Page 4 of My Secret Duke

Grantham Estate

Sussex

O livia finished dressing and went to the window. Mist engulfed her view of the park and its trees so that she could barely see anything in front of her, just blurred shapes in the swirling white. It felt strangely like her current situation.

True to her word, the dowager duchess had packed her granddaughters up and moved them away from London. It was a strategic move, to allow some of the gossip and rumors to die down, but Olivia wondered if their relocation was permanent. She remembered when she had first learned they were going to London where she was to make her debut. She had been anxious and a little lost in the unfamiliar world of the ton. Now she had tasted life as a duke’s sister, and been dressed in pretty clothes and danced in grand ballrooms with handsome gentlemen… Well, it hadn’t turned out to be so bad after all.

Olivia was torn.

She had never wanted the structured existence her grandmother planned for her—marriage to a suitable gentleman, children, and a life where appearance was everything—but she couldn’t see an alternative. She didn’t want the unfettered freedom she’d had before either. While it was nice to do as one wanted, it was difficult to be truly free without the funds to buy food and other essentials. Life at Grantham had been a misery until Gabriel came along. Couldn’t she find an indulgent and wealthy gentleman who would give her leeway to enjoy herself? Wasn’t it possible to be independent and yet be bound by all the rules that her position in the ton brought with it? And where was love in this equation? The unfortunate truth was, for women in Olivia’s problematic position, love was never the most important component of marriage.

Olivia left her bedchamber and made her way toward the stairs, tiptoeing past her mother’s rooms. There wasn’t a sound from behind the closed door, and there had been no appearance by Felicia when they arrived yesterday. As far as Olivia knew, none of her sisters had ventured nor been invited into their mother’s lair. Felicia had become a ghost that existed only in memory.

As soon as they had arrived at Grantham, Roberta had hurried down to the stables, happier than Olivia had seen her for months. Justina had taken a book out into the rose garden, something about a Wicked Prince with a lurid description inside the cover. Edwina was playing with her shabby collection of dolls—Grandmama hadn’t let her take them all to London—and who knew where Georgia and Antonia were. Olivia wasn’t even certain where the dowager was. Was she already plotting her next move in restoring the Ashton family to prominence and respectability, or had she given up on her dreams? She had been furious when word came from Gabriel of his reckless pursuit of Vivienne Tremeer, but the anger had faded, and now she seemed downcast. Her grandmother was such an indomitable figure, Olivia was not used to seeing her like this, and knowing it was partially her fault didn’t help.

Is that the sort of man you want to marry? Someone who will make you a laughingstock with his antics?

She cringed every time she remembered her grandmother’s words.

By the time Olivia had hurriedly finished her coffee and a piece of toast, the mist was gone, dispersed by the sun. She thought a walk might lift her spirits and set off through the woods along the path to the pond where she and her sisters had been splashing about, naked, on that fateful day when the dowager came upon them. Their father’s death had brought his mother back to Grantham, and Olivia had never forgotten the expression on her grandmother’s face—a mix of fury and horror and dismay. Seeing the girls running so wild and unsupervised had been the beginning of her plans to set things right.

Grandmama had blamed Felicia. The two women had never liked each other, and the pond incident had only made things worse. The dowager would never forgive her daughter-in-law for neglecting her granddaughters, and if Felicia remained in her rooms forever more, the dowager would probably be ecstatic.

“Olivia!”

She sighed as she turned. Trust Edwina to crash into her peaceful solitude. All the same, it was a relief for her not to have to think anymore. Olivia felt as if she had thought enough to last her a lifetime.

“I saw you from the window!” Her youngest sister had an armful of dolls in varying states of undress. Her happy smile turned into a frown. “Georgia says dolls are silly, and I am too old for them.”

“Georgia doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Georgia was the outlier in the family, or perhaps being mean was the only role left to her. Whatever the reason for her unpopular behavior, she seemed to relish it.

“Are we going down to the pond?” Edwina asked in a hushed voice, her big blue eyes full of excitement.

“We can. As long as you don’t go into the water,” Olivia added hastily.

Edwina seemed about to argue, eyeing Olivia a moment as if trying to read her mood. Whatever she saw convinced her not to push her luck. “We can’t go into the water, I know that. Perhaps we can walk around the edges and see if there are frogs? Robbie says we should catch one and keep it.”

Olivia shuddered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea either. If Roberta wants a frog, then let her catch it.”

They set off through the dappled woods in companionable silence, broken now and again by Edwina chattering with her dolls. Olivia noticed that one of them was now called Vivienne. Her brother’s beloved had been an instant hit with the girls, and it was obvious she made Gabriel happy. Although Vivienne was the daughter of a baronet, she was also poor, with a scandal in her past, and the dowager would never have chosen her for her grandson. Fortunately, Gabriel had had other ideas.

They reached the pond, and Olivia found a flattish rock to sit on while Edwina scampered about. Once she tuned out her sister’s chatter, it was still peaceful, and her thoughts turned down that well-worn path, at the end of which was the Duke of Northam.

In particular that awkward, painful meeting at Ashton House. When he had asked her to marry him, he had seemed to think he was performing a heroic act by rescuing her from the scandal he had helped create. Yes, her behavior at the Elphinstones’ had been reprehensible, but he had encouraged it. There had been a moment, a tiny spark of hope, when she had asked him if he could change… That hope had died when he’d laughed. Because why should he change for her? He saw her as the sort of girl who would join him in his insane antics, and then thumb her nose at the gossips. And Ivo could behave like that because he had nothing to lose.

