Chapter Thirty-Two
Olivia politely declined the offer of company. She needed time alone.
She wandered through the hedgerows until she reached the formal gardens. The sweet scent of gardenias drew her in. How had she never before appreciated the deep green glossy leaves and the soft and waxy folds of the flowers? And the merry pink of the carnations and the orange hues of the marigolds, too – not to mention the spring of the lawn under foot?
She was alive and safe. Adam was safe, too.
Never would she underestimate the miracle she had been given.
The gravel settled under foot as she found a path to follow which led to a lake where two white swans swam serenely, barely causing a ripple on its mirror-like surface. Across the other side of the water was a summer house. That’s where she wanted to be.
The lake was large enough to row on and the Ridgeways had the means to do it. A little rowboat lay upside down on its gunwales on the little jetty, useless to her without assistance. Never mind, she saw where the path turned through the meadow grasses, and followed where it beckoned until she had reached her destination.
The arbor was freshly whitewashed and inside was a daybed covered by a canvas. She removed it to expose the cushions of purple, pinks and gold.
If she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of darkness and violence, so she kept them open and watched the bulrushes at the edge of the lake sway gently in the breeze.
The warmth of the afternoon sun touched her shoulders, warming her, reminding her that a new day was a new beginning, new every morning.
Part of a Sunday homily recalled itself.
It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning: great is Thy faithfulness.
Olivia smiled, her resolve unshakable.
Yes, she was ready for the new beginning.
Across the lake and up the path, an approaching figure caught her eye.
She remained where she was. Adam would find her. He would always find her.
*
Adam was told that Olivia had gone for a walk in the grounds, so he went in search of her.
He tried to set aside all of his questions and doubts about Harold and other members of the Society. Yet the feeling of betrayal was raw. Adam was a man who valued control, but he’d learned the harsh lesson that there would always be things he was powerless to prevent.
But should that stop him from living? From sharing his life and his love with Olivia?
How foolish he had been to think he could walk away from Ridgeway and his King’s Rogues.
It was part of who he was now, as indelible as the tattoo on his right hand. Would Olivia accept him as he was?
He followed a gravel path through formal gardens. Hedged borders stood as battlements against the encroaching grass discharging the duty of protecting the exotic flowers within.
Adam glanced in one of the manicured garden beds as he passed and spotted a plant out of place, a weed, though he knew little of gardening to be sure.
It was nature’s way of saying that order was a fleeting thing and vigilance was required to maintain it.
There was much work to do to. Fitzgerald’s office had been raided by some of Ridgeway’s men this morning. The trove of documents they expected to find would hopefully reveal more.
How long had Harold been involved in this conspiracy? How far did its tentacles reach? What was so important about him that the Society thought it was worth risking everything to bring him to France?
To have these answers, he would have to find Harold. And he would. By God, he would.
The only question was whether Olivia would stand at his side to do it.
Adam walked through the gate pillars which led out to the lawn beyond, the glint of water drawing him to it. Somehow, he knew Olivia would be there.
He reached the lake and walked to the end of the jetty. Across the water was a summer house and that’s where Olivia was.
The doubts emerged from the depths. Did he intrude? Did she want him at all?
The woman across the lake gave him no clue.
The shortest distance was across the lake. Adam righted the small rowboat on the jetty beside him and set it in the water and retrieved the oars which had been underneath. Once settled in the boat, he pushed himself away from land and began to row.
The swans called to one another. Dogs barked in the distance. The dipping of the oars created their own music but there was no hail or acknowledgment as he made his way to his destination.
Although his thoughts were only on Olivia, Adam kept his eyes on the receding jetty, using it to guide his course.
How apt, that as he moved away from the past, his attention remained fixed on it. The jetty he could see, along with all his mistakes and regrets – Harold, Constance, Christopher…
The future he moved toward was something he could not see, but he took it on faith that it would be there, that she would be there at the end of it.
He tied the boat to a smaller jetty that served the summer house and approached Olivia on the large daybed cautiously.
It had been two days since their ordeal. Adam found himself searching her brown eyes for clues as to how she felt.
“It’s going to be a long trip if you don’t speak to me,” she said.
He wondered at the words a moment until recalling that he had said the words to her one rainy day at Ponsnowyth.
God, that seemed a lifetime ago.
“I should think that after yesterday,” he answered, “well, the day before yesterday – you’d hardly entertain the idea of speaking to me at all.”
A smile emerged, telling him that he recalled the meeting correctly. Olivia shifted on her seat in silent invitation for him to join her. Adam grabbed hold of it like a drowning man.
He sat beside her, searching her face. There were bruises. A visceral rage welled. Olivia calmed him with a touch.
“They’re only minor hurts, they will fade with time,” she told him. “It’s the ones we cannot see which concern me, like Harold.”
“You know the extent of his betrayal?”
“Lady Abigail told me what Sir Daniel believes, and I had my own suspicions.”
“Which I should have listened to,” said Adam bitterly.
Olivia reached out and touched his hand, shaking her head as she did so. “He was your friend.”
“That is why his betrayal is so bitter to me.” Adam took her hand and held it. “I can’t let it go, Olivia. I have to follow this through to the end. It means that I live the life of a spy. What that means for us, I cannot say. I never want secrets to come between us, but I can’t involve you in this, not after what happened at the boat house.”
Olivia returned a squeeze.
“I’m already involved, whether you like it or not,” she said. Olivia move closer until their thighs touched. Adam folded her into an embrace.
“Besides, you’re no longer the only spy in the family.”
“What?”
Adam pulled back until he could see Olivia’s face properly. Her expression might have been sober but for a twitch of her lips that hinted at a smile.
“Sir Daniel may have his rogues, but Lady Abigail has her league of lady spies,” she said.
Adam closed his eyes and groaned. Olivia giggled.
“I love you and I know what I’m getting involved with,” she whispered close to his ear. It tickled, raising a run of gooseflesh down his neck and along his arm. “I’ve been involved ever since that day you kissed me at the priory ruins.”
He hauled her onto his lap, using his lips on her face, her neck, her hair, to reveal his heart, as he could not do in words. She returned his kisses just as ardently.
Adam held on to Olivia while he shifted his position until he lay on the daybed with the woman he loved more than life draped over him.
“Then there is only one thing left to say.”
Olivia placed her hands on his shoulders, supporting her weight to look at him.
“Oh, don’t tell me that you forbid me from working alongside you and the Ridgeways.”
Adam ran his fingers up her sun-warmed back, through her hair. He shook his head and allowed himself to smile. Although he was confident of the answer, the question still had to be asked.
“Olivia Collins, I love you. Will you marry me?”
“Yes. Absolutely yes.”
Olivia may have said more after that, but Adam was too filled with joy to take in more. He kissed her deeply. The press of her body on his waking desire. His hands roamed over her form. In the late afternoon summer sun, they found their new beginning together.