Page 56 of An Innocent Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

She closed her eyes briefly, for his voice was even more raspy than usual, his own emotions taking over. She looked back at him, directly into his onyx eyes that were filled with anguish. It was almost her undoing. She altered her focus to his strong, smooth jawline, and his dark, cropped hair—and waited.

His throat worked, as if he was trying to find the right words, but in the end, he released her.

She walked out the door and climbed into the carriage, her vision blurring the snowy white landscape around her.

For the first time in her life, Olivia didn’t even feel the cold, because the pain in her chest stole her breath. But that’s what happened when your heart was breaking.

* * *

Miles watchedthe carriage pull away from the manor and had to clench his fists at his sides in order to keep from demanding that the driver stop. He wanted to drag Olivia out of that vehicle and carry her upstairs to his room where he would kiss every single inch of her, until her entire body had known his tongue and the taste of her skin was forever branded into his memory.

He shuddered as desire washed over him. The single thing that kept him from acting on the impulse was knowing that his actions wouldn’t fix anything. The appropriate actions along with the right proof could do that.

He strode back inside and slammed the front door before the butler could shut it, thinking that the finality of that loud bang would satisfy his current mood, but nothing would do that until he had Olivia in his arms again.

He stopped in the foyer and looked at Araminta. “The duke’s safe,” he snapped irritably, but he didn’t really care. Time was of the essence, and he had little patience. “Where is it?”

Araminta didn’t seem concerned as she turned on her heel. “Follow me, Your Grace.” He wasted no time in pursuing her, as Lord Somers followed behind. His mother parted ways with them, presumably to take to her bed once more. Ever since Miss Stillwater’s arrival, she had been resting more often than usual. He worried the strain would soon start to affect her health. It was just additional motivation to ensure he succeeded in putting an end to all of this.

Araminta entered the portrait gallery and headed straight for the painting of her father where he sat surrounded by his four young daughters. She grabbed a corner of the gilt-edged frame and pulled it forward. It moved to the side on a hinge and behind it was a large safe.

Miles paused, impressed to find that it housed a Bramah lock. The English inventor had crafted an intricate design that had a number of slots within different depths, that when the key was inserted into the lock and pressed against a spring tension, it would depress a number of wafers to a specified depth and enable the lock to open.

“I trust you have the key?” he asked.

“Naturally.” Araminta said with a wince. “Unfortunately, it isn’t here, but in London.”

Before Miles could say anything, Grey asked his betrothed, “Why in heavens name did you take it there?”

“Because Isa wanted to ensure it remained in a safe place until we knew the new heir could be trusted,” she returned evenly. “There are many of father’s important papers inside, as well as the Marlington jewels.”

“Since it shall be of no use to us there,” Miles intoned. “I shall have to pick the lock myself.” He turned to Grey. “I shall require a few tools.”

He named off the items he needed, and the earl nodded his head. “I’ll head downstairs to see what I can find.”

Once he was gone, Araminta tilted her head curiously. “You know there is no way to open this without a key. Joseph Bramah long claimed his design is burglar proof, that there are nearly five million possible combinations. Our father chose this specifically because of that reason.”

“It will be challenging, I agree,” Miles murmured as he carefully inspected the lock before him. “But one of my specialties in the army was picking locks. And this is not the first test of my ability.”

When the earl returned with the items Miles had requested, he set to work, while Araminta and Lord Somers left him alone.

The minutes ticked by, turning into hours, and although sweat beaded his forehead, Miles never lost his concentration. Even though several attempts had already failed, he had the determination to succeed, so he never considered giving up as an option.

Each time the clock struck the hour, someone would come check on him. He could feel their presence in the room, but he kept his focus on the lock. He knew it was getting late, as his vision was starting to blur, and his stomach was grumbling, but he didn’t care that he’d missed supper, vowing that he would not cease his efforts.

The sun was just starting to break the horizon with the golden glow of dawn when Miles finally achieved the sound of victory. The spring latch loosened and the safe was opened. He exhaled heavily, both in relief and exhaustion, and took out all the papers that were inside, ignoring everything else. He took the items over to a nearby table and began to riffle through them.

He soon found what he was looking for, but he had to read the marriage contract three times before it finally penetrated his consciousness. Miles clutched the document in his grasp and put the rest of the items back where they belonged and locked it back securely.

And then he headed downstairs.

To begin a New Year.

* * *

There was no celebration,or even acknowledgement, of the New Year, but it wasn’t as if Olivia really cared. If things had been different, she would have been a married woman right now, instead of a despondent debutante returning to the city that had always been rather lackluster to her. Now it was her entire existence that seemed that way.

She spent most of the carriage ride either sleeping or staring blindly out the window, and even though Calliope and Isadora had both done their best to try and engage her in conversation, their efforts had failed.

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