In the corridor, she cast a weak smile at Michael and hurried away. Her stomach churned at the inevitability of her departure, and tears gathered behind her eyes. Reaching the sanctity of her office, she sat down to go over in her mind what had just happened. She’d suspected Redcliffe might take matters out of her hands and act, but never to do this. Such a remarkable man, so brave, resourceful, and endearing. The man of her dreams. But they could never be together, and she must focus on her future. Although the thought of leaving him threatened to break her heart.
She sat shakily down. Her long-held wish for independence was about to come true. She dug in her drawer for her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. As the owner of the haberdashery, Mr. Mockford planned to sell when he retired. A good life awaited her, safe, quiet, and steady. She would purchase the pretty cottage on Ivy Street, which had been empty for two years and needed loving care. How different her life would be. No longer would her emotions soar and plunge at every turn. It would be easier when she didn’t see him every day. Then surely, she would cease to long for a man she could not have. Really, she should be excited. She put her hands to her face. But she wasn’t. Oh, dear God, she wasn’t.
Her emotions were in turmoil, she had to get away from the house for a few hours. She would walk into the village. There was someone she wished to see.
Chapter Nineteen
After Olivia leftthe library, Dominic swore under his breath. His damn impatience. He hadn’t intended to raise the question of their future together now. He wandered over to the window and stared sightlessly out. Olivia wasn’t ready to hear it. But this wasn’t the end. He couldn’t give her up. They were meant to be together. He wouldn’t feel whole without her.
He’d arrogantly sought her as his mistress, but fortunately for them both, she wouldn’t agree to those terms. And he’d cheat himself, too, when he wanted her with him every day and every night. To share his life and bear his children.
But would she agree to marry him? Olivia faced the truth more bravely and honestly than anyone he had known. And he could hear her reasons for refusing him before she uttered the words. Sound ones, too. She must trust him. Believe him to be sincere and not a licentious rake. He didn’t believe for a moment that she wished for that half-lived life she sought. It was a compromise fate had forced on her.
Marriage to him would not be peaceful. Some in society wouldn’t welcome Olivia as his wife. He’d hate for her to suffer their cool indifference and criticism. He’d been the brunt of a scandal after the print shop window displayed the caricature of him cavorting in a bed with three women. Not everyone would have forgotten the scandal. He’d received the sobriquet of the rakehell earl and had not been society’s favorite son when he left London. Marriage to Olivia would stir it all up again. He didn’t give a damn about himself. But to see her suffer when thetonturned their backs would anger him because it was so unfair.
Not because she lacked refinement, which she possessed in abundance, but because she hadn’t been born into an aristocratic family. It was an undeniable fact.
Olivia’s grandfather, Judge Alistair Jenner, was a highly regarded, erudite man. Thebeau mondeflocked to hear him speak. And not all lords of the realm had impressive histories, many were granted lands and a title by the reigning monarch for political expediency, including a Redcliffe centuries ago. That didn’t make them superior to the judge or his granddaughter, although Dominic knew many would disagree.
Thank God for good friends. Charles and Nicholas would stand by him, and he was sure their wonderful, fair-minded spouses would take Olivia under their wing.
He would make Olivia happy. He wanted to see her treated as she deserved. Dressed like the lady she was. All that remained was for her to say yes. They could be married quietly here before facing the uproar in London.
Dominic frowned. As keen as he was to ask her to be his wife, he couldn’t. Not while someone conspired to kill him. He would never bring Olivia to the attention of this villain, whoever he is.
Jack knocked on the door, disturbing his thoughts.
“Sir Frederick Buckley said to expect him this afternoon, milord.”
Time enough to ride over to see how the Graveses fared. Olivia probably hadn’t called on them as she intended. He doubted she’d left the house since he’d been shot.
One day, she would ride beside him. He’d purchase a good mount for her. But how could he make plans when it all seemed so uncertain? He pushed his hair back with agitated fingers, wishing he could be sure of her. But he never gave up on what he wanted and gained confidence in knowing what she could not hide; she wanted him, too.
Was the gunman lurking in the woods waiting for another chance to shoot him? Dominic took his pistol from the drawer and loaded it. He hadn’t taken that bridle path since he was shot. Riding alone, if the man lurked there, he would draw him out. He’d be ready for an ambush this time. Tucking the pistol into the waistband of his breeches, he strode to the stables.
In a benevolent mood, Onyx cantered along the path. As Dominic entered the wood, the familiar smells of leaf mold and sun-warmed greenery engulfed him. Birds twittered above, swooping under the forest’s lush canopy. The sky had clouded over, but rain seemed far off as the path took him deeper into the densely forested woodland.
The deep potholes which had caused Onyx to stumble had dried up since the last deluge. The horse’s rhythmic gait allowed Dominic to search for a sign he wasn’t alone.
Nothing but a deer darting away. He clamped down his jaw, impatient to see an end to the threat that hung over his head like the sword of Damocles.
A few hundred yards ahead, a flock of birds erupted into the sky. A fox? He drew his pistol. Had it been overconfident of him to ride alone? The rifleman might wait somewhere ahead, well hidden among the trees. He should retreat and order Fellows to round up a few of the men to flush the devil out, but he might be wrong. And he wasn’t about to put anyone at risk. Nor would he run away.
He heard a rustling in the bushes and turned the horse off the bridle path and onto a narrow, less-used path, which gave him more cover.
A flash of movement caught his eye ahead of him. It wasn’t a fox. He swung his legs over the saddle and slipped to the ground, then slapped Onyx on the rump.
The horse galloped away.
Dominic’s experiences of war guided him. Alert to every sound, he crept forward, eager to face his enemy. “Come out and show yourself.”
The answer came swiftly; the shot biting off a piece of tree trunk a few feet above his head. Cursing, Dominic hunched over and changed direction, running toward the attacker.
He kept his head down but must have gotten too close for the gunman’s comfort. His assailant gave up his hiding place and sprinted away through the trees. With only one shot left, no doubt he wished to be sure of his mark.
Dominic ran after him, tearing through the bushes and zigzagging among the tree trunks to make himself less of a target. He had the man in his sights now. A short figure, his hat pulled down over his face. Dominic couldn’t see him well enough to identify him. Was it Pike? “Stop! Or I’ll shoot.”
Partly obscured behind a bush, the gunman swiveled and took aim.
