Page 92 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
She’d had a dream she was falling…
Where was she? Not in her bed. It was far too warm and comfortable. Quiet, too, without the usual shouts and curses from the street below, and not even a hint of the dusty smell of damp and mildew that always assaulted her upon waking.
Instead it smelled divine, like vanilla and cedar with a touch of citrus. Dinah’s nose twitched with pleasure as she inhaled the familiar scent. It was J Floris’sMalmaison—she’d know it anywhere, because it reminded her of—
Oliver.
Yes, of course. She remembered now. She’d gone to Mayfair yesterday morning to fetch Oliver, he’d come down looking as if he’d been trampled by a horse, and the next thing she knew, she’d agreed to go to Cliff’s Edge with him. They were in the coach on their way there now.
She wasn’t sure how he’d talked her into it, but then Oliver was very, very good at coaxing. He could wheedle the feathers from a bird, the cream from a cat—
“Shall I return you to your seat, or would you prefer to remain where you are?” A husky voice rumbled nearby, and soft breath tickled her ear. “You’re quite welcome to stay.”
Stay? Yes, perhaps she would. She quite liked it here. Something warm and solid was wrapped around her, and her cheek was resting on a pillow of fresh linen. She tilted her head back and saw a white cravat tied neatly under a strong, angular jaw shaded with a faint trace of bristly black hair.
Black hair? What—
Dinah’s eyes snapped wide open, the last vestiges of sleep evaporating. She wasn’t just in the coach with Oliver—she was on hislap—and her cheek wasn’t resting on a pillow—it was resting on hischest.
Dinah leapt free of his arms as if her skirts had caught fire. She shot him a baleful look once she was safely on her side of the carriage, but Oliver only gave her an innocent grin. “I beg your pardon. We had a bit of a jolt. I was obliged to catch you before you tumbled off your seat.”
“I see. Were you obliged to wrap your arms around me, too?”
“I thought you might be cold. You were shivering,” Oliver replied, looking affronted.
Dinah pinched her lips together. For a gentleman who was so frequently up to mischief, he certainly managed to look incredulous when he was accused of it. “Why have we stopped?”
She peered out her window. It was later than she’d expected—well into the afternoon already, and a light snow was drifting down from the sky.
“The coachman was obliged to stop for a rather stubborn herd of cows who insisted upon taking up the whole of the passable bit of the road.”
Dinah frowned. “I don’t see any cows.”
“Well, no. Not anymore. They’ve gone on their way, but Rundell & Bridge aren’t fond of cows, and they don’t care for this coachman. They’re refusing to go.” Oliver’s head coachman had been given leave to visit his family for the holidays, so they had a hired coachman on the box.
“Rundell and Bridge? You named your horses after the London jewelers?”
“Yes, because they’re as perfect as a matched set of pearls. Now the cows have cleared off, I daresay we’ll be on our way as soon as the horses are over their fit of temper.”
Dinah glanced out the window again. They should be near Chelmsford by now, but the road didn’t look familiar. “Where are we? I don’t recognize this road.”
“We’re in Plumstead.” Oliver grinned with delight, as if Plumstead were the only place in the world anyone would care to be on a snowy afternoon in December.
“Plumstead? Cliff’s Edge is inEssex, Oliver. What are we doing inKent?”
“Alistair Rutherford lives in Kent,” Oliver said, as if this explained everything.
Dinah stared at him. “I’m pleased for Alistair Rutherford, but what arewedoing here?”
Oliver sighed, as if she were being very troublesome. “Rutherford’s Scottish, you see—from Bowmore. He fetched a cask of whisky for me last time he was there, and I’ve come to collect it.”
“You couldn’t secure a cask of whisky in London?”
“Not Rutherford’s whisky, and his is the best. It’s a Christmas gift for Christopher. Do you think he’ll like it?”
Lord Christopher had a bit of a wild streak, just like his two elder brothers. Lord Christopher with a cask of whisky at his disposal was sure to lead to a debacle. “I think he’ll be delighted with it. Whether Lord Archer will think it’s as delightful is less certain.”
“I’ve arranged for gifts for everyone.” Oliver stretched his long legs out in front of him and leaned back against the squabs with a comfortable grunt, the tips of his boots brushing her hems.
