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Rescued

By Sara Nicole

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The sun broke over the horizon, flashing its golden light with sudden brilliance. Olivia smiled to see the dewdrops light up and sparkle. She was thankful for her knee-high boots to keep her feet and lower legs dry as she slipped into the forest. Her dark cloak snagged on a bush, and she pulled it tighter about herself. The early morning’s chill reddened her cheeks and her nose, but her shoulder-length brown hair - only partially tied back - kept her ears protected.
The world was new and fresh, smiling as darkness retreated. She inhaled deeply the early morning smell. There was nothing else like it. She smiled at the birds singing their hearts out in greeting to the dawn. It was a perfect day.
It was all the more perfect because she was alone. After two weeks of every suitor in the land - it seemed - coming to ask for her hand in marriage… She shook her head. She was not going to think of that and ruin her perfect morning.
Her mother and father had finally realized that if they did not allow her a day of freedom and space, she was going to do something that they would never live down. That thought made Olivia smirk. She had not yet decided what she would have done, but it certainly would have been something to terrorize her suitors. Growing up with three older brothers had given her an excellent repertoire of pranks from which to choose. Luckily for her suitors, Father and Mother had given her permission to disappear into the woods for the day.
She closed her grey-blue eyes for a moment and enjoyed the still solitude. No servants bustling about. No guards. No maids waiting on her and hounding her steps. No expensive dresses. No elaborate hairstyles. No etiquette. No protocol. No forced smiles. And no men!
Now, she loved her father and her three brothers, but even they would be unwelcome on this day. She was completely sick of the male side of the species for the moment.
A beautiful doe stepped soundlessly into sight. Olivia froze and smiled. Yes, this was a perfect morning. Two fawns, young enough to be speckled, followed their mother, and Olivia’s smile grew. She silently scanned the surrounding trees to see if there were any other deer lurking in the shadows. A furtive movement caught her eye, and she squinted…
It was a man! Of all things! He was not bad-looking as far as men went. He looked well-proportioned and strong. He too wore a dark cloak against the chill and tall boots, and he had a quiver of arrows slung across his back. She scowled more darkly when she saw the man’s ready bow and arrow. He was aiming at the doe with the fawns. He was going to ruin her perfect morning!
A gleam came into Olivia’s eye. Not if she could help it.

***

Peter held completely still as he focused on the doe. A wave of excitement swelled within him, but he quelled it. He had not had a real meal in three days, and he could practically smell the venison cooking.
He had a perfect shot. The doe raised her head from grazing, and he aimed straight for her heart. A slight smile turned up the corner of his lips as he prepared to release the arrow. This was going to be a good morning.
There was movement and noise, and the deer startled. Peter quickly let fly his arrow, but it was too late. The doe and her fawns bounded out of sight. His arrow stuck harmlessly into a tree.
Grumbling to himself and cursing his bad luck, Peter went to retrieve his arrow from the tree. His stomach growled louder than his tongue. Berries and roots were not nearly enough to satisfy a solid man like himself; he wanted a real meat dinner.
He reached the tree and tugged on his arrow. It stuck fast. Snarling, he tugged harder. It did not budge. Thoroughly vexed now, Peter jerked the arrow hard, and it snapped off in his hand. Perfect.
The unpleasant sound of mocking laughter made him quickly look left. He was surprised to see a young lady watching him from across the way. He could tell by her bearing and manner that she was a lady, although her laughter was very unladylike. He frowned. She was not dressed like a lady, either. She wore pants like a man and a plain shirt underneath her cloak.
Many rude retorts filled Peter’s mind, but he stopped them, reminding himself whether she acted like it or not, a lady was a lady. He gave a stiff bow. “Good morning, lady,” he greeted gruffly.
The lady did not curtsy back nor return his greeting. “It was a good morning,” she rebuked, “until you intruded on the solitude and tried to murder the scenery.”
Peter bit his tongue hard. When he was sure he had control over what words he would speak, he replied, “Forgive me, lady. I will leave you to enjoy your solitude in peace.”
Congratulating himself on his manners and thinking of how proud his mother would have been of his self-restraint, Peter gave another stiff bow and turned his back on the lady. He did not go far before she shouted, “Wait!”
