It was mid-day when he stopped at theWhite Swan Inn, not that he wanted to, but he had to give Perses abit of a rest. He’d been riding steadily for hours and didn’t want to lame his stallion or suffer a lung attack. He made himself take a few bites to eat despite having no appetite, but it forced him to give his horse a bit of a rest before getting back on the road. The urgency he felt to see Olivia again would not quiet.
He was such a fool.
Why hadn’t he told her that he loved her their last night in the garden? His admiration meant nothing to her—he could see that now. She was looking for love and would settle for nothing less. The change in her during the house party had astounded him. She’d gone from a meek and timid young woman to someone who knew what she wanted and needed in her life and wasn’t afraid to insist upon having it.
He’d been too blind at the time to realize what a hold she had on his heart. The last person he’d loved was his brother, and when Grayson died, he’d thought it better to live a life without love rather than endure such heartache again. How wrong he was.
Love was worth every heartache, and he didn’t want to hold back any longer. He wolfed down the stew the innkeeper’s wife had made without even tasting it and left a generous tip behind before racing to the stables.
“He’s been fed and watered, my lord. Will there be anything else?” the stableboy asked.
“No,” Robertson said, taking hold of the reins and dropping a few coins in the boy’s hand.
“My lord, this is too much.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure your family can use the coin,” Robertson said, vaulting into his stallion’s saddle and racing away.
The sky looked ominous, and Robertson hoped he could make it to the Armstrong estate before the skies opened up. A crack of thunder momentarily startled his horse, but a soothing hand upon his neck got Perses back on track again.
“That’s a good boy. Come on. I’ve got a woman to woo.”
He’d only gone a few more miles when the skies opened up with torrential rain and howling wind. Robertson pulled his hat down low on his head and kept going at a much slower pace. The roads were slippery and he didn’t want Perses to lose his footing. There was no way he was going to let a little rain—well, maybe a lot of rain—stop him from reaching Olivia and confessing his feelings to her.
By the time Armstrong Manor came into view, Robertson was soaked to the skin and his chest felt tight constricted. He needed to take a few deep breaths to calm his rapid breathing. Perses was also blowing hard. He’d pushed his stallion hard, trying to reach the woman he loved. He rode up the front drive andjumped off his horse. Striding to the door, he let the knocker bang down.
It took a few moments before an older butler with gray steaks in his brown hair opened the door. “May I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for Lady Armstrong.”
“Lady Armstrong?”
“Yes. I must speak with her most urgently,” he said, wiping rainwater out of his eyes.
He must have looked like a drowned rat because the butler stared at him a moment longer before he said, “Lady Armstrong no longer resides here.”
That was the last thing Robertson expected to hear. Olivia no longer lived here? Had he missed his chance to build a new life with the one person who could heal his wounded soul? “What do you mean? Where did she go?”
“Sir, I’m not at liberty to say.”
Robertson was out of patience. He was so close to confessing his love. He had to find her. “Not at liberty to say or won’t say?” he growled.
“I hardly think that matters, sir,” the butler said, standing his ground.
Robertson took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. If he wanted to get any information out of Olivia’s loyal staff, who clearly wanted nothing more than to protect her, he’d have to appeal to theirbelief in love. “I understand your loyalty to your mistress and the need to protect her, and I find it most commendable, but I’m desperate to find her. I also want to protect her, but it’s more than that. She means everything to me, and there’s something I need to tell her with utmost urgency.”
This wasn’t going well.
The butler stood assessing him. Was he trying to decide if Robertson was worthy of Olivia? If so, he couldn’t fault the man for protecting her, but he wanted that to be his job; of course, that all depended on whether or not she accepted his offer of marriage.
He had to try a different tack…maybe just state his intentions. “I’m the Earl of Robertson and the man who’s going to marry Lady Armstrong.”
“Harris,” the woman said, walking up behind the butler and stepping around him. “Lord Robertson, I’m Mrs. Elliott, the housekeeper here at Armstrong Manor, and this is Harris. As you can see, we’re quite protective of Lady Armstrong. She’s had enough heartache in her young life to last a lifetime, and we don’t wish to see her hurt again.”
Robertson nodded. “I understand, Mrs. Elliott, your need to protect Lady Armstrong, but I must find her. Please tell me where she has gone?”
“How do we know you can be trusted?” Harris asked.
“What do you need me to do?” Robertson pleaded. “Get down on my knees and beg? I will certainly do that and whatever else to convince you of my true feelings for the lady.”
