Page 24 of My Secret Duke

O livia was out of sorts. Not that she wasn’t happy for Annette and Harold, who seemed ridiculously in love, and no doubt planning their next romance novel—although hopefully they would keep Vivienne out of it. She was happy for them because happiness seemed in short supply in the world she lived in, and it was good to see that some people at least could capture that elusive emotion.

And yet she felt restless and irritable.

She could not complain about her time in London so far. She had had invitations, and she was grateful. And she had played her part, pretending to be perfectly at ease despite sometimes encountering knowing looks and spiteful whispers. She had wanted to complete her Season, and she was accomplishing that. It would be better once Justina could accompany her, but that would not happen until her sister was “out.” Not long now though. The preparations were in place, which was why their grandmother was so tired she was asleep in the Monteiths’ armchair. Felicia had not lifted a finger to help, but sadly, none of her daughters were surprised by that.

Olivia sat down at the piano and wished she could play. Perhaps music would have been a solace at a time like this. But she had never learned, none of them had, and it wasn’t one of the things Vivienne or her grandmother could fix without a lot of practice. At least after Vivienne’s lessons, Olivia could truthfully say she painted… “a little.”

The cozy murmur of Ivo’s tête-à-tête with Miss Fenwick had reached her even here. Olivia had thought the piano would be far enough away, but perhaps her ears were attuned to his voice. Adelina had said Miss Fenwick was an old school friend, but from the way Ivo’s mother was watching her son and the girl, Olivia thought she was hoping something more would develop between them.

Which was why she was over here at the piano. She had discovered she could not abide the thought of Ivo falling in love with a woman who wasn’t her. This realization had not happened in a heartbeat. It was something that had been growing inside her for some time. She knew her jealousy was at odds with everything that Olivia had mapped out for her future, but she couldn’t help it. Since their first meeting at her coming-out when she had fallen under his spell, their relationship had been like a golden light in a dark room, and she a very foolish moth. Even when she clearly saw all of his faults, there was a strong attraction between them. A closeness and understanding she had felt for no other man. Now, despite the changes she had been through, the growing up she had done, she was still aware of his allure. And they were friends again, and that was a wonderful thing, and she should want him to find someone who could make him happy. But she didn’t. Seeing him smiling and whispering with Miss Fenwick did not give her an ounce of pleasure.

Was Miss Fenwick to be the next Duchess of Northam? Perhaps Olivia really was the horrible person her sisters thought her to be, if she preferred Ivo to be miserable like her rather than find contentment with another woman. Because she was miserable. Miserable at the very thought of being married to Mr. Scott or some other suitable gentleman, while forever yearning for Ivo.

Scars from her unhappy childhood had driven her to seek security and stability, and yet the idea of being held hostage to her past, as if she was some sort of martyr, was equally appalling. Olivia had been searching for her path in life, and she had thought she’d found it. A sensible path. A boring path. Marry Mr. Scott or someone like him and go quietly into domestic drudgery. She’d be able to help her sisters, but it turned out they didn’t want her help. Even Gabriel had advised her against marrying someone she didn’t love, and he should know.

Acknowledging the truth of her feelings, of her nature, was an immense relief. She knew that eventually, some wealthy gentleman would come along, and she would not be able to find fault with him, and she would probably have to marry him. Ivo might be married by then too, to some rich miss. But that was in the future, and right now, she needed to be herself again. The girl Ivo had told her he knew so well…

“Are you going to play a tune?”

That familiar voice made Olivia jump. She took a shaky breath, ignoring the flutter in her chest. He couldn’t read her mind, could he? “Unfortunately, no,” she said calmly, resting her fingers on the keys. “What about you, Northam? Can you play?”

Ivo shrugged. “A little,” he said, which made her laugh. “What?” he demanded, and this time, she did look. His green eyes were sparkling, and his lips were curled in a mocking little smile above his smoothly shaven jaw and his perfectly tied cravat.

“You can’t play at all, can you?” she said.

He shrugged. “No, not a single note. My sisters can, but I never learned. And before you say it, yes, I was too busy riding horses and racing my curricle.”

Olivia shook her head. “What is this fascination with horses? I will never understand it.”

Ivo followed her glance to the prince and his two companions. “Harold can sympathize with you, I think. You will have to ask Roberta to teach you so that you can hold your own.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Olivia retorted. “Big, smelly beasts liable to nip your fingers even when you are handing them a juicy apple. Not that I am afraid of them,” she denied quickly.