Gritting his teeth, Peter paused. He heard her hurrying to catch up with him, and he turned to face her. She was older than he had first thought. First impressions had not been kind; he had expected her to be fifteen or so. She looked to be eighteen at least. If he had not been so annoyed with her, he would have found her to be pretty. However, he suspected she was spoiled, and that ruined any woman’s good features, no matter how beautiful.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Hunting, my lady,” he answered shortly.
“Don’t you know these are the baron’s lands?”
Peter shook his head once. “I was unaware. Thank you for informing me. I will get off his lands as soon as possible.” He gave a very short bow. “Good day, my lady.” He turned once more to leave.
“Why do you keep calling me that?” the lady asked angrily.
Peter sighed and turned back to her. “You are a lady, are you not?” He could tell by her scowl that he was right.
“How could you tell?”
Peter quirked an eyebrow. “You hold yourself and move like a woman of standing, my lady.” He hesitated a beat before adding, “And you have no hesitation in giving orders.” His mother would have scolded him for that last remark, but he could not help it. Too bad the young lady did not act like a true lady. It was a pity to see beauty spoiled by self-importance and contempt for lesser persons.
The young lady’s eyes flashed. “Why were you trying to hunt in the baron’s woods?”
Peter held still and did not shift his feet or sigh in irritation like he longed to do. Instead, he answered civilly, “As I mentioned before, I was unaware that these are the baron’s lands. And a man has to eat.”
The lady did not seem to have an answer to that.
So Peter continued, “By your leave, my lady, I will now remove my unwanted presence from the baron’s lands and hunt elsewhere.” He gave one last curt bow and strode hastily away, hoping to get out of earshot before she could think of any more questions to delay him. He gripped the broken arrow’s shaft tightly, the only visible expression of his aggravation. He made it several paces away, and he began to hope that she would really let him go this time.
Then she cried out, “Stop!” Closing his eyes briefly and clenching his teeth, Peter obeyed. “I have not dismissed you!” the lady exclaimed hotly.
Peter’s cheeks flushed in anger as he turned one last time to face the lady. He knew he was gazing at her coldly, but he did nothing to temper his expression. “What is it you want of me, my lady?”
The lady laughed scornfully. “Want of you?” she repeated. “I wonder what it is you think you could possibly offer me? Why is that all men think they have to offer women their services? I am perfectly fine without them, I assure you!”
Peter’s eyes narrowed, but all he said was, “I am happy for you.” He gave a low bow and looked at her. “May I have your permission to excuse myself, my lady?”
“No!” she shouted, and his teeth clenched all the tighter. “What are you doing in these woods, anyway?” she demanded again. Before he could repeat his answer, she continued, ranting, “Why must men always intrude themselves? You’re all alike! You show up where you’re not wanted, disturb the peace and beauty, and try to take over everything! You were going to kill the doe! She had never done anything to you; I’m glad I chased her away!”
Peter’s eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously. The fingers still holding the broken arrow shaft tightened their grip until his knuckles turned white.
But the lady was not done. “You men walk around like you own the entire world! It was a perfect morning until you showed up!”
She would have gone on, but Peter finally lost his temper. “Enough!” he interrupted. She gasped and opened her mouth to rebuke him, but he continued, “Look, lady, I don’t know what has you upset at all mankind, but I’m quite sure it has very little to do with me. I was in these woods because I’m hungry and am hunting for food. I’ve had little but berries and roots for the last three days, and you’ve just scared away the first real game that I’ve seen in a week. You’ve made it quite clear that my presence is disagreeable to you, yet you refuse to let me leave. Well, I’m not going to stand here and be your scapegoat for all the offenses of my sex!”
“Scoundrel!” the lady exclaimed furiously.
Peter shook his finger disapprovingly. “You’re not one to be name-calling, my lady. From what I’ve seen of you this morning - which is far more than I desired, I assure you! - you’re a woman of good breeding who thinks that her bloodline makes her superior to all others. Very likely, you are used to getting your own way, and therefore you expect it. A true lady is a woman of compassion and gratitude, but I’ve seen neither of these in you. In short, my lady, you are spoiled and in need of a good spanking.” Peter twirled the arrow shaft in his hand. “In fact, I’m rather inclined to give you one right here and now!”
The lady’s eyes had been wide through his tirade, and she gasped at his last statement. “You wouldn’t dare!” Fear flickered in the midst of the anger in her eyes.
