Page 29 of My Secret Duke

J ustina’s coming-out was a much smaller affair than the grand ball that had been Olivia’s entrée into society. Being the second daughter had its disadvantages, but Justina didn’t seem to mind. After a final visit to Madame Annabelle’s, she had been both nervous and excited, but she said again that most of the people who loved her would be there to celebrate with her, and that was all that mattered. Gabriel and Vivienne had arrived from Grantham, although the younger girls had remained in Sussex with their governess.

“Antonia, Georgia, and Edwina were naturally upset,” Vivienne said after their greetings. “I promised them a special afternoon tea party when we get home again.”

Edwina would be happy with that. As long as her dolls were welcome.

The dowager had invited the usual crowd, as well as some other guests she felt could be relied upon to make an appearance. This far into the Season, every host or hostess was eager for as many guests as possible, just as everyone was hoping their event would be a huge success. Olivia was surprised that so many people had accepted what was a minor occasion on the social calendar. She couldn’t help but think that the Ashtons’ reputation for disgrace had played its part, and that tonight, their guests would be breathlessly expecting yet another scandal.

Well, for Justina’s sake, she hoped they would be disappointed.

There was one addition Olivia knew was for her benefit. Viscount Carey, a plump gentleman with a round face and beaming smile who, when introduced to her, blurted out, “But you are so pretty, Lady Olivia! Why have we not met before?”

“My granddaughter was away for part of the Season,” the dowager said coolly.

“Well, she is here now,” the viscount said, smiling as if his face might split in two. “Will you dance with me, Lady Olivia?”

“I would be honored.”

What else could she politely say? She suspected he was another suitor her grandmother had picked out for her, and any doubts she might have had vanished when the dowager waited until they were alone, and then whispered in her ear. “He is very busy socially, you would never be bored, and he is wealthy enough to indulge you. He has a house in the country, as well as a town house here in London. I think he is the ideal choice for you, Olivia.”

Olivia wanted to object, but Grandmama looked so pleased with herself. Was Viscount Carey really “the ideal choice”? Perhaps she might have thought so once, but now all she wanted to do was ask her grandmother to please stop. Not right this moment though, it would be selfish of her to make waves during Justina’s coming-out.

Gabriel and Justina danced the first dance, moving carefully about the room. Dancing had never come naturally to Gabriel, but he had practiced, and Justina was always graceful. Olivia found herself a little weepy at the sight of them. It brought back memories of her own debut and the overwhelming and rather na?ve emotions of that night. She had expected so much, hoped for even more, and then Ivo had held her in his arms.

It occurred to her to wonder what she would say if the dowager introduced Ivo to her as “the ideal choice.” She wouldn’t be trying to come up with excuses to avoid him. She would probably happily agree. A pity that was never going to happen.

Soon, the orchestra started up again, and everyone took to the floor. The prince was Olivia’s next partner, and she was rather surprised to find him so affable. She suspected that since the expectation of them making a match had been removed, they could both relax in each other’s company. Nikolai must have been under pressure too, worried about his future. Olivia was sure they would have been at daggers drawn within a day of the nuptials. And while Princess Olivia of Holtswig had a nice ring to it, she was not sorry to set that burden down.

Charles Wickley was her subsequent partner. As usual, he was easygoing and charming, but she noticed the glances he shared with Justina across the room. It was obvious Justina had her heart set on Charles, and although Ivo seemed to find him good company, she was still of two minds about his character. Remembering their joint venture at Cadieux’s, she asked him how the gaming club was going.

“Exceptionally well! I am thinking of hiring more staff.”

“I wonder if Gabriel misses it,” she mused. “It was part of his life for so long. A simpler life than being a duke, I suspect.”

Charles agreed. “I think he has more than enough to do at Grantham, and now he is happily married, he naturally wants to be with his wife rather than adding up gaming debts.”

“Is Mr. Hart here? He was supposed to attend tonight.”

She had learned from Gabriel that Freddie was on some assignment. His fighting days were over, but although Charles had offered him a place at Cadieux’s, as a stopgap, he had refused it.

“Freddie Hart is a law unto himself,” Charles replied with a grin. “He has something highly secretive in the offing.”

After Charles, Olivia danced with Harold Fitzsimmons, recently affianced to Lady Annette. Roberta had been allowed to attend tonight, just as Justina had attended Olivia’s coming-out, and it was a surprise to see her dancing with the prince. Olivia could see her sister’s mouth moving as she chattered on, while the prince wore a bemused expression, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with her. At one point, he even smiled, before he assumed that politely blank look, as if she had shocked him. Olivia was relieved when their dance finished without incident.

Viscount Carey came to claim Olivia for another dance, effusive in his flattery with everything from Olivia’s beauty to the supper selection. “The dowager duchess is a woman of refinement and taste,” he added with one of his big smiles. “You are lucky to have her watching over you and your family.”

Olivia supposed he was right, but sometimes she wished there was a little less watching and attention to detail on the dowager’s part.