“Ah.” He didn’t appear to know what to say to that. He glanced back toward the others, and Olivia wondered if he was keen to return to Miss Fenwick. The thought made her prattle on, just to keep him by her side.

“Roberta seems very fond of them. Horses, I mean. Whenever she is melancholy, she goes out riding and comes back in a better mood. Justina is the same with her books. Edwina with her dolls. I wish there was something I looked forward to.” Her voice drifted off.

His gaze sharpened, as if he’d suddenly become aware of her low spirits. That knowing look in his eyes made her feel exposed and uncomfortable. That he should see her so clearly! But then he always had. Before she could draw her prickly defenses around her, he spoke again.

“If I wasn’t a changed man, I’d…” He bit his lip.

“You’d what?” She stared back at him.

He looked over his shoulder again, and, frustrated, Olivia hurried to recapture his attention. “What were you going to say, Ivo? What would you do if you weren’t a changed man?”

Ivo raised his eyebrows, studying her. “I would give you a challenge. A dare.”

She tried to read his expression. “But we have already dared each other, have we not? There was Lord Hollingsworth and the girl you asked to dance.”

“Rather lukewarm dares, Olivia,” he said with a wry smile. “Not the sort I used to make.”

It was true, he had been careful with her, heedful not to do anything that might damage her reputation. She had enjoyed their games, yes, but they hadn’t exactly gotten her heart pumping with excitement.

“What were you going to say? I want to hear this risky challenge, Ivo.”

“Do you?” he asked quietly. “Very well. I was going to dare you to a race. With horses.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “A curricle race?”

“No, a horse race. Through Hyde Park.”

Her laugh was half shock and half excitement. Her heart was pumping now, all of those feelings she had ignored for so long rushing back like a river in flood. It felt… wonderful .

“Impossible!” she declared.

“Why? Are you afraid? You just said you weren’t. It would have to be in the early morning with few people about, and it would be a race between just the two of us.” He dropped his voice and leaned down, his arm resting on top of the piano.

Olivia couldn’t help noticing his hair had grown out of the severe cut he had worn at Grantham, and the ends were beginning to curl again. The waves looked soft and silky, and she squeezed her hands together, resisting the urge to reach out and touch.

“Come, Olivia, are you not even a little bit tempted? You know you want to beat me. You always want to. What about the archery contest? Do you only accept my riskier challenges when you know you can win?”

“Nonsense,” she said automatically. “And this is a hypothetical dare, because you are a changed man.”

“I am as changed as you want me to be,” he replied cryptically. “Do you really want me to be browbeaten like Lord Hollingsworth? Or that other smug fellow with the monstrous eyebrows?” He moved his own brows up and down.

Olivia snorted an unladylike laugh.

“You want the excitement, the risk. I know you do. You thrive on it. Let me give that to you. Tomorrow, some eligible gentleman with his pockets full of gold might sweep you off your feet, and you’ll be gone. So let’s enjoy ourselves while we can.”

It was very much what she had been thinking herself, and she wondered if he could read her mind after all.

She pictured herself riding a horse through Hyde Park with Ivo at her side. It didn’t sound all that terrible. Lots of ladies rode in Hyde Park with gentlemen of their acquaintance. But a race … What would her grandmother say? It didn’t bear thinking … Just as well it wasn’t going to happen.

And yet, as soon as she reminded herself this was all make-believe, she felt her spirits sink again.

Unaware of her inner conflict, Ivo’s knowing green eyes slid up and down her, and he said thoughtfully, “You would need a disguise. Just in case one of those annoying pamphleteers was up and about despite the early hour.”

“You make it sound almost possible,” she said, a little catch in her voice.

He leaned closer, his breath warm on her cheek. “It is possible. Anything is possible, Olivia, if you embrace it.”

So tempting. As much as she enjoyed their friendship, Olivia still longed for something more. That spark that seemed to light up inside her whenever they were together.

“I miss the old Ivo. Sometimes,” she blurted.

“Do you?”

He wasn’t looking over his shoulder now. He was entirely focused on Olivia.

“Sometimes life seems very boring without you.”

He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “Say yes, Olivia. Let us cut through those restrictions society and family have placed upon us and pretend we are free to do as we please, for just one day.”

