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“Indeed,” he returned, and urged his horse into another canter.
* * *
Two hours later,Olivia dismounted and, along with Mr. Stone, handed their reins over to a stable lad. She was so chilled that she wasn’t sure she would ever thaw, but she refused to complain after her companion had been so thoughtful in taking extra care to see that she was warm for the journey. In truth, there wouldn’t ever be enough layers to make her cease feeling the cold, because the icy water would forever be burned into her memory.
However, as she walked into the local inn, she searched for a table closest to the cheery fire burning in the hearth. She set aside her fur muff and removed her gloves to hold her stiff fingers in front of the blessed heat.
“Can I get ye anythin’, luv?” The serving maid was addressing Mr. Stone, who had taken a seat across from Olivia, but he ignored her appraising glance with a particular scowl.
“I think an ale for my wife and myself wouldn’t come amiss,” he returned bluntly. “And your finest meal.”
Olivia saw the maid blanch, and then swallow nervously, as if she was in the presence of King George IV himself. “Of… course, sir. Right away.”
As she scurried away, Olivia glared at him. “Was it necessary to be so cool to her?” She straightened her shoulders as she reluctantly moved away from the fire.
He adopted a bored expression that would have been perfectly aristocratic if he had been born to the role. “I see no reason to engage in friendly conversation when we are here for a purpose.” He lifted a dark brow. “Unless you don’t wish to make it to Marlington Hall before nightfall?”
She glanced away, lest he see her hesitation. “Naturally, I wish to make haste, but I don’t believe it should be at the expense of another’s upset.”
Olivia heard him sigh heavily, and then mutter something under his breath about ‘impossible women,’ but before she could take insult to that, the serving maid returned with their drinks. Her hand trembled as she set the mugs on the table, causing some of the liquid to slosh over the side. “Oh, I do beg yer pardon, sir.” She lifted her apron and began to wipe up the mess. “I’ll get tha’ cleaned straightaway, I will.”
Mr. Stone halted her movements with a hand on her wrist. “It’s fine. There’s no harm done.” Olivia saw him try to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace, but she commended him for making an attempt to put her at ease.
The maid’s cheeks instantly reddened, and the sparkle of admiration returned to her gaze. “Thank ye, sir. Ye’re most kind.” Her focus shifted to Olivia and some of her cheerfulness dissipated as she disappeared once more.
When they were alone once again, Mr. Stone looked at her expectantly.
Olivia laughed as she lifted the mug to her lips, and while she wasn’t a particular fan of the bitter taste of ale, she was grateful for the warmth it caused as it began to flow through her veins. “Very nicely done,” she praised. “You might even be in danger of becoming a good man.”
He snorted, but his eyes softened, and Olivia found that the ale was no longer responsible for the heat beginning to stir inside her body.
Shortly thereafter they were served a meal of ham, boiled potatoes, and bread. While it wasn’t the best fare Olivia had ever consumed, she was grateful for it, as it went far to restore her. By the time she was finished, Mr. Stone set down his empty mug. “I believe I might have enough motivation to complete our journey now,” he murmured. “If nothing else, I shall look forward to a decent supper at the estate.”
Olivia nodded. “My father always employed an exemplary cook.” She paused, because she didn’t even know if Mr. Niason was still there, or if he had already been let go. “But I can’t say who the new duke has chosen.” She pushed aside the rest of her ale, and wished she hadn’t consumed all of her luncheon, as now it set as heavy as a stone in the pit of her stomach.
“I doubt much has changed in your absence,” Mr. Stone said.
“Perhaps,” she returned, although she wasn’t sure she believed him. She had witnessed more than one estate completely altered from its original state once the new master took possession, not a single thing remaining from the servants to the wallpaper. She feared the same would be true for Marlington Hall, and yet, while it wouldn’t look like home, it would surely still feel like it. If not, that would be a problem, because London certainly didn’t feel like home either.
So then, where would she truly belong?
Pushing aside her reservations, Olivia got to her feet. She gathered her gloves and slipped them back on. “Shall we continue?”
Mr. Stone hesitated, and then he stood and repeated the same sentiments he’d spoken before. “I’m your servant, my lady.”
Chapter Eight
Dusk was just starting to fall, along with the temperatures, by the time they reached Marlington Hall. Situated down a long and twisting drive, beyond a copse of elm and birch trees and a slight hill, stood the three story, limestone structure. It stood proudly in the middle of the snow-covered landscape like something out of a novel. The moment it came into view, Olivia’s throat tightened at the familiar sight, and she yearned to jump from the horse and run through the front door, straight up to her room and throw herself on her bed—until she remembered that her four-poster had been removed to London.
She sighed, but then she recalled that there was still plenty of beds in the house that could easily be moved around so that she could sleep in the familiar surroundings of her chamber, the one she’d occupied since she was old enough to come down from the nursery.
Her heart started to pound as they paused before the front door and dismounted. They handed their mounts over to a groom, who wasn’t familiar to Olivia, but she told herself not to panic, as the last time she’d been here she recalled that the previous groom was looking for a new position closer to his family on the coast.
It wasn’t until the front door opened that her pulse fluttered—and then she spied a familiar face. Instantly, relief flooded through her as she greeted the elder butler warmly. She had never been more thankful to see the smoothly kept white-haired man with his usual pristine appearance. “Edgerton!”
He blinked, as if surprised to see her, and then he bowed respectfully, careful to keep his careful and proper reserve. “Lady Olivia, what a pleasure to see you here.” He glanced behind her and frowned slightly at the empty road. “I’m surprised to find your sisters haven’t accompanied you.”
“I came alone,” she hedged, hoping that he would leave it at that. And since he was a loyal servant, she had no doubt that any discussion would be taking place downstairs where she didn’t have to answer any uncomfortable questions. She turned to the man standing silently beside her. “This is Mr. Stone. He is the new estate manager for the… new Duke of Marlington.” She nearly choked on the title, because she still couldn’t quite picture anyone else in the role that her father had held.