That sounded like a challenge to Peter, and he took a step toward her.
Quick as a blink, the lady bolted to a nearby tree and swung herself up into it. She soon disappeared into the branches. Startled, Peter ran to the tree and gazed up at it. He was shocked to see how high she had climbed so quickly. And she was still climbing, scrambling up the tree like a squirrel. Soon she was very high, and he grew worried.
“My lady, stop!” he called. “Come back down!”
“Not on your life!” she shouted back. “You get away from me!”
“My lady, please!” he urged. “It isn’t safe up there!”
“Ha!” she mocked. “Safer than down there with you!” Then anger filled her tone. “And I can take care of myself! I’m not a child!”
“Then stop acting like one,” Peter muttered under his breath, still watching the lady’s ascent. “Look!” he called finally. He tossed aside the arrow shaft. “I won’t harm you, I promise. I won’t touch a hair on your head. Now please, won’t you come back down?”
“I’ll come down when you leave!” the lady cried.
Peter clenched his fists. He could not in good conscience leave the lady up in the tree. What if a branch broke and she fell? Grinding his teeth, he said at last, “Lady, if you do not come down, I will come up there and get you myself!”
“You stay away from me!” she shrieked.
“I give you my word of honor that if you come down now, I will not touch you or harm you in any way,” Peter swore. “But I also give you my word of honor, that if you don’t get down here right now, I’ll get you out of that tree if I have to drag you out!” Or shoot her out. What a tempting thought.
There was a pause. Then, “You swear you won’t hurt me?”
“I swear it.”
The lady peeked down at him from the high branches of the tree. “And you won’t spank me?”
Already regretting his promise, Peter answered, “I swear.”
There was another pause, and Peter gazed up at the lady impatiently. Then she began to climb down.
He stayed beneath the tree during her descent, moving aside only when she swung herself gracefully to the ground. He stared at her, unable to decide if he was angry or amazed. He had never expected her to climb the tree, and he had seen few people climb like that. She moved like a woodland creature.
Now that she was on the ground, he had no idea what to say to her. She did not have that problem. “What is your name?” she asked.
Peter dipped his head. “I am Peter, son of Isaac the carpenter.”
“From what town or village are you?” the lady asked.
“I am from Denville, my lady.” Since she had not introduced herself when he did, Peter asked, “And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
The lady drew herself up. “I am Olivia.” She did not say anything more, but reached her hand out to him.
Peter took Lady Olivia’s hand and bowed over it. “Lady Olivia of the House of?” he prompted.
She sighed in exasperation. “Lady Olivia of the House of Thomas.”
Peter’s eyes widened, and he suddenly had a hard time breathing. He held Lady Olivia’s hand as if to kiss it, but he dared not press his lips to her skin. She withdrew her hand, and he straightened. He stood in a respectful attitude now, fully aware of the penalties her father could bring on his head if it became known that he had threatened her. The House of Thomas! No wonder she was spoiled.
Peter swallowed hard. Baron Thomas could have him beaten if he knew Peter had frightened his daughter. Or worse. He could be put in the stocks… whipped… forced to work on the trading ships… The options whirled through Peter’s mind, growing worse with each turn. Lady Olivia’s father could do just about anything he wanted to Peter short of executing him.

***

Olivia watched Peter’s face pale, and it gave her an enormous sense of satisfaction. Let him dare to threaten her again! She did not say anything for a moment. She just watched the woodsman’s face and enjoyed the sickened expression that swept over it.
“Do you take back what you said?” Olivia asked, smirking.
Peter’s face hardened. “I do not.”
Olivia was shocked. She spluttered for a moment, then she put her fists on her hips and scowled at him. “Don’t you know Baron Thomas?” she demanded.
She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “I have heard of him,” Peter admitted.
“And do you not fear him?”
Peter was quiet. Olivia narrowed her eyes and studied him. He was younger than she had supposed. He could not be more than a couple years older than herself. He was obviously used to living off of the land; his muscles were hard and lean, and there was little fat to be found on his body. His light brown eyes were sharp and observant, no doubt skilled in spotting game from distances, and his fingers bore callouses from wielding his bow. A hunting knife was strapped to his hip. He had dirt and a leaf in his ragged, dark brown hair.
