Page 18 of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
“Sorry, sir. It seems we ruptured a tire on the motorcar.” The driver climbed out of the cab and tossed his hat on the seat, then walked around the vehicle to assess the damage.
“Well, hell.” Owen laughed. “If not for the tire, we might have forgotten where we were.” This comment was more of a musing to himself than to her.
Milly was suddenly self-conscious again, and she tried in vain to fix her hair and jerk her skirts down. Her cheeks flamed and she retrieved her book from the floor of the cab and clutched it like a shield to her chest. Her heart was racing, the frantic beat so hard she felt it clear to the tips of her toes. She had never let herself act so freely, and half of her was caught up in the sheer delight of it while the other half of her wanted to crawl into a cave and hide to protect herself from how exposed she felt kissing Owen.
Owen got out of the car and walked over to the driver, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets as he and the driver studied the front tire. Milly noticed his dark hair was mussed and a light breeze kept ruffling it. The strands had been soft and thick, and touching them had been…exciting. Seeing the way she’d left her mark on him, even in a small way, was oddly satisfying.
He is my husband. I can kiss him whenever I wish, can’t I?
Owen kicked the tire with his shoe tip and then after a few more words with the driver, he opened the door to the backseat. He braced one hand on the roof of the car as he leaned toward her.
“Milly, sweetheart, we have to walk the rest of the way. We don’t have any means to get to Wesden Heath tonight except by foot. Can you make it? The driver says we’re about seven miles from the estate.”
“We have to walk the entire way?” She glanced around at the rolling hills of green landscapes. In the distance a few thatched roof cottages could be seen.
Owen frowned slightly. “We might have to. Unless we can find a local farmer who could take us the remainder of the journey.” He offered her a hand and she took it, letting him assist her out of the cab. She clutched the book, not wanting to leave it behind.
“What about our luggage?” she asked.
Owen glanced over at the driver, then back at her. “He will bring it tomorrow, or we can try to carry it.”
Milly weighed the options. Constance should be settled at Wesden Heath with most of her clothing.
“I think I can manage without it,” she replied.
The gleam of approval in his eyes filled her with warmth.
“Very well, let’s get started. We have a long walk ahead of us.”
Chapter 7
Seven miles was a long way for a well-bred lady to walk on a country road in dainty black boots, but Milly made not one peep of protest or uttered one complaint. Owen had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. She was so…different than he’d thought. The Milly he’d thought he’d known had been an arrogant, cold-hearted young woman. And it was all a mask.
The real Milly was passionate, intelligent, and determined. But she was frightened of him, not physically but emotionally. He couldn’t forget the way she’d looked when he’d teased her about her book. She had dared to open up to him about how she liked reading about strong female characters, but he’d said something he shouldn’t have and rather than lash out, she’d retreated. He recognized that type of behavior only too well. He’d done the same with his father when they’d quarreled. She was starting to care about his opinions, and thinking he didn’t like something hurt her. Owen and his father had never seen eye to eye on anything, and every fight had cost him part of his heart.
I’m going to have to be careful with her. Prove to her that she can trust me, that I do value what she says.
The revelation surprised him. He’d never dared to let a woman influence him before.
“How are you holding up?” he asked as they reached a small stone bridge that crossed a narrow stream. White geese toddled ahead of them, honking and squawking.
He didn’t miss the flash of pain on Milly’s face as she walked, or the slight limp on her right foot, as though she’d gotten hurt. They couldn’t be far now. This stream abutted his property.
“I’m fine.” Her response came out through gritted teeth.
Owen didn’t like knowing she was hurting. It was his job to protect her.
“We have half a mile…” He paused by the bridge and caught her by the arm.
“Why are we stopping?” She glanced down at his hand on her arm.
“Why don’t you rest for a minute?” He patted the gray stone of the bridge.
She looked ready to protest, so he gripped her by the waist and hoisted her up to sit her on the bridge’s edge.
“Oh!” She clutched at him, shooting a panicked glance over her shoulder at the little stream below.
“I’ve got you,” he soothed gently.
