Page 10 of An Innocent Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

She was interrupted by a humorless chuckle. “That is highly unlikely.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “My mount might be able to make the journey, but any of those nags you could borrow from the inn’s stables wouldn’t last two hours in this deep snow. They are too old to make such a harrowing journey.”

She blinked. “So, you’re saying that we’re stuck here?”

“It would appear so,” he said tightly.

She dropped her focus to her plate and although she attempted to regain her appetite, it had vanished just thinking of enduring such forced proximity to Mr. Stone for another night—perhaps more. She pushed some of the fare around with her fork before she finally pushed it away. “This is a disaster,” she sighed.

He snorted as he took another long draught from the mug. “At least you can take comfort in the fact we’re not alone. Many of us will be celebrating Christmas Day here. All we can do is make the best of it.”

* * *

Miles hated seeingthe dejected look on Lady Olivia’s face. It was obvious she was disappointed that they couldn’t continue on to Marlington Hall. And to be honest, so was he. Just the thought of sleeping next to her for another night—or more—nearly made him groan. He wasn’t sure he could survive the torment.

Last night he’d nearly made a terrible error in judgement, one that would have likely sent her out into the midst of the snow without a second thought, just to escape him. Not because he was cruel or unkind, but because there had been an instant between them that had jarred them both. He’d felt the attraction course through his body like a fever, and he could still feel the aftereffects this morning. His cock had been throbbing and urgent the minute he’d woke, because he’d made the mistake of turning his head and staring at the woman lying beside him. She had been so peaceful and entirely too…beautiful, that he’d had to leave the room, or else do something he would later regret.

Like waking her with a kiss.

He had been so close to doing so already that it was going to take all of his self-control when it came to keeping his distance.

“I suppose you’re right.”

The despondency in her voice cut him to the quick. He couldn’t allow her only memory of him to coincide with the worst holiday of her life. He was starting to realize that her lack of recollection of him after her fall through the Thames was a good thing. He certainly didn’t wish to be known as a bad luck omen. “Did you celebrate anything special on Christmas with your sisters?”

He watched as she considered his query, and then she offered a tentative smile. “We would generally exchange gifts, of course, but in the evening we would amuse ourselves with parlor games and hot chocolate.”

He pictured the cozy scene and a stab of longing shot through his chest. He didn’t have any siblings, so most holidays were generally filled with more instruction on how to be a duke. That was why, after his father had passed, Miles had joined the military in the hopes that he might become something more honorable than just a man who possessed a birthright. He had chased glory, and in the end, nearly paid for it with his life. But at least he could finally say he’d earned the gifts he’d been granted upon his arrival in the world, rather than allowing fate to absorb all the recognition.

Turning his focus back to Lady Olivia, he asked, “Did you have a favorite game?”

Her cheeks turned a charming shade of pink. “Spillkins.”

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Mine too.”

“You’re lying.” She laughed, and the sound shot straight to his groin.

He shifted in his seat. “Actually, I’m not. I didn’t care to make a fool out of myself playing charades, and spillkins actually made sense to me.” He shrugged. “I suppose I thought it had some sort of objective, whereas so many others lacked any sort of strategic planning.”

This time, it was her lips that twitched. “Spoken like a true, military man.”

He inclined his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He tapped a finger thoughtfully against the side of his mug and said somberly, “I fought alongside many brave men willing to give their lives for England. There aren’t many people who will recall the sacrifices made by so many, as I fear most will only remember Wellington and Nelson. I won’t say that they weren’t fine men in their own right, because they were. Both were geniuses when it came to warfare, but when the Admiral was presented with a special sword with a crocodile grip by the Captains of the Fleet after the victory at the Battle of the Nile in 1798, I had to wonder about the men under his command who were killed. I doubt their families received such a distinguished recognition.”

He gave a heavy sigh, and then blinked, realizing that he had turned a festive occasion into a dreary recollection. But then, that was part of his failing as a brooding duke. However, it was best that Lady Olivia learned the harshness of his character now, especially if she meant to take up roots at Marlington Hall once more. She would find that he wasn’t a friend with whom she could share a confidence. He’d opened up to her more in the past two days than he had anyone else the years after he’d returned from the battlefield. Even his mother hadn’t been privy to his moments of vulnerability, as they were few and far between.

He wasn’t sure why he’d suddenly become so chatty with his lovely companion, but rest assured, it wouldn’t last. His mind kept him in chains from the past, and since they would drag down anyone else that came close, he chose to keep a safe distance with others. Once they weren’t forced to share such close quarters, no doubt these detailed conversations would cease.

He dared to look at her now, and while he had expected to see boredom, or perhaps disgust on her face, he was surprised to find that her green eyes were shining with moisture.

“I can tell their lives meant a great deal to you,” she whispered. “And while they may not receive the respect they are due, at least you are able to honor their memories in here—” She pressed a fist to her chest, directly over her heart. “—and that is more commendable than any sword crafted out of metal.”

With a single statement, Miles could feel something stirring within him, the feeling of life renewed, a sensation that he’d thought he’d long buried and couldn’t be restored.

Especially after what had happened with Marian.

It scared him, and while he knew he would regret it later, he couldn’t allow anything to disturb the darkness that had taken hold of his heart. To do so meant that he was opening himself up to be wounded as surely as he’d been cut and left for dead by the enemy’s sword.

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