His voice was soft when he spoke, but it distracted her from her study of him. “I have great respect for your father, my lady. However, I spoke the truth, and I will not go back on what I believe to be true.” He hesitated. “Although,” he added so quietly she could hardly hear him, “I probably shouldn’t have said it.”
Olivia was taken aback. She spluttered again, then demanded, “You think I’m spoiled?”
Peter had been staring past her ever since she mentioned her father’s name. At her indignant question, he looked at her, and his piercing brown eyes made her heart flutter. He was rather handsome. Olivia swallowed hard, refusing to squirm under his steady gaze. “You have given me no reason to think otherwise,” he replied bluntly.
Olivia’s cheeks flushed, and she dropped her gaze. He was right, she knew. He had not meant to intrude on her beautiful morning. He had not known he was trespassing. And he had not disrespected her in any way. And yet she had berated him. She had been horrible, and he had not done anything intentional to provoke her. Her mother would be ashamed of her. She was ashamed of herself. She was embarrassed that Peter thought ill of her. She wanted him to look at her with that flicker of admiration he had shown when she climbed out of the tree, not with disapproval.
“Although, first impressions are not always correct,” he said, his voice gentler than before.
Great. He was being nice. Now Olivia truly felt badly about her behavior. If her mother’s instruction had not drummed it out of her, she would have dug her toe into the dirt. Olivia sighed. She knew what she should do next, and it was one of her least favorite tasks. But if she was going to do it, she might as well do it well.
Olivia took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She looked Peter right in the eye and said cordially, “I apologize, Peter Isaacson. I apologize for my outbursts and my rude words. They were unfounded.” That awful blush heated her cheeks again. “And I apologize for scaring away your dinner. Please accept my regrets.”
Peter blinked and looked surprised. A beat later, he smiled warmly, and Olivia’s heart skipped. She silently ordered herself to stop being silly and wished she could stop the blush from turning her face bright red. He had a charming smile.
“I accept your apology,” Peter replied courteously. He dipped his head a little. “Please accept my own. I’m sorry as well for my rudeness… and for frightening you.”
“You didn’t frighten me,” Olivia answered quickly. Too quickly. Peter’s eyes lit with amusement. Drat her blush! Olivia scrambled for something to say next to break the awkwardness, and the question she came up with only darkened her cheeks further. Drat again! “Were you really going to spank me?”
Peter could not keep the mirth from his smile. “Probably.”
“Oh.” That was a brilliant response. Olivia dug her fingernail into her palm, wishing she had stayed at the manor today. Irritated with all manhood, she had run off into the woods and managed to make a fool of herself in front of the only attractive specimen for miles. If her brothers could see her now… Olivia sighed. There was no salvaging her dignity at this point. “You must think me ridiculous,” she said pathetically.
Peter shook his head, his gaze kind. “No, my lady. We all have bad days.”
Olivia could not help her short, scornful laugh. “You have no idea.” Then she winced inwardly. A lady never vented her problems before strangers. Oh, if her mother could hear her!
“That bad?” Peter asked.
She shrugged. “I suppose other women wouldn’t think so.”
He arched an eyebrow, which was a very attractive expression for him. “Now you’ve made me curious.”
Olivia found herself speaking before her better judgment could stop her. “I came of age barely two weeks ago,” she explained. “And since then I’ve been bombarded by every eligible man in the region coming to seek my hand in marriage.” Olivia nearly cringed. Her mother would have a conniption if she could overhear her daughter. But Peter burst out with a hearty laugh. He had a charming laugh too.
“Attack of the bachelors, is it?” he asked, chuckling.
Olivia giggled, but quickly stifled it with her hand. If her mother… Olivia silenced the thought. Her mother was not here. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t suspect they all are more interested in my father’s estate than in who I am as a person,” she answered boldly.
Peter grew a bit more serious. “I see.” But that light of amusement still danced in his truly attractive brown eyes.
Olivia tilted her head. “May we start over?” she asked him. When his eyebrow arched again, she explained, “It was such a lovely morning before I spoiled it with my poor attitude. Do you think we could… start over?”
His smile returned, warming her heart. He held out his hand, palm up. “Good morning, my lady. I am Peter the woodsman, son of Isaac the carpenter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Olivia beamed, then toned it back to a smile. She placed her hand delicately in his. “Good morning, Peter. I am Lady Olivia of the House of Thomas. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” He lifted her hand close to his lips as he bowed, and the brush of his breath sent a shiver straight up her arm to her heart.
