain flared in her ankle again and she paused and drew her shawl about her shoulders, listening to the song of the wind through the trees.
But there was no wind. Closing her eyes, she focused on the sound. It was deeper, more musical, varying in tone, and it came from ahead, not above. The rush of water, perhaps? Jacob had said something about a nearby river earlier that afternoon, though he’d warned her not to look for it on her own.
Yet another man who considered her incapable, unworthy.
Olivia glanced at her palms where the skin was grazed and smeared with dirt, then she flexed her fingers, flinching at the soreness. If she could get to the water, she could at least wash the dirt off.
Jacob be damned. Devereaux be damned.
She glanced about, her heart beating in anticipation even though she’d spoken in her mind. But no response came. Emboldened, she tilted her head up once more and raised her voice, venting her frustration at the husband who did not want her.
“Devil take him!”
A twig snapped from behind, and Olivia stifled a scream.
It’s just a fox, you simpleton.
Footsteps approached, and her gut twisted in fear.
Ignoring the pain in her ankle, she continued toward the sound of the water. She’d be safe there. Most animals disliked the water. Her brother’s pointer refused to get his feet wet, much to Montague’s frustration.
