Page 12

Chapter Twelve

“ G ood morning, Your Grace,” Lady Elizabeth greeted softly, but Dominic could swear there was a little more fire there.

She was getting angry.

Yet Dominic’s mind was still on Marianne, who had run again.

Most women wouldn’t flee from Dominic Carlyle, the Duke of Oakmere—wealthy, titled, and one of London’s most eligible bachelors at thirty-two. But Marianne wasn’t like most women.

His desire to chase after her had been strong the night before, but he’d seen the fear in her eyes and stayed rooted in place.

The rest of the night had passed in restless wakefulness, leaving him bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache by morning. Breakfast only slightly eased his discomfort, though the clatter of plates and glasses did little to help.

He’d scanned the room, nodding absentmindedly at greetings, his focus entirely on one person—Marianne. No curly brown hair, no freckled face, no hazel eyes that shifted like the sea.

Lord Grisham had just entered, with Lady Elizabeth in tow.

Dominic had watched, irritated, as their host had dragged his second-eldest daughter toward him. She stumbled to keep up, forcing a smile that barely hid her discomfort.

“Good morning. Lady Elizabeth,” Dominic finally responded.

The awkward silence lingered, as expected. Lady Elizabeth fidgeted with her utensils, stealing glances at her father’s furious face, while Dominic reached for a much-needed cup of coffee.

His weary mind, however, kept drifting back to the freckled brunette—Marianne—rather than the petite blonde seated in front of him. Despite the polite smile she offered, it was her sister’s hazel eyes that flashed across his mind, that consumed his thoughts.

“Father,” Lady Elizabeth began, probably having gathered enough courage. “Where is Marianne this morning? I have not seen her.”

Dominic dared not react or make a comment. He was wondering, too. Had she caught a cold last night?

“Your sister is indisposed,” Lord Grisham replied, sounding bored, his eyes focused on the eggs he was slicing into pieces. “She ate in her chambers.”

“Oh.” Lady Elizabeth could not hide her disappointment. There was a long pause. “May I be excused?”

Grisham openly glared at her, sighing heavily. He seemed exhausted today, or simply exhausted by her. “Must you?”

“Yes, Father,” she replied in a defiant tone that did not feel like it was coming from her.

Is she finally growing a spine?

Grisham could no longer take it. He simply waved his daughter off.

This time, when Lady Elizabeth curtsied to Dominic, there was more enthusiasm. More spirit.

“It was lovely to see you again this morning, Your Grace.”

“The pleasure was mine, Lady Elizabeth.”

After she had left, some of the tension in Dominic’s shoulders eased. As if sensing the new mood, Simon and Olivia joined them at their table. Both of them had positively naughty grins.

“Have you slept well, Oakmere?” Simon asked cheerily, plopping down into the chair across from Dominic. “I want to know, because Olivia and I certainly did not.”

“Simon!” Olivia gasped, sounding scandalized, although her eyes were twinkling. She slapped her husband’s arm with a resounding thwack .

“What? I meant, um, that we were preoccupied by, uh, certain discussions,” Simon amended.

“Theological discussions,” Olivia added, blushing and giggling at the same time.

At that moment, Dominic merely wanted to be delivered from a fate worse than death—married couples who were publicly affectionate.

“You know, Oakmere, you really must?—”

“No. Whatever it is, no.”

“You haven’t even let me finish what I was about to say!” Simon complained.

“I know you, Darfield. So, save your breath,” Dominic scoffed as he downed the rest of his coffee.

“Fair enough, friend,” Simon said with a grin.

Nothing seemed to dampen the Earl’s mood, and his wife was just the same.

“I suppose you can’t blame His Grace, Simon. He has had enough on his plate this weekend already, especially from matchmakers.”

At that very moment, Grisham cleared his throat loudly, gave them a polite nod, and rose from his chair.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Would you want to join me for a ride across the estate? I have promised you all a stimulating weekend, after all.”

For the first time, Dominic agreed with Grisham completely. It was a much-needed reprieve.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, setting his cup down.

“And, my dear ladies,” Grisham said with a fawning smile, his tone oozing insincerity. “Please feel free to tour the galleries at your leisure. There are exquisite portraits, ones I am certain will delight you. A truly refined collection, if I may say so, worthy of your discerning eyes.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Lord Grisham!” Olivia exclaimed, clapping her hands together like a child.

Dominic wondered if any activity would ever take his mind off the confusing Lady Marianne.