Interest reflected in Peter’s eyes. “What are you doing out in the woods this fine morning, my lady?”
Olivia could not help but grin. “Escaping my suitors, woodsman. And climbing trees.” She had never been so bold with a man before - look at her, teasing him!
Peter did not seem bothered by it. He gave another hearty, delightful laugh. “I confess,” he teased back, “I’ve heard of some creative ways of avoiding romantic interest, but turning into a squirrel is not one I’ve before witnessed.”
“My father calls me squirrel!” Olivia grinned at him for guessing her pet name. “I’ve been climbing trees since I was a child. I can even out-climb my brothers,” she declared proudly.
“I’ve no doubt.”
They stood, smiling at each other like a couple of fools. Then Olivia asked spontaneously, “May I walk with you, Peter?” She had startled him. She hoped he did not think her too bold. Goodness, she was behaving like a commoner!
He blinked. “Um.” He cleared his throat, then glanced behind her. “Won’t they be looking for you soon, my lady?”
He was nervous of her father, Olivia realized as he glanced beyond her again. Now that she thought about it, he had good reason to be. Her father was very protective and very powerful. But she would now rather spend more time with Peter than walk alone. She shook her head. “No,” she answered truthfully. “My parents gave me the entire day to myself, and I told them not to expect me back before dark. I’m afraid I was reaching the end of my patience with suitors.”
Peter frowned slightly. “They allow you to roam the woods alone?”
“I promised not to go far,” Olivia defended. Her blush returned. “And I, um, threatened to behave in a quite unladylike manner if I was not released.” She lowered her eyes. What must he think of her now? Maybe she was spoiled.
The awkward silence seemed to last for an extraordinarily long time. “What would you have done?” Peter asked at last.
At his shaky tone, Olivia glanced up. He was trying not to laugh aloud, she was shocked to see. She smiled at him, liking him more by the minute. “I hadn’t decided yet. But it would have been something good. I have three older brothers who have taught me plenty of pranks over the years. It would have been something at my suitors’ expense. I think my parents let me go for their sakes more than anything.”
Peter did laugh then. He offered his hand once more. “In that case, I would be delighted to walk with you, Lady Olivia.”
Olivia could not make any words pass her lips. So, she simply smiled, and she took his hand. He settled her hand in the crook of his elbow like a true gentleman, and they began strolling deeper into the forest.

***

Peter sneaked a few discreet glances at Lady Olivia as they walked along. Despite their initial altercation, he did find her somewhat attractive. With her grey-blue eyes that flashed with passion and her soft brown hair which framed her face and trailed down her back, reflecting the dappled sunlight… Whom was he kidding? He thought she was beautiful. Lady Olivia of the House of Thomas. Admire from afar.
He enjoyed speaking with her. He had encountered few women with her vivacity coupled with her grace. A lady with spunk. True, he had thought her spoiled and suspected she was inclined toward it, but her apology had been sincere. She likely just needed a little extra opposition to round her out. Maybe if they saw each other again he could… No, he could not. Not with the House of Thomas hanging after her name. Not in a dozen lifetimes.
So, Peter kept his pose respectful as they walked among the trees and conversed. Still, the day was theirs, and she was fascinating. Could he help it if he enjoyed their walk?
The beginning of their conversation was awkward, however.
“Why don’t you buy meat from the town butcher?” Lady Olivia blurted out. Then she blushed, and Peter suspected she was regretting her question.
“Because I have no money,” he answered simply.
Her face turned darker red, and she avoided looking at him. He swallowed hard and hoped she did not suspect him of being a spendthrift or a gambler.
Before he could explain his pennilessness, she asked hesitantly, “You said your father is a carpenter?”
Peter nodded. “He was,” he corrected. “The best carpenter in the land,” he proclaimed proudly. He held back a sigh. “But he lost his sight, and he no longer works with wood aside from whittling. I send home what money I can to care for him.”
“You are a woodsman?” Lady Olivia verified. The respect in her tone made him straighten his shoulders.
“That and whatever else I need to be,” he replied easily. “I travel and work where I can. I live off the land when I can’t find work.”
She smiled and remarked wistfully, “That sounds wonderfully free.”
