Scandalous Summer Nights by Anne Barton Page B

accompany Terrence to the village. While he sees to the horses and the repairs, perhaps you could secure rooms for us at the inn.”
    “I could order dinner, too,” the maid said eagerly.
    “It’s all settled, then,” Olivia agreed. “Take the cloak from my portmanteau to keep you dry.” When Hildy opened her mouth to object, Olivia added, “I can’t have you taking a chill.”
    Hildy smiled gratefully. “You’re very kind, my lady.” She flung the cloak around her shoulders and scooped upher small bag. “Terrence and I will hurry to the village. He’ll return with help in no time at all.”
    Olivia squeezed the maid’s hand. “Be careful, Hildy.”
    With a bob of her head, she ducked out the door, and Olivia was alone.
    For about three blessed seconds.
    The door burst open, and Olivia slid to the left so that James didn’t have to climb over her leg when he took his seat on the bench opposite hers. Unfortunately, he mistook her meaning and deposited himself—his large, wet self—on the seat directly beside her.
    “Hildy and Terrence are heading down the road, horses in tow. They are bound and determined to rescue you as soon as possible. I’m not certain whom they regard as the greater threat—the highway robbers or me.”
    Olivia tried to ignore the fact that she was alone with James. She’d spent the better part of a decade trying to arrange just this sort of thing, and now that she’d managed it—quite by accident—she wished she were anywhere else.
    Because in spite of his determination to leave his family, his friends, and
her
to go dig up mummies, she still cared for him.
    The rich, deep sound of his voice melted her insides like butter. One sideways look from his green eyes stole her breath and her good sense.
    She was in trouble.
    She knew it.
    And if the hungry look James cast her way was any indication, he knew it, too.

Chapter Nine
    Observation: (1) A scientific notation regarding the details of a site or artifact. (2) A judgment based on one’s experience, as in
    In her observation, James’s backside was unparalleled both in firmness and in shape.
    J ames had no intention of ravishing Olivia.
    The problem was that when he was around her, he had a habit of doing all sorts of things he didn’t intend.
    “There’s every possibility a passing carriage could stop and lend us assistance,” James said. If he reminded himself of that fact, maybe he’d be less inclined to give in to the temptation to kiss Olivia.
    She cast him an indulgent smile. “We’ve seen exactly one other traveler since leaving Haven Bridge, and that was a farmer in a mule-drawn cart.”
    “It lacks a certain amount of dignity,” he teased. “But with an ankle like that, you can’t afford to turn up your nose at a perfectly functional—if rickety—wagon.”
    “That’s true. Thank heaven we’re not in Hyde Park. Could you imagine me riding down Rotten Row in theback of a cart with my grossly swollen foot propped on a crate of angry chickens? I can see Miss Starling now, seated on a stylish barouche, gaping at me from beneath her lace-edged parasol with undisguised revulsion.” Olivia shuddered. “I suppose I should be grateful that we’re in the middle of nowhere. The only witnesses to my shame are the cows, over yonder.”
    James chuckled. “You’ve always been able to find the bright side of an unfortunate situation. I admire that about you.”
    She snapped her head around to look at him, eyes narrowed as though she feared he was mocking her. “Truly?”
    “Yes. I admire a great many things about you, Olivia.”
    She swallowed, working the fine muscles of her neck. “That’s kind of you to say.”
    “It’s true. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been full of boundless energy and passion. You’ve always spoken your mind and been easy to talk to. While you
really
shouldn’t have come here without your brother’s knowledge—”
    “Yes, I believe you’ve already mentioned