Page 12 of My Secret Duke

E xcept she didn’t.

Furiously, Olivia kicked at some innocent flowers encroaching on the garden path and strode on toward the house. It occurred to her that she should look for the prince, and repair whatever damage she had done by sending him off with Roberta, but the thought of making polite conversation made her want to scream. The rivalry between herself and Ivo had grown more intense the longer the contest had gone on. It didn’t even make sense why she had wanted that victory so much. She had felt as if nothing else mattered. And he hadn’t even been apologetic about beating her. He’d laughed in her face and suggested she needed to practice before their next challenge. It seemed that these days, they could not be together without trying to injure each other with their eyes and their words.

Olivia clenched her hands and wished she could scream. The man was infuriating. It was his fault she was behaving in a manner she knew was unbecoming. Right now, she needed to be on her best behavior for Prince Nikolai, and instead, she had palmed him off on her sister. What was it about Ivo that made her act so thoughtlessly?

But worst of all, and even more confusing, she had felt more alive during their game than she had felt for ages. As if he had lit a spark inside her and it was burning bright.

Someone was hurrying up behind her, and with an effort, she arranged her face into a more ladylike expression and turned, only to find it was Ivo again. She scowled.

“What do you want?”

He laughed, as if her foul temper amused him. He didn’t seem to care if she was out of sorts, he simply accepted that as a normal part of her character—he accepted her —and suddenly, she felt as if she might burst into tears.

“I was going to suggest we play that game of billiards we never finished,” he said cheerfully.

Despite knowing that agreeing to such a thing would be a terrible mistake, Olivia hesitated. What she should do was go and find the prince. But Ivo was grinning at her, daring her, as if he knew how conflicted she was. How infuriated , so that she could hardly think straight. He sent her emotions into a topsy-turvy spin, and she needed to stop it right now.

“No,” she bit out.

He looked surprised. Had he really expected her to agree?

“Did you listen to me at all last night?” she said, trying to keep her voice low and level. “I can’t risk another scandal. My future depends upon it.”

His green eyes searched hers, and she almost believed him to be sincere. “Olivia, you are making a mistake. You are trying to turn yourself into someone who isn’t remotely like you.”

“How do you know what I’m like?”

“I do know. We have a great deal in common.”

She blinked up at him, feeling that odd, teary emotion again.

“Perhaps you do,” she said, her voice scratchy. “Perhaps I am a little like you. But I can’t let that side of me win, Ivo. You must see that. I must fight it. I can’t let my family… my sisters… myself down.”

His mouth quirked up into a humorless smile. “And you think marrying Prince Nikolai will give you everything you want?”

“Of course.” Could he not see that? “A title, wealth, an entrée into the best houses. Sometimes I remember my life here at Grantham, before Grandmama, before Gabriel… We were hungry, Ivo, we were cold. There was no one who cared. Who knows what would have happened to us if they hadn’t come to our rescue? I don’t want that time back again.”

He took an impulsive step toward her, as if to comfort her, but Olivia took a step back. She shook her head.

“Olivia…”

But she was already hurrying along the path, putting as much distance between them as she could. This was not the time to be close to the man who made her feel so confused and vulnerable. It was far too dangerous.

Once Olivia had tidied herself, washed her face, and gone downstairs again, she found luncheon surprisingly enjoyable. She believed she had redeemed herself with the prince, who had seemed a bit wary of her when they first sat down but was now all smiles and flattering glances. Perhaps turning him down for that walk in the garden had been a good thing—not many people opted to do other than what he wanted, so her refusal to stroll with him made her unique.

“The countryside around Grantham is very pretty,” he said, with a glance at her. “But I think you will find Holtswig superior. If… when you visit.”

That sounded promising despite his haughtiness. Olivia smiled back. “I would enjoy that, sir.”

No more was said, the subject was changed, but Olivia caught her grandmother’s approving gaze and felt very pleased with herself.

Vivienne asked her to help with the decorations in the afternoon, and they swathed the staircase and doorways with greenery and took down the draperies over the windows, shook them out, and then replaced them. The orchestra Grandmama had arranged for the occasion was practicing, its music drifting through the house.

“This is a great deal of work for a newlywed,” Olivia said with a glance at her sister-in-law, who was trying not to sneeze. “Aren’t you a little daunted?”

Vivienne thought for a moment and then smiled. “Not at all,” she said. “Well, perhaps a little, but I love being part of your family. It was awful after the lessons were finished and I no longer was. I missed you all so much, and I am so glad that now I belong to you for real.”

Olivia shook her head. “How can you say that?” she said in disbelief. “I would like nothing more than to escape Grantham forever.”

Vivienne seemed to be considering whether she meant it. “You’d miss your sisters,” she replied at last.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Olivia declared fiercely.

