“Lady Armstrong, forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Lord Pressley said. “I was calling to you, but you apparently didn’t hear me.”
“Lord Pressley, I do not like to be grabbed. Please refrain from doing it in the future,” she said, finding the courage to stand up for herself for the first time in years. It felt good to assert herself for a change.
“My sincerest apologies, my lady. I meant no harm and wanted to ask if you’d like to go rowing with me.”
“No, thank you, my lord. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Pressley stepped in front of her. “Come now, Lady Armstrong. Why so coy? This is a house party, after all. Let’s have a little fun together, shall we?”
Panic rose in Olivia’s breast and her heart began to pound. Her breathing became rapid. Pressley had a dangerous look in his eyes like she was some kind of exotic prey he’d just captured. She looked behind her, but most everyone else had wandered down to the lake. “Please step aside, my lord, and let me pass.”
Pressley tried to reach for her again but was yanked backward and stumbled, nearly falling on his arse.
“The lady said she didn’t desire your company, Pressley,” Mr. Walker said. “Now, do us all a favor and leave the lady alone. I’m sure you wouldn’t want our host to find out you were harassing one of his guests.”
Lord Pressley smoothed down his coat and glared at Mr. Walker. “How dare you place your hands on me? Get out of my way, Walker. I’m having a private conversation with the lady.”
Olivia was impressed with Robertson’s friend. Several stones heavier than Pressley and towering over him, Miles Walker didn’t seem like someone who’d back down. He scowled at the young buck before turning to her and asking, “Lady Armstrong, are you well?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Walker. I’ll be heading inside now. Good day, gentlemen.” She hurried away from the two men, but not before hearing Mr. Walker say something about Pressley’s vowels. Was Pressley a gambler? It wouldn’t surprise her, but all she wanted right now was to be free of the young lord. She would be forever grateful for Mr. Walker’s intervention. After that scare, she decided she’d rather spend the afternoon alone, reading in her bedchamber. She wasn’t in the mood for any more company.
Her hopes for a delightful afternoon with Lord Robertson had been dashed, and Lord Pressley’s unseemly behavior had shaken her badly. She needed some peace and quiet to decide exactly what she wanted to do from here. Should she leave the house party? She certainly didn’t want to have any more encounters with Lord Pressley. He’d seemed nice at first, but he was far too aggressive for her liking, and she wanted nothingmore to do with him. From now on, she had to make sure she stayed far away from him.
She retreated quickly to her bedchamber, her heart still pounding at the close call, and spent half the afternoon barely able to settle down, her nerves cracking and her mind racing as she relived the moment of him grabbing her. She worried about what would have happened if Mr. Walker hadn’t been there and what Pressley might try next. She paced her bedchamber, breathing deeply, trying to regain her sense of calmness.
You are safe. You are safe she repeated over and over again.
A few hours later, Emma entered the room. “Lady Armstrong, I didn’t realize you were here. Are you well?”
“I am. I merely wanted some time alone before dinner.”
“I’ll order you a bath. Do you have a preference for what dress to wear this evening?”
Olivia stood up from her chair by the window and went to the armoire to look over the dresses she’d brought with her. She wanted to look her best for Lord Robertson this evening. “I think the yellow silk.”
“Perfect. Would you like a cup of tea while the footmen bringup the hot water?”
“Yes. Thank you, Emma. That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“My pleasure, my lady. I shall return shortly.”
By the time Olivia was dressed and headed downstairs, most of the guests were already in the parlor. She spotted Bett talking with Mr. Hughes, Lord Robertson, and Mr. Walker and headed toward them.
“Good evening, all,” she said.
Lord Robertson turned around and gave her a brilliant smile. “Good evening, Lady Armstrong. You look exceedingly beautiful this evening.”
Olivia blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, my lord.” She could definitely get used to such things.
“Would you care for a glass of sherry?” he asked.
She nodded and watched him go to the sideboard to fetch one. She moved closer to Mr. Walker. “Mr. Walker, I cannot thank you enough for your kindness earlier this afternoon.”
He nodded. “You’re most welcome, my lady. I don’t believe you’ll be bothered by Lord Pressley anymore. I have warned him off.”
“What’s this about Pressley?” Robertson asked as he handed Olivia the glass of sherry.
“Nothing. Merely a bit of a miscommunication on the young lord’s part,” Miles said.
