Stephanie James by Love Grows in Winter

other woman, and her hatred was not a passing emotion that would dwindle with time and distance. Indeed, Philip feared Olivia would always hate him for what he had done.
    What he had done …
    He almost could not blame her for striking him … almost. But it was still undeniable that he had hurt Olivia more than her hand had hurt his cheek. Philip never would have thought he possessed the power to hurt her so badly. And he most certainly never would have thought for a minute that she equated riding alone to freedom. He would have wondered endlessly how he could have overlooked such a thing were it not for Olivia’s own explanation.
    He was a man.
    She had been right. Philip had never given a thought to his freedom, because, as a man (especially one with wealth), he could do whatever he wanted. Propriety, society, and ethics dictated that he could not do some things, but, even with those boundaries, Philip could still do whatever he wanted.
    And with the aid of that realization, Philip was able to understand why Olivia’s gender restrictions troubled her so.
    She was proud.
    In everything she said, in every move she made — be it walking or a simple flick of her head — her pride was always evident. His sausages momentarily forgotten, Philip tried to picture Olivia altering her behavior in order to get what she wanted from someone. It was just as impossible to fathom as imagining what it would be like to be a woman.
    How interesting.
    Upon their first meeting, Philip had been so certain Olivia was using every trick in her possession to lure him into marriage for her own benefit. But now that he knew her, months later, the very idea seemed ridiculous. Olivia was Olivia. She might have altered her behavior to accommodate Philip when he first arrived, but as she had so thoroughly clarified, that performance had only been for her father’s benefit.
    She would probably do the same for her brother as well. She would stifle her pride and play the toady to anyone for the sake of her family, but not herself. Anything she achieved for herself would have to be the result of her own merit, not the charity of others. Philip found that strangely admirable … and stupid. She was only making life harder for herself.
    Unfortunately Olivia could not achieve all she wanted. Especially not now after he had so expertly seen to it that Mr. Winter was stricter with his daughter. God, what a twisted situation this was. He felt like the worst sort of fiend for having stolen away her freedom — no matter how much he tried to rid himself of his guilt, there was no getting around the fact that he had shackled her spirit — but he could not have simply held his tongue and watched from a distance as she paraded herself around in those damn breeches and her unbound hair for all the men to see. It was dangerous, and it had most definitely needed to be stopped. However, now that he had achieved victory, and Olivia had been forbidden to leave house in breeches or without an escort, Philip did not feel any better. In fact, he felt worse.
    As a creature of peace, Philip disliked any sort of confrontation, and in particular the nagging reality of someone hating him. Olivia, again, was no exception, despite her horrible attitude towards him. He hated the fact that she had not been out of her room in three days because of him.
    He had to do something — he needed to do something to make it up to her. But somehow he knew that a simple spoken apology would not warrant absolution this time. If he wanted smooth over his current blunder with Olivia, it would take a grand gesture indeed to melt through her hatred of him. Philip looked down at his half-eaten breakfast. He couldn’t waste any more time on food, however delicious he knew it was and would be.
    He pushed away from the breakfast table and marched outside. He was off to the stables, where he was going to saddle Olivia’s horse and his own, and then demand she accompany him for a morning ride.
    Well