“Not even Justina?”

Justina was still sulking from last night, when Olivia had dragged her away from Charles’s kisses, and so far, Olivia’s attempts to repair their relationship had been rebuffed. Just when Olivia needed her favorite sister most, Justina had absented herself.

Vivienne broke into her reverie. “Do you really want to marry Prince Nikolai? You know you don’t have to. Gabriel would never allow your grandmother to force you into a marriage you did not want.”

Olivia looked at her in surprise. Surely Vivienne wasn’t agreeing with Ivo? “But I do want to marry him. Don’t you see? It would be the solution to everything.”

And yet Vivienne still looked as if she wasn’t convinced. “Surely not everything?”

Olivia ignored her question and asked one of her own. “What is it like, to be married?”

Vivienne smiled in a soft, dreamy sort of way. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “Well, it is if you love the person you are married to.”

“Not everyone can find a person they love.”

“You won’t if you don’t look.”

Olivia thought about responding, but what was the point. Vivienne didn’t understand, and Olivia was tired of explaining. Instead, she suggested they begin replacing the candles in their sconces, and the two of them started their new task in silence.

Olivia refused to feel depressed. A moment ago, she had been full of hope for her chosen future. She reminded herself that a great many people didn’t love their marriage partners. They married because of other reasons, and surely it was better not to love your partner too much anyway. There were just too many ways to hurt one’s beloved and make them miserable, and Olivia had already seen enough of that in her life. Her grandmother had the right idea. Marry for position and wealth, and then live in comfort for the rest of your life.

Then why did the words ring so hollow? Why did she feel as if she had somehow or other stepped off onto the wrong path?

Supper was served on a tray to her room. She was already dressed for the ball because the maid was run off her feet, and Olivia had offered to be first. Her gown was white, plain but elegant, one of those made by Madame Annabelle, the modiste for Olivia’s London Season. Due to that Season being cut short, it had never been worn. Her hair was dressed simply too, with some fresh flowers tucked in among the dark locks, while a single strand of pearls encircled her throat. Unlike her coming-out in May, tonight was all about Gabriel and Vivienne, and she was quite happy to stand back and allow them to be the center of attention.

Once the maid had gone, she took a bite of her supper, and had barely swallowed the first mouthful when there was a tap on the door. Before she could call out, a note was pushed beneath it, and light footsteps hurried away.

Olivia knelt to retrieve the slip of paper and opened it.

Meet me at the archery targets at seven o’clock. I have something of great importance to ask you. And it was signed, Niki .

Niki? As in Prince Nikolai? But why…? And then she read it again. I have something of great importance to ask you.

Could this be what she had been hoping for? He had been very attentive at lunch. And yet it seemed too sudden. Too soon. And definitely too casual for the prince. His proposal would be formal, a stilted recital of his desire to make her his wife, and what he expected from her. Olivia read the note again. She did not even know Nikolai’s writing to compare. And yet why would someone else send her such a note? Could her refusal to stroll with the prince this morning really have stung him into action? Olivia wished she could talk to Justina, ask what she thought, but Justina wasn’t speaking to her.

She had to go. It was already nearly seven o’clock, and the ball was due to start at eight. She could not be late for that, but if Prince Nikolai—or Niki, as she must learn to call him—was asking her to marry him, then what would being late to the ball matter?

Her mind made up, she found her cloak and wrapped it about her. She tucked her gloves into the pocket just in case she couldn’t return to her room in time. But surely she wouldn’t be gone that long? Not that anyone would notice, they were all so busy. As she quickly descended the stairs, she tried to ignore the slightly sick feeling in her stomach. Olivia prepared a story about needing to find a maid to sew on a button, but it was unnecessary—she didn’t meet anyone. Soon she was making her way along the path through the garden in the direction of the targets. The sky was turning pink and mauve, and as she passed through the perennial border with its scented flowers, there were moths flitting from plant to plant. A bird shrieked and flew up into its tree, which gave her a start. There was another rustle from somewhere behind her, but when she spun around and peered into the shadows, there was nothing to be seen. A fox, she thought, or a hare.

The fright had made her breath come quickly, and she wondered again whether she was doing the right thing. Too late to change her mind now, she was nearly at the archery targets, and yet she lingered. It was as if… as if she didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to take that irrevocable step. Which was ridiculous because marriage to the prince was now her goal. Love was all very well, but Olivia was not Vivienne.

Quickening her steps, she turned the bend in the path. Nearly there now. Despite the shadows that stretched long across the lawn where the archery targets were still set up, she could see a figure standing there. Waiting.

Niki?

Her steps stuttered as the man turned to face her. Because this wasn’t Prince Nikolai after all. It was the Duke of Northam.