She swallowed, and while she wasn’t eager to remain alone on the side of the road, she knew there was little else to be done. “I understand.”
He reached for one of the mares and started to untie her from the hackney. “I promise I’ll return as soon as—” He frowned as the sound of a horse’s nicker caught his attention. “Praise be t’ th’ Lord,” he muttered. “There’s another foolish traveler out ’n this wretched weather.”
He walked toward the sound while Olivia kept her attention on the horses, continuing to whisper soothing compliments in their ears.
The coachman returned a short time later and said, “Th’ gentleman ‘as agreed t’ assist. Let’s get these girls movin’!” He quickly disappeared around the other side of the vehicle, where Olivia assumed the newcomer was already in position.
She waited anxiously for the count of three, and when she heard it, she used everything that she had left to coerce the mares to pull even harder than before. The carriage creaked and groaned as it started to move forward, until finally, it caught solid ground and was level once more.
Olivia exhaled heavily and closed her eyes in relief as she leaned against the neck of one of the horses. The snowflakes tickled her nose and eyelashes, but it was a welcome relief to the strain they had all just been under.
She was so exhausted that it took her a moment before awareness took over and she realized that she was no longer alone. She opened her eyes to find a towering figure standing directly before her.
She jerked in alarm, but then his smooth, raspy voice broke through her fright. “It’s not a very nice evening to be traveling, Lady Olivia.” His dark brows descended into a concerned, and most assuredly, disapproving slash over his equally dark eyes. His hair was pulled back in a queue beneath his hat and as dark as the midnight sky. His shoulders looked impossibly broad in his finely tailored greatcoat and tall, black Hessians covered his feet. “I would ask where your sisters are, but considering you are traveling alone, I have the feeling they don’t know you have left London, so that merely begs the question—” He lifted one of those intimidating brows. “What exactly are you going, my lady?”
Olivia’s eyes widened and she could feel the blood as it receded from her face. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her as she faced off with this man, the blanket lost somewhere in the carriage. “Whoareyou?”
* * *
Miles Stone,the Duke of Gravesend, would have been offended if he’d been a man who cared about anything anymore. After his injuries in Waterloo when he’d been nineteen, which resulted in a scar across his throat that had nearly made it impossible for him to speak, he found that certain things in life that used to annoy him no longer affected him. His mother would claim that he was more inclined to brood than before, but it wasn’t even that. He just didn’t want to be there. In England, or anywhere in the world.
Nothing mattered.
The only time in recent years that his chest had offered more than a dull ache had been when he’d saved the woman standing in front of him from certain death. She’d been ice skating on the Thames but got a little too close to the shallow end where it wasn’t as thick. The sickening crack of the pond giving way, followed by the sight of her bonnet disappearing beneath had struck a fear in him that hadn’t even been present on the battlefield. He had quickly whisked her away to the only physician he trusted and paced the floor of his townhouse until he’d received word that she had recovered. The relief that had flooded through him had been the most emotion he’d shown in almost ten years.
And she didn’t even remember him.
But perhaps it was for the best. He wasn’t fit to try to love anyone, nor was he a proper candidate for marriage. While his mother had done her best to bring him back into society, his self-imposed convalescence had begun to call to him and he’d been forced to heed the call.
He hadn’t given in to the duchess’ tears when she’d begged him to stay for the Christmas ball that she’d planned in his honor. She likely thought him a heartless arsehole when he didn’t make an appearance, but he couldn’t very well tell her the truth. That he hadn’t intended to depart, but when his palms had started to sweat and his cravat started to choke him, he knew that he couldn’t endure it, not even for her sake. He couldn’t risk being made a fool of when his throat didn’t want to form the proper words in polite conversation.
Besides, while a lady might enjoy holding the title of a duchess if he were to dare wed, who would want to endure a madman as a husband the rest of their days? Nothing would ever erase the horrors he’d endured during the war. Nor would it help him to sleep better when the nightmares intruded on his slumber.
Thus, he was sparing himself, and anyone else, the eventual disappointment, and departing before any ladies could pin him with those hopeful glances.
Now, as he stood in the blowing snow and cold and regarded the woman in front of him with her sunshine-colored hair on such a dreary winter night and looked into those expressive green eyes that sparked with youth and a touch of fear, he realized he couldn’t tell her who hereallywas. If she was running away, as he imagined was the case, he couldn’t claim he was the Duke of Gravesend without frightening her even more, believing that he would haul her back to London. Apparently, there was a reason she was so determined to set out on such a night.
He just had to figure out what it was.
“My name is Miles Stone,” he offered with a slight bow. “I was an estate manager to the Earl of Somers.”
Instantly, her gaze flashed with recognition, and he applauded his quick thinking. “I am well acquainted with the earl. I believe that he should soon be betrothed to my sister, Araminta. I’m sorry I don’t recall you, Mr. Stone.”
Miles forced a smile. “There’s no harm done, my lady. Servants and the gentry are often overlooked.”
Her expression softened even further. “Yes, they are, although you do not comport yourself as either, but rather a nobleman.” She shivered in her cloak, and he immediately took note.
“You’re cold.” He reached forward and put an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened slightly and then relaxed into his embrace. He enjoyed that small moment of victory more than he should have. “Where are you headed? Perhaps I might accompany you. That is, if you don’t mind a bit of company.”
He could sense the indecision warring within her, but as the daughter of a duke, she was too proper to refuse. But instead of denying his request outright, she said, “I’m headed to Marlington Hall in Canterbury. It was my father’s estate.”
“Indeed?” he murmured, knowing it all too well. “How fortuitous, for that is where I was traveling as well.”
“You were?”
“Yes.” At least it wasn’t a lie. “I was hired as the new estate manager to the Duke of Marlington’s heir.”Thatwas the untruth, forhewas actually the new heir.
While he’d left London with the determination to return to Gravesend Manor, he had made a last-minute detour, deciding that Kent was closer than his estate in Oxford. Since it was expected of him to inspect the property and assume the duties of aseconddukedom, he decided it would be the perfect excuse for a recluse to escape to for a time, to get things in order. While it was rare a man could inherit two dukedoms at once, it wasn’t completely unheard of. The Cavendish family with the Devonshire title was one example.