Her heart was beating so fast and hard in her breast that she put her hand to it, as if to hold it in. If she was in disguise, who would know? Only Ivo. This would be something far more exciting than anything she had done for ages. She shouldn’t do it, but she wanted to. Desperately. Surely she deserved one day of freedom out of all the days she had tried so hard to be good?

“When would this ridiculous dare take place?” she asked as evenly as she could manage.

He stiffened, suddenly alert, as if that was the last thing he had expected. His smile was dazzling and slightly predatory. “This day a fortnight hence. Five o’clock in the morning, meet at Hyde Park Corner and—why not?—race along Rotten Row. I don’t know if your intentions are genuine, Olivia, or if you’re playing games with me. But if you want to go ahead with this, then a simple nod to me the next time we meet will be sufficient to let me know.”

When she had nothing to say to that, he gave a polite bow and walked away. Olivia watched him return to the others, her mind still a chaotic jumble. Miss Fenwick looked up at him with a smile as he stopped by her chair.

Olivia had sworn to live her own life, but why did it have to be a life that made her want to scream at the tedium? The prospect of racing Ivo and beating him at something he considered his strong suit made her senses come alive. They were buzzing, but she tried to think calmly.

What if she was caught? What would happen then? Banishment to Grantham probably. This was her last chance, and if she went ahead and indulged in the sort of reckless behavior she had vowed to correct in herself, then she only had herself to blame.

The alternative? Stability, marrying sensibly, playing the bountiful sister… A boring life with a man she couldn’t love. Well, all of that was still ahead of her in some form or another. She was not wealthy enough to travel the world or become an eccentric spinster thumbing her nose at convention. And if she was honest, she wouldn’t want to. She was conventional, in the sense that she wanted love and marriage and a family.

But before she bowed to the inevitable, she wanted some fun.

There was another problem, and it was a huge impediment: she could barely ride. Certainly not well enough to race someone down Rotten Row! Was it an insurmountable problem? Many would say it was, but they were not Olivia Ashton.

Roberta could ride. Olivia sometimes thought her sister was half horse! Roberta could teach her the rudiments of horsemanship, or at least enough so that she would not fall off and make a complete fool of herself. And Roberta could be persuaded to keep it a secret, or, if necessary, be bribed to do so.

A fortnight hence was also Justina’s coming-out, but that was in the evening, and she would race Ivo at five o’clock in the morning. Plenty of time to recover. No one would be the wiser. It was feasible.

She admitted then that this pretense at weighing up the pros and cons was just that: a pretense. She was going to accept. Just imagining the look on his face when she joined him at Hyde Park Corner—the amazement and delight . Ivo wanted her to say yes, he wanted their relationship to return to what it had been in the beginning. And if she won, he would find pleasure in that and tell her so. He might even kiss her.

Olivia’s heart gave a heavy knock against her ribs. The soft press of his lips, the warmth of his breath, and the hard shape of his body against hers. The very thought of it made her quite dizzy. Her fingers itched to slide through the hair at his nape, while the scent of his pomade only heightened her longing.

If you want to go ahead with this, then a simple nod to me the next time we meet will be sufficient to let me know.

Olivia scanned the room.

Ivo was standing with the others, busy smiling and chatting as if he had forgotten all about her. He probably thought she would refuse, or make some paltry excuse to wriggle out of it. He’d probably given up on her altogether and was about to dare Miss Fenwick to do something outrageous instead.

At that moment, the dowager, still sleeping in her chair, woke with a start—which everyone pretended not to notice. In a loud voice, she announced that it was time they were leaving. Obediently, Olivia hurried to her side, but as they donned their outdoor clothing while the coach was brought around, she finally caught Ivo’s eye. He was watching her intently, and she read a degree of doubt in those green eyes. Had he changed his mind?

She nodded her head firmly, just once, and watched his eyes widen and his mouth curve up in a wicked grin. She had surprised him, but she had pleased him too.

As they made their way out to the coach, her heart continued to beat that wild tattoo. No backing out now. The Olivia of recent months would have been shocked at such an irresponsible decision, but this Olivia wasn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath of the cool evening air and felt a wonderful sense of freedom. As if she had thrown aside the expectations that had recently plagued her. As if she had burned her bridges and said to hell with everything. As if she was herself again.

Just for a little while.