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It didn’t. He smiled broadly, showing off yellowed teeth. “Mayhap we’ll ’ave t’ fight for ye then.”
He grabbed her arm roughly and she gasped in outrage. “Unhand me at once!”
She attempted to yank her arm free, but he was too strong. He stood and dragged her out of her chair at the same time. She stumbled, and he took advantage of her own momentum to bring her up against his chest.
“Ah, Matthews, leave ‘er alone.” Olivia was grateful that his companion was willing to intercede on her behalf, but any argument he made fell on deaf ears. In the end, she watched as he decided the trouble wasn’t worth it, as he sat down into one of the vacated chairs and leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“Ye’re a fine-lookin’ wench.” The man holding Olivia captive licked his lips and attempted to kiss her, but she whipped her head to the side, so that his lips came into contact with her cheek instead. He dug his fingers into her jaw and brought her back around to face him. “’Old still!” This time, his mouth found their target and Olivia held her breath as the overpowering scent of alcohol assailed her nostrils.
She pushed at his chest, to no avail. Frustrated tears began to sting her eyes, for her first kiss was meant to be pleasant and gentle, not forced and unwanted.
As soon as the thought pierced her mind, she was abruptly released. She turned to see Mr. Stone deliver a bone-crunching fist to the man’s jaw before he crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap.
His friend, who had been sitting by idly, jumped to his feet with his hands outstretched in entreaty. “I… I don’t want no trouble,” he stammered, his eyes widening at the intimidating stance of his opponent. Olivia found Mr. Stone to be fearsome. His fists were held so tightly that his knuckles were white. His jaw was clenched brutally, as his malicious eyes shredded his target.
“Get out. And take that worthless baggage with you.” The raspy snarl was all that the other man needed to scramble into action. He rushed out into the snow, dragging his limp friend behind him.
When they were gone, Olivia told herself that she was fine, that she was strong like Isa, who could have dealt with any unwanted male attention with the force of a gale wind. Except, it wasn’t true. She started to tremble, and try as she might, she couldn’t keep the tears at bay. They fell from her eyes even though her expression hadn’t changed, and her gaze hadn’t yet moved from the closed door of the inn.
“Olivia?”
The soft, raspy voice and the gentle hand on her shoulder was her undoing. A sob escaped her chest, even though she hated that she was giving an ignorant bully like that the upper hand.
She turned and buried her face in Mr. Stone’s chest and shut her eyes tightly. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then she felt a gentle hand upon the crown of her head. “It’s all right now. You’re safe.” That made Olivia cry harder. She hadn’t felt safe in a very long time. Not since she had left Marlington Hall.
Her sisters would likely have been shocked to learn that even with their comforting presence, she had still been terribly out of sorts in a city like London, where pickpockets and thieves walked along the same streets as the aristocracy. She had gone to bed many nights, listening to the shouts of passerby and the rumble of carriage wheels over the cobblestones outside her window, and praying that she was back in the sanctity of the country where the occasional hoot of an owl was her solitary concern.
Strange, then, that she should be oddly content in this man’s arms. It was almost as if she…belongedthere.
“Let’s get you back upstairs,” he gently withdrew, although he kept an arm firmly around her shoulders as he steered her back to their rooms.
He led her over to a chair and grabbed the counterpane from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, and then he removed the bonnet she was still wearing and tossed it aside. That was when she realized she was shivering, even though she was still wearing her velvet gown and cloak from the ball. It was difficult to imagine that she had only just returned from such a merry event, to return and be assaulted by a ne’er-do-well intent on making mischief on a day meant for celebration.
He knelt in front of her. “I need to report this incident to Mrs. Evans. If they were staying here, she needs to know that they were seeking trouble.”
Olivia couldn’t help herself. She grasped on to his forearm. “You’re leaving me?”
His face softened and he lifted a hand and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I will only be gone momentarily. I’ll lock the door behind me. Rest assured, you will be fine.”
She reluctantly nodded. After all, she was a woman grown, not some child that needed constant coddling. She released him and tucked the blanket more securely around her.
It wasn’t until he was on his way out the door that she said after him, “Thank you, Mr. Stone, for your kind consideration, and for coming to my aid. I will ensure that the new Duke of Marlington is aware of your good character.”
He bowed to her, and then took his leave.
* * *
Miles clenchedhis fist as he headed back to the assembly rooms, all the while thinking what a despicable rotter he was for deceiving Lady Olivia. It was wrong to let her imagine he was a common man, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. Other than the nobility, he was not that far in line from the throne itself.
He scanned the area around him, white and silent, the landscape quite deceiving when he knew there was a worthless bounder out there. Miles wished that he would come upon the man who had attacked Lady Olivia, for he was spoiling for a good fight. That blow in the taproom wasn’t anything compared to what he’d wanted to do when it came to enacting his retribution, but he also wished to spare Lady Olivia that side of him. It wasn’t often that he reacted so violently, but the moment he’d seen that man’s hands on her and he realized she wasn’t a willing participant, nothing else had mattered except freeing her from his clutches.
The festivities were still quite energetic when he returned, although he ignored it all, intent on finding the innkeeper. He spied Mrs. Evans quickly enough and drew her to the side to explain the situation. As suspected, she was horrified to learn of the incident and insisted on returning to the inn with him to ensure that they didn’t darken her door again.
While he regretted having to disturb her enjoyment, she was quick to reassure him. “My inn doesn’t have an unsavory reputation and I wish to keep it that way. There will be more Christmastide events to celebrate, and I daresay my evening wasn’t as disturbed as poor, Mrs. Stone.” She patted his arm. “It’s a good thing she has such a champion in you to care for her.”
Miles had said nothing in return, for the knife of guilt was only twisting deeper in his gut. However, when he returned and unlocked the door to their rooms, it made his heart swell with pride when relief flashed across her face upon seeing him. She was equally surprised to see Mrs. Evans with him.
“Oh, my dear. Your husband told me what happened. I’m so terribly sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