Peter nearly laughed, but he disguised it in a cough. His stomach’s growls were currently protesting his choice of freedom. “Freedom takes a good deal of effort,” was all he said.
“If you come to the manor, they’ll not deny you a meal.”
Peter paused. Did she think him a beggar? He did not need anyone’s pity, least of all hers. His stomach twisted at the idea of her thinking of him in that way. Still, maybe she was only trying to be kind. “Thank you, my lady,” he answered cordially. He would have one foot in the grave before he ever took her up on that offer.
When she did not speak for a moment, he glanced sideways at her. Unless he was badly mistaken, she was biting on her tongue. She had not meant to offend him. Peter smiled and opened his mouth to reassure her, but before he could, she asked another question.
“What of your mother?”
He nearly flinched, caught off guard by the question. Quietly he answered, “She died when I was fourteen.”
“God rest her soul,” Lady Olivia murmured.
They walked a little bit farther in silence. It was the loveliest walk Peter had been on in some time. Warm sunlight sprinkling through gaps in the trees, the rustling of their footsteps, the constant chatter of woodland creatures in the trees and brush, a beautiful woman on his arm…
Lady Olivia suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and said, “You may go on alone if you wish.”
Peter blinked. Was it something he had said? “Is something wrong, my lady?” he asked her.
Her laugh sounded forced. “I merely thought you might enjoy solitude to my incessant questioning.”
Peter was amused, and he smiled kindly at her. “I don’t mind your questions.”
“Well,” she answered wryly, “do you have any other painful memories or unwelcome topics that I can dredge up for you?”
Peter’s mirth overflowed, and he laughed heartily. She really was charming. She chuckled along with him, a delightful sound. “I shall do my best to think of something,” he promised.
“You may ask me something,” she offered. Then she quickly added, “If you want.”
Here was an opportunity to… No, he must keep their relationship neutral. Peter nearly laughed again. Neutral. He was already beyond neutral. Casual, then. He could do casual. He must do casual. Of the House of Thomas. “Tell me about your brothers,” Peter proposed, deciding that was a safe subject.
Over the next several minutes, Peter learned much of Lady Olivia’s brothers. She was a wonderful storyteller, and her tales often made him laugh outright. He learned her three older brothers, Sir Colby, Sir Leon, and Sir Philip, were away for the season and she missed them terribly. One of Baron Thomas’s good friends, Lord Wreathport, was having troubles with marauders, and her brothers had gone to join the lord’s men. They had the marauders on the run and were chasing them out of the lord’s lands, and they hoped to be back within the next few months.
Eventually the conversation turned to Lady Olivia’s recent debacles with suitors. Peter tried not to laugh at these stories, but his efforts failed more often than not.
“Well, I no longer wonder why you were angry with the whole of mankind,” Peter remarked finally, grinning. “You’ve had quite the sampling of the worst suitors I’ve ever heard of.” He swallowed his chuckle.
“It was wrong of me to take it out on you, though,” Lady Olivia said. She shook her head, angry even in her amusement. “Oh, the worst of all by far was Sir Charles!”
“Sir Charles?”
Lady Olivia sighed. “The younger son of Lord Stanwick.” Then she smirked. “I broke his toe.”
Peter nearly choked. “You what? Why?”
Lady Olivia scowled and glared at Peter, remembering. “He tried to kiss me!”
Peter took a deep breath, trying hard not to laugh at the outraged look on her face. But he could not resist teasing her. “Did you let him?”
“Not on your life!” A self-satisfied smile turned the corners of Lady Olivia’s lips. “I stomped on his foot and broke his toe.” She pantomimed stomping the offender’s foot. “He squealed like a pig.”
Peter could not hold back his laugh then. He had to wipe tears from his eyes. He told himself he was merely amused by the story, not delighted that she had not let another man kiss her. He had no claim to her lips, after all. Casual relationship. The House of Thomas. “I’m sure that would have made your brothers proud,” he remarked, trying to steer his thoughts onto safer ground. “What did your father do when he heard?”
Lady Olivia sighed and gave a little shrug. “He sent Sir Charles back home.”
Peter frowned slightly. “That’s all?”
“He would have liked to whip Sir Charles, I’m sure,” she defended. “But Lord Stanwick is Father’s first cousin, and there’s always been tension between them. I think Lord Stanwick is jealous of Father. Anyway, Father didn’t want to start a conflict with him. Mother gave me a lecture on better ways to handle the situation. I thought I did just fine.”