Viscount Carey bowed as the music came to a stop, and asked if he could call upon her tomorrow. Olivia floundered, trying to find a reason to say no, aware of her grandmother’s eyes fixed on her from across the room. “Thank you,” she said at last. “I’ll be sure to tell Grandmama.”

He smiled, raised her hand to his lips, and left her feeling unsettled and anxious.

“May I?”

She turned to find Ivo holding out his hand, his green eyes reading her face and—she was certain—seeing everything. She felt herself relax as she slipped her gloved hand into his, although there was that tingle in her fingers at the contact, and that familiar warmth in her belly.

“No ill effects from this morning?”

His quiet murmur in her ear brought goose bumps to her skin. He was as handsome as ever in his formal evening wear, his face freshly shaven, although he was yet to return to his Brutus hairstyle—she was secretly glad about that. She liked his hair a little long. Apart from the hint of shadows under his green eyes, she would never have guessed he had been up before dawn this morning.

“Ill effects?” She wondered if he meant their kisses. Just remembering them caused her blood to heat up a notch.

His mouth kicked up in a smile as if he’d read her mind. Olivia turned away so that he couldn’t see her blush. “No ill effects at all,” she said airily.

“So, do you want to do it again?”

This time when she turned to him, her confusion must have been evident.

He laughed softly. “I meant race me on Arrow.”

Of course he had meant that. She schooled her features. “No, but thank you.”

He squeezed her fingers in his. “I am teasing, Olivia. As exciting as this morning was, I am happy to wait until you recover before our next dare.”

The idea of them indulging in another challenge was exciting, yes, but… Marry Ivo , Roberta had said. Why did those two words seem to be lodged in her head? As far as she knew, he didn’t want her as his wife. The only time he had proposed to her was to “fix” a scandal he had created. Hardly a wild and desperate declaration of love. And yet when she remembered the park this morning and their passionate kisses, the heat between them, it couldn’t be denied that their relationship had grown beyond friendship.

Miss Fenwick was here somewhere. She and Ivo had danced earlier, and Olivia had tried not to watch, but she couldn’t seem to help it. The idea that he might marry Miss Fenwick felt real. It could happen. Any chance of one night in Ivo’s arms was already slipping through her fingers, and suddenly, she couldn’t bear it. Ivo arched his eyebrows. “What is the matter? You look quite green.”

She blurted it out. “Grandmama has found another suitor for me. Viscount Carey.”

Ivo’s eyes narrowed. “Has she now?”

“She won’t stop, I know she won’t, and if I tell her I don’t want to marry the viscount, she will only find someone else.”

“Indeed.” His gaze was watchful. “Why don’t you want to marry Viscount Carey? He’s a pleasant enough fellow, and he’s seen everywhere. His wife would live a life of dissipation.”

“Why don’t you marry him then?” Olivia said sourly. “I’m just tired of being trotted out and shown off in the hope that someone with the right amount of yearly income will ignore all my faults and offer for me.”

He leaned into her again, his warm breath making her want to shiver. Her skin felt so sensitive. She could feel the heat of his hands through their gloves. “I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about it.”

Perhaps this was the moment for honesty and boldness. She needed him to understand her feelings. She needed to encourage him to agree to her challenge.

“I worry that whoever we marry, we will drift apart. We won’t be friends anymore.”

His dance step stuttered. Ivo was never clumsy. “Olivia…”

She bit her lip. “And I worry that being friends precludes other things.”

“Like?” But there was a spark in his green eyes, fixed so intently on hers.

Olivia took a rallying breath. “Kissing. Being with you in… in the bedchamber.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again. She had shocked him into silence, but she couldn’t stop now.

“You were talking about another dare,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I dare you, Ivo. I dare you to show me how a man is with a woman.”

He dragged his gaze from hers with an effort and, tucking her hand into his elbow, began to walk toward the supper room, only to diverge into the study at the last moment. He closed the door.

Olivia had taken a step back, a seesawing mixture of anticipation and trepidation humming through her veins. He was watching her, and there was a charge between them—like lightning flashing in a stormy sky.

“Come here,” he said, his voice gravelly, and held out his arms.

All those doubts that had held her back slipped away. She went to him, and he folded her close. As he gazed down at her, she saw such tenderness in his expression that it melted her.

“Ivo, I want—”

“Hush,” he said, and bent his head. Their mouths fused. Heat licked over her skin, and with a soft moan she tried to get closer, standing on her tiptoes. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers tugging at his hair in a manner that probably hurt, but he didn’t complain. He took a step toward the desk with her still in his arms, and then he was lifting her so that she was perched upon it. His hands slid down over her shoulders and her arms, until he was holding her hands.

“Don’t only selfish cads kiss young ladies at private gatherings?” he asked, paraphrasing her words back to her from that painful day when he came to propose. There was a lift to his eyebrow that demanded an answer.

“Would you still be a cad if I had asked you to kiss me?”

He grinned. “Probably.”

