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A wave of disappointment crashed over her. Quickly, she shook it away. She was being very foolish indeed. Why would he follow her? Why would she even want him to? He was rude and brusque. Apart from being a stranger and having caught her out.
Olivia took a deep breath, trying to push the man and the strange encounter out of her mind entirely. That had been close. Too close. She really needed to take Emma’s advice and stop being reckless like this. What if she had run into someone she knew, who knew her grandfather? He would be furious with her. And she never wanted to hurt him.Ever.
***
Alexander gazed at the rider hurtling back down the path, scratching his head. The whole encounter had lasted probably five minutes at most. A most odd start to his early morning ride through Hyde Park.
He grinned to himself. The figure on the horse had startled him, careering around the corner through the mist, like one of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. It had taken a while to get his horse under control. When he had looked at the other rider again, he had been shocked.
He had assumed the rider was a boy. At least, the figure was dressed in boy’s clothing. Britches, shirt, and a cap. But suddenly, the cap fell off and a stream of black hair cascaded down. Long, silky curls reaching almost to the rider’s waist.
This was no boy. This was mostdefinitelya girl.
And then… he saw her face.
It was a perfect heart shape, wide across the cheeks and with a pointed chin. A flawless ivory complexion. Her eyes were ice blue, the colour of a frozen lake in winter, so pale that they almost looked translucent. They were eyes that seemed to pin him to the spot, making breathing very difficult indeed.
And then—just like that—she was gone.
He scratched his head again. All his senses were on high alert and the hairs on his arms were standing to attention. He felt like he had been struck by lightning.
Ruefully, he turned the horse around. He did not have time to pursue her, and in any case, she did not want to speak to him. He had to get back to his lodging house in London to get ready for his appointment at the solicitor’s office on Bond Street.
He was going to meet the mysterious Earl of Weaver today.
When theMary Elizabethhad finally docked in London, his curiosity had gotten the better of him about that letter. He had made his way to Merryman’s Solicitors. He had been ushered into an office and told that the Earl of Weaver himself was currently in London and if Alexander waited just a day or so, an appointment could be arranged between them. The solicitor had refused to elaborate about what it was all about.
Alexander had hesitated. Hereallywanted to get to the country to check on Lucy, his sister. But Oswald Merryman had pressed that it truly was a matter of urgency, and he would want to hear what this earl needed to say to him.
He had been intrigued enough to agree. And so here he still was.
Alexander pushed the horse to a canter. He really had not had time for this early morning ride through the park and that encounter had delayed him even more. His appointment with the Earl of Weaver was nine on the dot. And he did not want to miss the man, after prolonging his stay in London just for the purpose of speaking with him. He would feel like he had wasted his time entirely.
He left the park, heading towards the lodging house. His mind was full of the mysterious meeting and what it might be about. But suddenly, those ice blue eyes of the girl who had been pretending to be a boy appeared in his mind again. And her long, silky black curls.
He rarely felt such a strong, immediate jolt of attraction towards a woman. What a pity it was that he would never see her again in his life. Alexander shrugged philosophically. That was just the way of it sometimes.
Chapter 4
Alexander walked into the small office, taking off his hat. Mercifully, he was only slightly late. The same solicitor he had seen yesterday, Oswald Merryman, was seated behind his desk. The man was writing at a furious pace but put down his quill, smiling at him. There was no one else in the room.
“Ah, Captain Fletcher,” said the man. “Do take a seat. His Lordship will be here presently.”
Alexander nodded, gazing at the man. Oswald Merryman was large, with a portly physique and a high ruddy complexion as if he imbibed just a bit too much. They talked about the weather, Alexander’s recent journey to Spain, and several other small matters while they waited. The time stretched on. Alexander grew impatient.
He was just about to stand up and say that it must not be a matter of such grave urgency as suggested and he could no longer waste any more time when the door to the office opened, and an elderly gentleman stepped into the room.
The solicitor stood up, bowing. “Your Lordship.”
Alexander got to his feet, staring at the man who had just walked in. So, this was the Earl of Weaver, at long last. The gentleman was older than Alexander had pictured in his mind. Probably in his mid-sixties, with a slightly stooped gait, silver hair and a deeply lined face. The earl turned his attention to Alexander. The man’s eyes were pale blue and piercing as if he was summing him up.
“May I introduce Captain Alexander Fletcher,” said Mr Merryman.
“Your Lordship,” said Alexander, inclining his head. “I do not mean to rush you, but what exactly is the purpose of our business here today?”
To his surprise, the earl gave a bark of laughter. “Ithasbeen a bit mysterious, has it not? I apologise for that, Captain Fletcher. But I wanted to meet in person to explain it all. It might have been a bit too shocking written in a letter.”
Alexander raised his eyebrows. “I see. Well, let us get straight to it, shall we?” He knew he was being abrupt, and that earls and other nobles probably were not used to being pushed so much, but he could not help it. He was used to being in command and he really wanted to get on with it.