Peter smiled. “It sounds like your method was effective.”
“Exactly.” She lifted her chin. “Sir Charles won’t try that again!”
“No, I imagine not.”
“Or any other man, for that matter!” Lady Olivia added emphatically.
“Surely we’re not all bad,” Peter could not help but say. He quirked an eyebrow teasingly to make his statement more lighthearted. Not as if he really wanted to know if she considered all men a bane. Like him.
Her face flushed once again, and he hoped she had not read too deeply into his comment. “No, that’s not what I meant,” she answered quickly, making his heart lift. “I guess I just meant…” She sighed again. “I just don’t like feeling like a pawn.” Her tone was serious, and she averted her gaze.
Peter studied her while her face was turned away. She was remarkable. No, she was trouble. He must not entertain thoughts of falling for her, or else he would hit hard when reality came between them. House of Thomas. Did everyone in the Thomas household have such captivating blue eyes? He wanted to run his hand through her mousy hair. It looked delightfully soft. Or take the gentle curves of her face… Peter forced his gaze forward. Dangerous thoughts.
Silence reigned for the next few minutes, and they simply enjoyed nature and each other’s company. Then Peter noticed Lady Olivia staring at him. He glanced her way, and she looked away quickly. He hid a smile and kept walking. But soon, she was staring at him again. He glanced her way again, and she blushed. A charming reaction on a beautiful maiden such as herself.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head and looked forward abruptly. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.
It worked. Sadness shot through Peter’s heart before he could guard against it. Somehow she managed to slip past his defenses for the second time. Painful memories fought to come to light, and he strove to bury them back in darkness. A shadow crossed his face, and he could not speak for a moment. “No,” he answered finally.
They lapsed into silence once more.
They walked for a good while in companionable quietude. The sun rose higher and burned off the dew. Then Peter stopped and pulled Lady Olivia to a stop with him. She started to ask, but he hushed her with a finger to her lips. They were as soft as they looked. House of Thomas. He lowered his hand. Lady Olivia looked at him questioningly, and he dipped his head slightly toward what he had seen. A six-point buck. She pressed her lips together to keep quiet as he took his bow from his shoulder.
The buck was halfway behind a tree, halfway hidden in the shadows. Peter silently nocked an arrow and drew back the string. The buck walked gracefully forward, ears perked for danger. Its heart passed the tree’s trunk, and Peter loosed the arrow.
“You hit it!” Lady Olivia exclaimed, delighted.
Peter grinned and slung his bow over his shoulder with his arrows once more. He stepped in front of the lady and gave a low bow. “My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?” he invited. “I’m having venison.”
Lady Olivia giggled, thrilling him, and curtsied. “I would be delighted, Sir Woodsman.”

***

“I think it’s time I escort you home, Lady Olivia.”
Olivia looked up from the fire, dark spots dancing in her vision. She furrowed her brow. “I told my parents I would not be back before nightfall.”
Peter looked to the west. “Night is falling, my lady.”
Olivia followed his gaze, and her shoulders drooped. “Oh.” Drat the sun for setting so early. She did not want her time with Peter to end. What if they never saw each other again?
Peter stood and offered her a hand up. “I fear if we do not leave now, night will fall before you reach the manor. We should not worry your parents.”
She sighed. It was true. Her parents would send out search parties if she did not return home before the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. And Peter was right; she would be late if they did not leave now. “Very well.”
Peter and Olivia had kept up a steady stream of conversation throughout the day, but silence reigned as they began the journey back to Thomas Manor. Olivia tried to think of a way she could see Peter again, but nothing came to mind. Nothing reasonable, anyway. Mad ideas of running away with him flitted through her mind, but those were fantasies. Besides, Peter was too principled to do anything so scandalous.
The sun was halfway below the horizon when they returned to the place where they had first met. Peter smiled as he picked up his broken arrow and twirled it.
“Well, this day did not turn out how I expected,” he said.
Olivia smiled back and shook her head. “Nor as I expected.”
“I enjoyed the day,” he remarked, glancing sideways at her.
Dratted blush. “Even though it was spent with a spoiled baron’s daughter?” Olivia gazed at Peter with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, not caring that she was being too bold. She liked the amusement her query lit in his light brown eyes.
