She’d been so concerned about her own feelings that she’d never truly, deeply considered how Mr. Helgate must have felt that a charge had been snatched on his watch. Given the bloody state of the man on the ground, she could just believe that his attention was not the sort you wanted on you.
Best to leave.
“Let’s go,” she said to Oliver. The sooner they left, the sooner her heart would settle. She wanted to take a day to rest. Then, tomorrow, they would leave for Ashford again. Even though all she wanted to do was fall onto her bed with lavender pillows and forget this disaster, she couldn’t imagine being enclosed for hours upon hours in a carriage today.
A hand settled on her back and guided her and Leo from the tavern, Oliver and Mr. Helgate following closely behind. No words were spoken between the two parties as they left.
What she needed was the view of the beach from Mr. Helgate’s cottage. The smell of the ocean breeze blowing away the unease of those memories of her own kidnapping. And then there were those brief flashes...
Who was that young man from her memories?
Would she ever remember?
Did he even exist?
*
Oliver’s boots sankinto the sand as he made his way down the beach, a blanket draped over his shoulder, toward Louisa, who wandered along the shore. She’d once again surprised him when she’d asked Helgate if they could spend another night at the cottage. He’d thought she might insist on returning directly home after the fright they’d had, but she’d wanted to breathe in the ocean air, she had claimed.
He was happy she’d made that choice.
She deserved a moment to catch her breath, and he was glad to help provide that moment.
He’d told her the truth earlier in the tavern. Ever since the moment she’d jabbed a knife at him, she had claimed all the power between them. No, perhaps even before that. Ten years ago, when he’d discovered his father had abducted a little girl and held her in the run-down cottage where he had always before found his escape, ruining his once sacred sanctuary with that one act.
He lifted his chin and inhaled deeply, dragging the smell of salt and seaweed into his lungs.
Ah, yes, this was why she wanted to stay another night.
The distance between him and the angel closed. She moved with a grace that seemed to match the flow of the waves lapping at the sand. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in loose curls that danced with every step she took, shimmering in the evening sun. Her curves were gracefully sculpted by the soft folds of her dress, moving with each step.
Truly angelic. Utterly beautiful.
Oliver’s heart pounded, a fusion of emotions too profound to name exploding into his chest. She had stirred something within him during their time together. Something he couldn’t quite yet grasp with his two hands. Yet neither did he want to let it go.
“Louisa,” he said when he was a few feet away.
She glanced back and smiled when their eyes met. “Did you find yourself in the mood for a stroll as well?”
“Something to that effect.” He saw the gooseflesh on her arms. “You must be cold.” He pulled the blanket from his shoulder, shook it out, and draped it over her shoulders, his finger brushing the pale skin of her collarbone.
Oliver swallowed and withdrew his hands.
“On the contrary, the breeze is quite refreshing,” she said but clutched the blanket tightly.
She started walking again, and he fell into step beside her. “What are you thinking about, roaming the coastline all alone?” Oliver asked.
“Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t thinking about anything?”
Oliver smiled. “No.”
She chuckled. “You’d be right.” She bent down to pick up a smooth pebble, rubbing it between her fingers. “I was wondering what life would look like if the duchess were no longer in our lives.”
“You mean Leo’s life.”
“It must sound rather strange, but the way she speaks to him... I cannot explain it. It is too sweet, too false.”
“No, I understand,” Oliver said. In fact, he applauded Louisa for picking up on the nuances. Not many people would. “These women use their husbands and sons to manage the tasks they cannot, as you see with the betting book. And that control has to start somewhere.”
