Stephanie James by Love Grows in Winter Page A

… Perhaps he should refrain from demanding Olivia’s company, especially after her speech about the plight of women. She was most definitely still fuming over their last fight, and since he was a man, a member of the superior gender which commanded her complete and absolute submission, perhaps his best choice of action was to ask her very, very nicely.
    • • •
    Olivia opened her door slowly. She had seen Lord Philip marching off to the stables for some reason or another from her window, so she knew he was not in the house. But she did not want to take any chances. She had successfully avoided him for the last three days, and she didn’t want a blemish on her record.
    He certainly had taken his time leaving the house this morning. Olivia thought she might starve if he did not hurry his meal. She wanted breakfast, but there was nothing in heaven or on earth that could force her to eat with him. Luckily, before she had expired, Mrs. Stanley had brought her a tray … as well as unwanted advice.
    “Why don’t you go down and join him, deary? I’m sure he’s sorry,” Mrs. Stanley had said. “You should see his face whenever he asks about you. I just know he feels terrible.”
    “Ha!” Olivia had scoffed. “Believe you me, Mrs. Stanley, that man could not possibly care less about my feelings or how much he has ruined my life. He is the most disgracefully arrogant man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Just keep the trays coming as long as he is in this house. I will not dine with, or be in the company of that brute for any reason.”
    With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Stanley had agreed. “As you wish, deary. But I still think he feels terrible,” she had added before shutting the door softly behind her.
    What did Mrs. Stanley know? And what did Richard know, while she was on the subject? His letter had infuriated her so profoundly she had burned it immediately after reading it. Wedding, indeed! Olivia would just as soon marry the devil himself before Lord Philip Ravenshaw. Neither Richard nor Mrs. Stanley knew what Lord Philip was really like. He had not shown them his true nature as he had to her.
    And no matter how sincerely he had apologized for his behavior at that horrible dinner, the fact remained that since meeting Lord Philip, Olivia’s life had become a veritable nightmare. Even when he meant well, he seemed to destroy her happiness.
    Well, not anymore.
    She had spent the better part of the last three days feeling rather depressed and hopeless about her situation. This morning, however, she had awoken with the intent to better her circumstances. Tears would not solve anything. Neither would avoidance of the issue. Lord Philip was in Dorset to stay, so she couldn’t very well hide from him as she had from all the nobles in London a year ago. She could, however, make him agree to an understanding the next time she saw him, that he was to stay away from her from now on.
    But hopefully she wouldn’t see him just now. She wasn’t quite ready for their next meeting.
    She inched out of her room and closed the door quietly behind her. She was dressed in her new riding habit … minus the ridiculous top hat that had come with the incredibly uncomfortable green monstrosity. Her father had seen to it rather expediently that she had at least one riding habit. The dress shop in town had been in possession of only this particular garment, which the dressmaker had altered based on a record of Olivia’s most current measurements. It had then been delivered immediately after completion late yesterday afternoon.
    Olivia had mixed feelings about the habit. She hated that she had to wear it, but she was thankful she had it because now she could ride. Her father had confiscated, and then burned, her brother’s old breeches, just as he’d promised, so even if she had wanted to defy him and ride off alone, she could have only done so naked, which, of course, was not a desirable option.
    But now she had her silly riding