“Even though.”
“As did I,” Olivia stated casually, looking up at the beautiful, darkening sky.
“Even though it was spent with an overbearing, scenery-murdering, male scoundrel?”
Olivia giggled. “Yes, even though.”
They shared a smile, then they slipped into an awkward silence. The sun was sinking quickly, but Olivia did not want to say goodbye.
Her heart lifted when Peter asked, “May I escort you the rest of the way to the manor?”
I’d be delighted, was the first response that came to Olivia’s mind, but instead she smiled demurely and answered, “You may.”
Peter offered his hand, and when Olivia took it, he tucked her hand into his elbow, his hand lingering on hers a beat too long before releasing. She pointed the way to her home, feeling all kinds of happy, and they walked together.
“Where will you go next?”
Peter shrugged slightly. “I don’t know. I go where I can be useful and earn something to send home to my father.”
“Will you stay in the region?”
“If I can.” He glanced at her. “I am not a wanderer in my heart. I travel often, but I stay in one place as long as I am able.”
That answer pleased her, and she silently prayed he found long-lasting employment close by. Olivia’s heart sank as the manor came into sight. She did not want to have to say goodbye. Her steps slowed.
Peter’s stopped.
Olivia glanced at him and saw his eyes were wide. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You live there?” he asked, staring at the manor.
Olivia glanced at her home and nodded. She always had and probably always would. She was not having much luck finding a husband. Olivia looked at Peter again and smiled when she realized he was speechless. She looked back at Thomas Manor and tried to see it as he did.
A stone wall encircled the main buildings. Guards were stationed at regular intervals. The gatehouse was large, ornate, and strong. Through the gates could be seen the courtyard, the stables, and the entrance to the gardens. Standing taller than the walls was the manor itself, her home. It boasted the finest stone workmanship in the region, with large windows and magnificent balconies. Not visible from the front were the servants’ quarters, a couple smaller courtyards, and a picnicking lawn. Beyond the manor’s walls were the fields of wheat, barley, and corn, but the sky was too dark to see those. Lanterns lit most of the manor.
To Olivia, it was her familiar home, but she could see how it might appear imposing. “Would you like to come inside?” she asked Peter impulsively.
“Inside?” he repeated. He eyed the manor and slowly shook his head. “Thank you for the offer, my lady, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shifted one foot back. “I think it would be best if I bid you farewell before anyone sees us together.”
Olivia wanted to protest, then she thought about his words. It occurred to her for the first time what others might think if they learned she and Peter had spent the entire day together alone in the woods. Summon the blush. Still, she was not ready to bid farewell yet. Peter started to release her hand, and she said quickly, “Peter.” When he paused, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”
He frowned slightly. “For what, my lady?”
“For the deer… and the day.”
Peter’s face softened into a smile. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” He took her hand from his elbow and bowed over it. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance today, my lady.”
“And mine to make yours, woodsman,” Olivia replied, hating that this was goodbye.
He released her hand and straightened. “Farewell, Lady Olivia.”
Olivia tried hard to think of anything that would keep him here, but she could not. “Farewell, Peter.”
He eyed the manor, glanced at her once more, dipped his head, then he turned and left. Olivia stared after him until his silhouette disappeared into the shadows of the forest. Only then did she turn her face toward the manor and return home. The guards opened the gates for her, and she trudged toward the house, chewing on her lower lip. She did not think she could get away with throwing a fit two days in a row, but it was worth considering. Perhaps she could find Peter in the woods again.
“Did you have a nice day?” Baroness Thomas asked when Olivia entered the house. She tucked a stray strand of dark blonde hair behind her ear and winked her grey-blue eyes at Olivia. “A nice male-free day?”
Olivia smiled. “I had a very nice day.” She looked at her mother hopefully. “One I would like to repeat tomorrow.”
The baroness smiled sympathetically. “Unfortunately, that will not be possible. Sir Vincent and Sir Manfred arrived this morning. Your father entertained them today, but he assured them they might call upon you tomorrow.”
“Drats,” Olivia muttered, her hope deflating.
“That’s not a word, Olivia,” her mother scolded. “Now go upstairs and change your clothes. Cook saved you a plate of dinner if you’re hungry.”
“Yes, Mother.”

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