“I expect you have kissed a great many ladies,” she said primly, but her heart was beating hard.

He smoothed a lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear, and then brushed his lips across her cheek. “No one who matters,” he said quietly. He kissed the tip of her nose, and then her eyelids, tenderly. He ducked his head and kissed her neck, making her arch upward with a shiver.

Olivia wanted to say more , she wanted to ask him how many women he had bedded, but she knew she would sound ridiculously jealous. She was jealous.

“I have never wanted to kiss any man but you,” she said instead, her cheeks hot. “Well, any real man. I have fantasies sometimes.”

He brushed his lips against her collarbone. “I’d like to hear about these fantasies.”

“I thought you were going to kiss me. Properly, I mean.”

He straightened and skimmed his lips against hers, a barely-there kiss. He paused and frowned. “This feels dangerous,” he admitted. “I could lose control.”

“I want you to,” she whispered, reaching up for him.

With a groan, he sank into her, his mouth warm and desperate against hers. Olivia felt as if she was now caught up in the storm, being whirled and tumbled about. She tried to get closer to him, because this wasn’t enough. What would his naked skin feel like against hers? His body heavy on hers? Her emotions surged up, and she knew that whatever happened to her and Ivo in the future, she wanted to experience this passion he was offering her. She was not going to change her mind.

“I want you to take me as a man takes a woman.” The words rushed out of her. “I want you to show me what it’s like to be with you.”

He stopped kissing her and lifted his head. “Olivia?” he said softly, and it was a question.

“I dare you!” Her voice rose. She was shaky, but she meant it. The thought of lying in bed with Viscount Carey popped into her mind, and she was even more certain that whatever happened, whoever she married, it was Ivo she wanted as her lover.

There was a loud knock on the door, and guiltily, they sprang apart. Olivia hopped down to the floor and smoothed her gown with trembling hands. She wondered if her lips were as red and swollen as they felt. Before she could even say “enter,” the door opened, and Roberta peered inside.

“There you are,” she said with a knowing smirk.

“Is Grandmama—” Olivia began uneasily.

“No, she is too busy being astounded, as are we all. You will never guess what just happened.”

Olivia and Ivo exchanged a glance. “What?” Olivia asked.

“You know that gentleman I saw with Mama in the park? He’s just arrived, and she has introduced him to us as her future husband. What do you think of that?”

“She’s getting married?” Olivia tried not to shriek.

“Yes. His name is Lord Harrowby, and he knew her before she married Papa… Well, not married, but you know what I mean.”

“Why does something scandalous always have to happen?” Olivia wailed.

Ivo snorted a laugh, and Roberta chuckled as they followed her back to the ballroom.

She could see at a glance that it was in uproar. Humber was trying to create order, with the dowager at his side, while the guests didn’t seem to know whether congratulations were in order or not.

“What on earth…?” Justina came to join them, gripping Olivia’s arm painfully. “Why is she doing this? It’s my coming-out!”

Evidently, Felicia had ascended the dais where the orchestra had been performing and was now hogging everyone’s attention. She wasn’t wearing one of her black widow’s gowns, but a lemon-colored one that must have been made for her new, more slender figure. She had a smug smile on her face, as if she was pleased with the reaction to her announcement.

A gentleman stood beside her, his arm about her, frowning in disapproval at the cacophony. Roberta nudged Olivia, her face alight with glee, and Ivo looked amused too. It seemed to be only Olivia and Justina who did not think this was funny. “We are marrying at once, and then Lord H is taking me for a long honeymoon on the continent.” Felicia looked even more satisfied with the uproar this caused. Of course, she could have told her family privately, prepared them, but instead, she had wanted to create an embarrassing scene. She did not care that it was her daughter’s special day—but she had never cared about any of them.

The dowager was busy trying to undo the damage, coolly congratulating her daughter-in-law, as if she had been privy to the news all along.

“At least she won’t be sneaking about Grantham, making trouble,” Roberta said.

“I wonder who paid for her new dress?” Justina added.

“I did.”

They turned to find Gabriel standing behind them, Vivienne at his side.

“She asked me, and I said yes. Told me some story about wanting to look her best for her darling Justina. I’m glad I did now. She would probably have appeared in her crow outfit and announced my pinchpenny ways to all and sundry.”

Olivia noticed Viscount Carey looking on with that beaming smile, as if he was enjoying every moment of it. Not like the prince then, who had once more vacated the ballroom.

“There is never a dull moment with the Ashtons,” Ivo said.

She met his eyes, and saw the sparkling laughter in their green depths. He was amused, but not at her. He was laughing with her, and suddenly, she felt better. If he was able to shrug off what promised to be a red-hot subject for gossip, then why shouldn’t she?

“We aim to please,” she replied.

He was still watching her, and it was as if they were all alone among the chattering and outraged guests. She was finding it hard to breathe, anticipation making her a little dizzy.

Olivia wasn’t going to change her mind about their dare, and from the growing smile on his handsome face, neither was he.