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Lucian turns sideways, shifting the collar of his shirt. “No, it couldn’t wait. You might… uh… want to get dressed for this.”
Hissing, I lower my head. “And you’re about to be knocked flat on your face if you don’t leave this room right now.” My voice is deep and menacing.
“Okay. If you’re going to be stubborn about it. I thought you might want to know that Townes won’t be returning with your money,” he starts.
Olivia gasps behind me. My interest is piqued, sure, but I don’t want anything to ruin what’s happening between us tonight. However, I think that ship has already sailed. Her legs shiver against the side of my ribs.
Sighing, I scowl at Lucian. He’ll pay for this. “Why is that?” I ask, now that it’s clear Olivia can’t think about anything else but her father, and that’s quite the mood killer, to be fair.
“One of our men in Colderidge has just galloped on horseback toward us. They say he’s being held in jail tonight and will be transported to the asylum tomorrow. He’ll die there,” Lucian says.
Olivia shoves against my back and pulls her legs from beneath my arms. “No, no, no,” she says in a shaky breath. As I turn to look at her, she’s as pale as she can get, and she’s shivering.
“Olivia…” I start.
She throws her hand out at me. “No. You.” She points. “Stay away from me! You’re the reason… you’re the reason…” Hyperventilating, she clutches her chest and swallows hard before hurrying toward her dress. I take a glance in Lucian’s direction to make sure he’s not watching her as I come to my feet.
“Olivia…” I try again, but her eyes are wild; they even shake a bit with the rest of her body. As she connects with mine, hers fill with tears.
She wraps her hands around her body and looks between me and Lucian. “Please. Someone must take me to him. Someone must!” Her eyes bulge, and she wraps herself even tighter as if she’s shrinking away. She’s like a cornered animal up for slaughter, and my heart bleeds with the confession I’ve been dreading to make.
Hurrying across the floor to her, I open my arms but as soon as I get close to her, she pounds my chest with her fists. “No! Let me go! Let me go!” I wrap her in my arms despite her fighting, and she slides down my body, sinking toward the floor, wailing. “Please, Adam. Let me go. Release my father from this debt. Release me from being your prisoner so I can get back to my father, please.” She’s dangling in my arms, sinking each time I scoop her up.
Dropping to my knees along with her, I cup her face. She’s throwing her head from side to side, avoiding contact with my eyes and muttering unintelligible words as tears splash from her lips toward me. “Look at me, Olivia. Olivia, look at me!”
The words are shoved back inside my chest by the fear that once I confess this, she’ll never have a reason to stay with me again. But at the sight of her crumbling to fragile little pieces, I can’t think of protecting my ego, more than reassuring her. It’s like trying to push a donkey up a hill as I try to get past the block in my throat, but I force the words out. “You’re already free, Olivia. I made this decision that day after you came upon me in the forbidden room.”
She looks up at me as color rushes back to her cheeks. Still, she shakes her head as if there’s water clogging her ears. “What?” She shivers.
Letting go of her, I step away from her though it kills me to do so. “You’re free, Olivia. I can’t keep you here if you don’t want to stay.” Temptation urges me to take the words back, throw her over my shoulders, and take her back to the bedroom, locking her in there. She’d get over her father’s death eventually. I may even convince her to want me again but… sard it! Turning away from her, I growl at her before I change my mind. “You should go. Now.”
Picking up my breeches, I pull them on because the draft has become uncomfortable, and it gives me something to occupy my mind. Before I can step off, I’m struck by her presence wrapped around me. She squeezes her arms around my abdomen and kisses my back.
“Thank you. Thank you,” she says before running off and leaving me to storm upstairs, lock myself in the room, and give one of the servants the key with strict instructions not to let me out until morning when Olivia will already be long gone.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Olivia
Myheadisspinningwith what’s just happened. As the night wind whips through my hair and night dew moistens my skin, I can’t believe I’m free. It’s like I’m living in a fantasy. The reins beneath my hands, pulling at my flesh, remind me I’m not.
Adam gave orders for me to be transported by carriage, though he gave those orders to his men, not me. I left him in the ballroom, and he didn’t come outside to wish me farewell, which was a bit annoying since I had to be sending news to him through one of his men who kept running back and forth. Eventually, I was able to convince him that going by a single horse would be faster, and he agreed only if I allowed a few of his men to accompany me. It’s not safe for a lady to be riding through the woods on her own. It was hard to agree to that as I wondered whether this might have been a trick. That he’d made me believe that I was free, only to have them kill me on the journey to Colderidge.
So far, there’s no bullet in the back of my head, and I’m happier than ever that I agreed, especially with what almost happened to me when I was out in the woods on my own. The memory of not knowing my fate that night still burdens me. The horror of having those bastards pressing themselves against me, mocking me and laughing in my face still holds my breath captive. The image of those men being shot to death so matter of fact by Adam has never left. It flashes into my mind’s eye even now. The feeling I got after being brought to safety by him, it’s still present.
Shivering from the memory and being aware of the secrets the dark blanket of the night might hold, I press my feet gently into Lucky, the mare with whom I bonded. She and I are like kindred spirits. I knew I loved her when she challenged Adam.
She goes faster by my urging. Her galloping hooves are accompanied by the hooves of six horses carrying the armed men sent to protect me, and who also do an exceptional job at lighting my path with their lanterns.
We’ve been riding all night and as we arrive in Colderidge, the soft sunlight warms my face. My eyes aren’t weighed down, and there isn’t the slightest sense of tiredness in my bones. Determination is the only thing that consumes me as I ask for instructions to the jailhouse. Also, I’m still happy to report that there’s no bullet in the back of my head. Although, the men who played my bodyguards for the night were certainly grumpy by morning and left me alone as soon as we entered Colderidge to find an inn to lay their heads.
Women and men alike gawk at me and my attire as I race through the town with the wind attacking my brown mass of loose curly hair, leaving it frizzy, large, and tangled on top of my head. I hadn’t gotten time to even don my stays, and my breasts have ached, bouncing and jerking against my chest the entire ride here. When I heard that my father was given a death sentence, brushing out my sex hair, braiding it, and donning a suitable riding habit wasn’t high on my list of priorities, and it still isn’t. They can keep their judgement. Some people have dire problems and if they try to disgrace me for what I’m wearing, I’ll tell them just that.
Jumping off my horse, I run into the building where my father is being held. I’ve arrived just in time to see them shoving him, all beaten up, out the back door and toward the mobile jail cell for transport. “Papa!” I yell as my internal organs collapse. Forcing my feet forward, I launch myself at the contraption, banging on the bars.
“Olivia?” He spins around to look at me. “Olivia! My sweet child! You’re alive! You’re alive!” he sobs, clutching the bars as well and gripping my hands against it.
Nodding frantically, I smile as my tears wet the floor of his cage.
