Page 14 of The Butterfly
She’d bounced in her seat with impatience, waiting for the carriage to roll to a stop, hardly pausing for a footman to open the door before throwing herself to the ground, boots landing with a thud.
“Niall!” she’d cried out, yanking loose the ribbons of her bonnet and letting it fly off her head without bothering to see where it landed.
He’d handed the reins off to another groom, and after a quick murmured word, had rushed toward her. She’d been thrilled to see him, familiar, but changed by the months that had separated them. It wasn’t until they had both slowed, coming within a few inches of one another, that the very air around them had shifted. Olivia had stumbled to a stop, suddenly breathless. Her chest had heaved, and an unfamiliar awareness had made the surface of her skin tingle and her mouth go dry.
Her eyes had gone wide as she’d stared up at Niall, who’d appeared to have transformed in the blink of an eye. From ungainly stable boy, to large, strongman. He must have gained at least a stone of weight since the last time she’d seen him, if not more … and all of it appeared to have gone straight to the chest, shoulders, and arms, bulging against the seams of his shirt. His proportions were completely altered, his long arms and legs graceful instead of awkward. His hair had been in its usual wild, black tumble, matching eyebrows shadowing equally dark eyes. The face that had been so dear to her hadn’t looked the same. His lips were fuller, his jaw more powerful, his nose no longer too big for his face. At least two days’ worth of hair had sprouted along his cheeks, dark and bristly, giving him a rakish aspect.
She’d never been more aware of the differences in their sizes than she had at that moment, with his shadow falling over her and blotting out the sun. He’d made her feel childish and frail by comparison. At least, until she’d realized that he had stopped smiling and was now watching her as intently as she watched him. And she’d no longer felt like a tiny little girl. The way he’d looked at her had made her feel powerful, feminine.
His gaze had slid down her body, taking in the changes she had begun to notice happening month by month herself. Her face had thinned, losing the roundness of youth and giving way to an angular jaw and cheekbones. The shift made her lips appear fuller, her eyes larger. She had grown a bit taller, but not much, and had come to terms with the reality that she would always be petite. Her midsection had lost the last of its girlish softness, growing taut as her waist nipped in at the sides. Her hips had widened and rounded out, and while her breasts were no more than a handful, they’d grown enough that they showed through the layers of her stays, chemise, and gown.
His intent gaze had made her more aware of them than ever, her nipples tightening and a strange heat beginning low in her belly.
Clearing his throat, he’d smiled again, though this time it was strained. “Welcome home, Li—um, m’lady.”
She’d tried to smile back, bewilderment translated it to more of a grimace. M’lady? He hadnevercalled her that, or used any other honorific that reminded her of the difference in their stations. Was he worried that someone might overhear them?
Her voice had come out hoarse when she’d replied. “Hello, Niall.”
He’d reached up to rub the back of his neck, his gaze wandering toward the paddocks, where other grooms went about their work. No one had paid them any attention, as the sight of them conversing was not unusual. Olivia or Adam hanging about the stables had become common enough over the years.
“How was yer journey?” he’d asked, still rubbing his neck and looking anywhere except at her.
“Oh, fine.” She’d dropped her gaze to her boots peeking out from beneath the hem of her carriage dress, suddenly unable to look at him, either. “How fare your parents?”
Niall had sighed, shifting from foot to foot. “Maw’s been sick … the doctor says it doesnae look good. Da is … well, he’s m’da, as always.”
He had not needed to explain anything when it came to Conall Gibbs, when Olivia and everyone else who knew him understood how things were. The man was a raving drunk prone to fits of violence. It was not unusual to find Niall sporting a blackened eye or a fat lip from time to time. She would much rather have heard that the Stablemaster was the one who had gotten ill as opposed to his wife.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” she’d replied.
“Thank ye. Adam’s in the house waitin’. Ye should go to him.”
For some reason, that had stung. Glancing up at him, she’d found he still avoided her gaze, as if he could not be away from her fast enough. The need to be near him and the urge to flee due to these confusing feelings had warred within her. Eventually, the latter had won out.
“All right, then,” she’d replied. “It was good to see you, Niall.”
“You too, m’lady.”
With that, he’d brushed past her and headed toward the tables, the sinewy muscles of his thighs stretching and flexing beneath his snug breeches. Another surge of the unfamiliar heat had swept through her, and for a moment, she’d found herself unable to look away, captivated by his broad back and taut buttocks.
What the devil was wrong with her?
Cheeks heated with both embarrassment and this other strange emotion she didn’t quite understand, she’d turned and rushed toward the house. She had not bothered to retrieve any of her belongings from the carriage, knowing servants would deliver them to the house for her.
She did not understand why she could not talk to Niall the way she once had. Why couldn’t she simply throw herself into his arms and let him take her up onto his shoulders like he always did? Why couldn’t he look at her, or smile at her, or ask what books she had brought home for them to read? Why did he address her as if they were strangers instead of the best of friends?
It had only taken her a few days to realize what was happening and what it meant. And on a warm summer day beside the swimming hole, Olivia had experienced her first taste of true desire at the hands of Niall.
1810
9 years earlier…
Olivia picked her way down the sloping ground toward the pond, a satchel holding her books slung over one shoulder. This summer proved unseasonably warm, and she wished to take advantage of the clear skies and indulge in a bit of time outdoors. Before she knew it, she would have to return to school, which meant entire days cloistered indoors, with only short afternoon walks for fresh air. Being away from home, she missed Adam and Niall most of all, but had also longed for the beauty of Scotland and the greenness of the outdoors. The garden at school, where flowers grew enclosed in stone, was small and pitiful compared to the beautiful expanse of her beloved home. She smiled as she came to the bank of the pond, setting down her bag. Niall and Adam would join her shortly, but for now, she was blessedly alone.
This short time on her own would give her a moment to gather her bearings and prepare herself to face Niall. Things had been strained since her return home, with very few words exchanged between them when they encountered one another. If he came upon her alone, he did his best to avoid her. The rare times he spoke to her were almost always followed by that infuriating use of ‘m’lady’, further widening the sudden rift between them. Whenever Adam was with them, he tried to act as if nothing was amiss, so Olivia followed his lead. She smiled and laughed and chattered with her knights the way she always had. When Adam was not looking, she watched Niall, noted the tightness of his jaw, the distance in his eyes. Something had happened, but she could not quite figure out what it was.
Taking a deep breath, she gazed out over the pond. Clumps of white bogbean grew along the edges of the bank while long, narrow stalks of water lobelia grew in clusters in the shallows. The reflection of the trees stretching their branches overhead made the water appear a mossy green, bursts of white from floating water lilies dotting it here and there.
