Page 47 of House of Thorns
Chapter Thirteen
Turning the Tides of Fate
Nicholas yawned from the comfort of his carriage as the bank came into view. It was an impressive building, granite, with six Corinthian columns topped with statues. Exactly what they were of, he hadn’t a clue. No doubt, they represented money in some shape or fashion—massive good luck charms for the wealthy bankers lurking within.
As the carriage rolled forward, a familiar shade of auburn hair stormed down the bank steps and crossed the street.
He’d recognize her anywhere. Olivia.
He rapped the window but leapt from the carriage before the coachman pulled rein. He caught up with her as she turned toward Glasgow Green.
“Pardon me, sir,” she muttered as he stepped into her path.
“Olivia?”
She blinked and looked up. For the briefest of moments, her eyes widened with what could only be pleasure. Then, a mask fell over her face and her bonny green eyes shuttered.
“My lord,” she murmured.
The tone was so formal, he winced.
“Might I offer you a ride?” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the carriage now waiting across the street.
“No, thank you,” she replied at once. “I shan’t keep you from Deborah.”
He lifted a puzzled brow. Deborah? Again? “I confess, that is not a name I expected to hear—especially after our last meeting.”
Olivia lifted her chin, giving her head a little toss, and for a moment, he lost all track of what she was saying. He wanted to kiss her again.
“There’s no need to hide the fact you’re truly lovers,” she snapped.
“What the devil?” Aye, perhaps it was high time he simplyshowedher the truth, kiss some sense into those plump, pink lips.
She closed her eyes and puffed a breath, blowing the hair from her face. “Forgive me. I’m out of sorts. Dealing with the bank darkens my mood.”
“Understandable, I assure you,” he granted, and then drew his brows into a line. “But this nonsense of Deborah must end.”
“Truly, I only wish you the best,” she replied. “Since we are to be relatives—”
He caught her shoulder. “I thought you were of the understanding that Deborah spoke of me falsely. Surely you could see that when we spoke with her?”
“Lord Randall informed me that he sees the both of you together, often enough—”
He couldn’t bear to hear more. “What tripe is this?” He snorted with contempt. “Lord Randall? Good Lord, the man is at it again.” Mr. Timms couldn’t investigate fast enough.
Olivia hesitated. “At what, again?”
He clenched his jaw. “The man’s a liar, lass. Come. Shall we discuss this in the privacy of my carriage?”
She rooted herself to the ground. “I’ve much to do—”
“Please, Olivia. All is not as it seems, I assure you.”
When she heaved a breath, he knew he’d won, and minutes later, they were safely settled in his carriage, with the coachman given orders to take the longest route back to her printing shop.
As the carriage rolled forward, Nicholas began, “Years ago, both Randall and I fell for the charms of the same lass, one Henrietta Kendrick.”
“Lady Kendrick’s daughter?” Her lashes fluttered in recognition.
