“There are some people who wish me to voice a certain opinion,” he replied. “But you need not worry, Miss Sloane. I am not easily intimidated.”
“I don’t doubt that, sir. However—”
“As you said, we shouldn’t waste time on trivial talk. I have just finished reading some of John Locke’s works on social contracts, and I would like your opinion on a few points.”
Olivia was not unhappy to shift the conversation to more familiar territory. Ideas were safe ground, while emotions were…
A slippery slope.
“Social contracts—ah, now we are getting to the heart of the issue,” she said. We must, of course, talk about Thomas Paine as well.”
“And Benjamin Franklin,” interjected John. “The Americans have a number of interesting thoughts on the subject.”
They began talking about political philosophies, and it wasn’t until she looked up and saw the glimmering waters of the man-made lake up ahead that Olivia realized their meanderings had brought them far from Rotten Row.
“Oh, look—the Serpentine,” she exclaimed.
“Sorry,” murmured John. “I wasn’t paying much attention to the pathways—”
“No need for apology, sir,” she responded. “My father used to bring me here to feed the ducks. He loved to tell me all about the different species he had seen on his exotic travels.” A wry smile tugged at her mouth. “And to explain their different mating rituals—much to the consternation of any adults who happened to be within earshot.”
The earl reined his team to a halt. “Shall we take a stroll by the water’s edge and toss them some breadcrumbs?”
“But we don’t have any—”
“No matter.” He had already vaulted down from his perch was coming around to give her a hand down from the vehicle. “I am sure some kindly soul will consent to sell us some.”
“But…”
John’s firm grip on her glove cut off any further protest. “It won’t take long.” He signaled to one of the boys loitering near the bushes and tossed him a gold coin. “Walk my horses, lad.”
There were still a number of people enjoying the sight of the ducks and their young paddling through the ripples of sunlight. The earl purchased a nearly full bag of breadcrumbs from an elderly man and guided her to the edge of the bank.
Olivia tossed in a handful into the water and watched the downy chicks gobble them up.
Her throat suddenly tightened. I miss you, Papa, she thought. And all the fun we had exploring new ideas. He had taught her to think, to challenge, to keep an open mind.
John seemed to sense her pensive mood and remained tactfully silent. He, too, threw a scattering of crumbs into the water and smiled at the antics of the quacking ducklings.
The bag was soon empty, and after a last lingering look at the scene, Olivia turned away. “We had better be getting back.”
Stepping aside, he did not insist on taking her arm, but let her go on by herself.
Head down, her mind still lost in thought and old memories, Olivia started to cross carriageway.
“Watch out, Miss!” bellowed the boy holding John’s team.
She looked up to see an out-of-control curricle bouncing down the path. Cursing, the driver slashed with his whip at his skittish horse. The animal gave a sharp whinny and broke into a panicked gallop.
Dear God. Dear God. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. Dazed, Olivia couldn’t seem to make herself move.
Then suddenly she felt herself lifted off her feet and swung out of the path of the charging horse. Shielding her body with his, John pivoted and planted his feet.
“Oiy!” Another cry from the boy as Olivia felt a jarring thud.
John grunted but kept his balance. She felt his muscles coil like steel springs and then release.
Twisting, he shot out a hand and grabbed the horse by the bridle. It tried to rear and shake him off, but he held firm and in a few strong strides, pulled the frightened animal to a halt.