Page List


Font:  

Elizabeth continued behind Oliver at a slower, more ladylike jog. All right, so perhaps not ladylike since a lady would have never jumped out of that carriage in the first place. But at least she wasn’t running with her skirts up anymore.

Oliver overtook the little dog in less than a moment, but the man and beast performed what Elizabeth thought was the most entertaining dance she’d ever witnessed. The dog moved to the left and Oliver followed, only for the dog to zigzag in the opposite direction. She could no longer contain her laughter when Oliver finally dove onto the dog and wrestled the muddy fur ball. He rolled over and sat up, not letting the dog out of his arms, and stood. Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth to hide an even bigger laugh threatening to burst out.

Oliver was covered head to toe in dirt. His tan leather breeches were ruined with grass stains. His jacket was covered in cakes of wet mud. It seemed Lord Hastings was correct about the unfortunate mutt’s original coloring. Even Oliver’s cheek had managed to earn a brown splotch. And yet—he looked more handsome to her than ever. His eyes sparkled and his jacket was strained against the muscles in his arms where he struggled against the efforts of the rambunctious dog. This was the man she loved. Her heart gave a sharp tug that he didn’t love her back.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked with playful narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean? You look perfectly normal.” She assumed her most serious expression.

“I can feel the mud on my face.”

“It adds to your rugged handsomeness,” she said with a chuckle.

His smile grew a little serious. “You think I’m handsome?”

Her smile then fell away all together. Thankfully, at that very moment, the two children—an older boy and a young girl—bounded up behind them, panting and red faced from their exercise. “There, there,” said Elizabeth bending down to put a hand on the little girl’s back. “Take a breath. Your dog is rescued so you may make yourself easy now.”

“Thank you for catching our Freddie, mister!” said the boy, who looked to be somewhere around eight years old.

Oliver raised Freddie to look into the little mutt’s eyes and laughed. “Freddie, is it? I should have known. Freddies are forever disobeying.”

“Truly?” asked the little girl who looked a little older than Elizabeth’s three year old niece, Jane.

Oliver assumed that expression he always got when he was trying to entertain Jane. “Oh yes—I once knew a boy named Freddie and he was set down from school for misbehaving more times than I could count.”

“That’s just like our Freddie, all right,” said the boy, giving the dog a reprimanding look. “I’m sorry you had to spoil your clothes to catch him for us.”

Oliver smiled and looked down at his ruined breeches. “These old things? Never mind them. I’ve despised them for years.”

“Boy,” came the sudden harsh sound of Lord Hastings’s voice from behind Elizabeth. She turned and found him and his pristine Weston coat walking up behind them, a frown on his face. “You ought to have had that dog—”

“Freddie,” Oliver interjected. “The dog’s name is Freddie.”

Lord Hastings looked to Oliver as if he didn’t quite know how to take the interruption. He swung a disapproving look back to the boy. “Dogs should never be in the park without a lead. Do you see what your negligence has caused?”

“Lord Hastings,” Elizabeth said in a soft tone, hoping to get the man to stop talking. His shift in demeanor was more than a little shocking.

He looked to Elizabeth, standing a little taller. “Young boys must be shown the error of their ways. And this,” he gestured toward Oliver and Freddie, “was certainly an error. Not only have you ruined a gentleman’s outfit, but you have delayed our drive. Where is your—”

“That’s quite enough, Hastings,” said Oliver with an edge to his voice that Elizabeth had never heard before. Of course, she’d heard that he and Carver had been known to escalate their arguments to actual fisticuffs now and then, but she had never seen him look so fierce or protective. “The boy doesn’t deserve your wrath. I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”

“It was, sir!” said the boy, looking as if he were trying to be brave but might fall into tears at any moment. “We had him on this lead,” he raised a limp piece of leather, “but Sally begged me to let her chase him. I let Freddie off of it for only a moment, but then he ran off.”

Oliver smiled at the boy. “Like I said, an honest mistake.”

“One that should be paid for,” said Lord Hastings, refusing to come down from that throne of righteousness he was perched on. Elizabeth did not at all like the man at that moment.

“Since it was not you who suffered any sort of sacrifice today, Hastings, I hardly think you are in a place to make that call.” Oliver turned his blue eyes to the boy and the fire that had been present a moment ago had softened. “Now, let us get our dear Freddie back on that lead of yours.” He set Freddie down and helped the boy reattach him.

>

Oliver was so kind and gentle with the boy, and it made Elizabeth want to wrap her arms around him and never let go.

“John,” said the little girl. “Miss Hollis is going to be angry at us, isn’t she?”

“Who is Miss Hollis?” asked Elizabeth, stepping in front of Lord Hastings to shield the children from any more of his unkindness.

“Our governess,” answered John. “She…might have told us to stay put while she went to speak with a friend on the path. And then…”


Tags: Sarah Adams Dalton Family Historical