Tempting The Earl by Rachael Miles

Author:Rachael Miles
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2016-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

When they reached the stable yard, a wagon was already loaded with three large baskets and a pile of woolen blankets. Olivia inspected the baskets, while a ruddy-faced man adjusted the saddles. Missing something she wanted, Olivia sent a groom back to the house.

“Mr. Davis rarely asks for help. I don’t know what to expect, but I know it will be serious.”

“You are going yourself? Why take such a risk?”

“I am not high-born, my lord. My own health is of little consequence to me if I preserve it by refusing to help those in need. However, we do not know what illness plagues them, and I would understand if you wished to remain here.”

“I lived through the wars, Olivia. What have I not seen?”

“But you must consider the good of the estate, whereas I am the last of my line. Once I leave the abbey, if I die, no one will notice, and no one will be inconvenienced.”

The sadness and truth of her sentiment struck him profoundly. He too was the last of his line, and he’d felt a similar recklessness.

“Even if I have inherited this”—he extended his hand to the abbey—“we are alike in that. No one will much regret my passing.”

Something indecipherable flickered in her eyes, and he started to say more. But the stable master joined them.

“All’s ready, Miss Livvy.” Calder looked Harrison over suspiciously. “Would you like one of the grooms to escort him back to the house?”

“No, Mr. MacHus will be going along.”

“Of course, Miss Livvy.” The ruddy-faced man helped Olivia onto the wagon.

When she lifted the reins, Harrison was startled. He had not expected Olivia to drive herself.

He pulled himself up beside her. When she saw he was seated, she pulled from the yard with a speed that surprised him.

“So fast?” His words were lost in the rumbling of the wagon on the road.

She guided the rig skillfully, if terrifyingly fast. None of the young rakes who raced their curricles around Hyde Park could approach her in either daring or expertise. Even at the curves where he had to hold on to his seat to remain in place, she never lost control of the wagon or the horses.

Almost an hour later, she pulled the wagon to a stop.

The cottage was barely habitable. A large tree limb had fallen on the roof, caving it in at the corner. Two windows were filled with dirt and stone to block the winter air. Before he could stop her, Olivia jumped to the ground.

“This isn’t my land.” Harrison looked around with relief.

“No, your neighbor, Lord Heron, has been running this estate into the ground for almost a decade.”

“But if it isn’t my land, then these are not my people.” He jumped down beside her.

She looked at him with one eyebrow raised and walked to the back of the wagon.

He followed. “Of course we will help. I only meant that Heron is responsible for his cottagers’ well-being. This level of disrepair is criminal.”

“It’s a responsibility he has grown accustomed to shirking.

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