It was different for Olivia. She had a great deal to lose. She must not let her heart rule her head, not if she wanted to take her rightful place in the world. She needed to stick rigidly to the rules. That was the weight of being the eldest and—now that Gabriel had burned his bridges by running after Vivienne—the only one who could restore the family’s good name, according to her grandmother. She had her five sisters to think of—they needed her leadership and the financial security her marriage would bring to the Ashtons. She just had to be clever. Marrying Ivo would not be clever, it would be like someone with a sweet tooth marrying a dessert chef. The two of them together could only make things worse for her family. Olivia had found Ivo’s impulsiveness irresistible. Yes, there had been moments when they were alone together or danced together, and it had felt… well, perfect. But then there were the times when he fed into her worst impulses. Her goal must be a secure place in the ton, a wealthy husband who could afford to buy her fashionable clothes and launch her sisters into polite society when the time came. So that none of them would have to worry about being poor and abandoned ever again.

She closed her eyes. His face, when she had refused him, was suddenly very clear to her. It had been as if no one had ever said no to him before, and perhaps they hadn’t. He acted the fool, but Olivia knew he was not a fool—behind that handsome face was a clever brain, if only he would use it. Her grandmother seemed to think he was disreputable. Like a coin with two faces. One side, the charming, handsome gentleman who was such good company and to whom every day was a new adventure. And then, when she turned the coin over and looked at the other side… Never knowing from one day to the next what foolishness he might get up to, not being able to rely on him or trust him, the mockery and pity in the eyes of those who were meant to be her peers.

It was not the sort of life she could allow herself, and she should think herself lucky to have escaped in time. If her heart was a little bruised, then at least it was intact.

Dinner at Grantham was a formal affair. The dowager sat at the head of the table, the lines on her face deeply drawn, showing every year of her age. Their current situation had not prevented her from dressing for the occasion, and her black silk gown rustled as she sat down, while her diamond necklace caught the light of the tall candelabra upon the long dining table. The girls followed her lead, sitting in somber silence, and when their grandmother gave a nod to Humber for the meal to be served, the servants went about their tasks with quiet competence.

Olivia dipped her spoon into the bowl of thin chicken broth and was just about to lift it to her lips when there was a gasp. She looked up. Her grandmother was staring at the doorway behind her eldest granddaughter, her expression one of consternation and dismay.

Olivia turned her head to see what new calamity had befallen them.

A woman stood there with her gaze fixed on the dowager as if daring her to deny her a place at their table. Her dark hair, sprinkled with gray, was swept up in a simple style, and her lavender-colored gown hung upon a figure that had previously been curvaceous but was now slim to the point of fragility. Her once-beautiful face lacked its previously smooth, plump cheeks and dimpled chin, but her eyes were the same brilliant blue as her daughters’.

“Felicia,” the dowager said.

There was a hush as Olivia’s mother approached and sat down at the opposite end of the table from the dowager. Felicia’s fingers clenched about her spoon as the servant set a bowl of broth before her. Briefly, she glanced at the amazed expressions on the faces of her daughters.

“You allow the younger girls to dine with you?”

The dowager gave her a considering look. “I thought it was time they learned proper table manners, so yes, we dine as a family unless there are visitors.”

Felicia frowned and opened her mouth before changing her mind and focusing her attention on the meal.

Olivia’s sisters turned to her now. The weight of their regard reminded her that, as the eldest, she should know what to do with this new development, but Olivia was no wiser than them. She frowned and nodded at their bowls, and so the meal began. But she had only taken a couple of sips of the broth before she threw a surreptitious glance at her mother. How long had it been since Felicia had graced them with her presence at the table? How long since she had left the confines of her bedchamber? Olivia remembered telling Ivo about it. Her mother had always been distant and uninterested in her daughters, so it was no surprise her daughters did not spend a great deal of time thinking of her. But lately, she had been almost entirely forgotten as her husband’s disgrace unfolded and engulfed the Ashton family.

What would Ivo think of this latest development? But then Olivia reminded herself that whatever Ivo thought was no longer something she wanted to hear.

The broth was removed, and the next course served, and still no one said a word. Until…

“I received a message today from Gabriel.” The dowager’s voice broke the heavy silence. She looked about at them as if to assess the effect of her words. “He is returning to Grantham with his new bride.”

“They are married then,” Olivia said in delight.

“But I wanted to be flower girl!” Edwina burst out, disappointed, and then squeaked when Georgia pinched her.

Their grandmother ignored the interruption. “They married quietly in Cornwall. At least they had the sense to do that.” She folded her napkin precisely. “They will be residing here in Sussex for the foreseeable future.”

Olivia tried to read her grandmother’s thoughts, but apart from a gleam in her dark eyes, there wasn’t much to go on. Was she glad, was she angry, was she…? What was she thinking?

“I will ready the duke’s rooms at once.” Humber spoke with satisfaction from his place at the door, where he had been supervising the serving of the meal. Olivia suspected he had never liked the dowager’s husband and had liked her son even less. Perhaps he thought Gabriel a better duke than either of them.

The dowager spoke. “There will be much to do when he arrives. I have some thoughts on the matter.”

Felicia set down her knife with a genteel clink. Her face held an expression Olivia had not seen for a very long time. It was the same expression she saw every time Felicia bore another daughter, setting aside her disappointment and preparing to try again for her dearly-longed-for son and heir. Resolve.

“I hope I can make my peace with the duke,” she said. “I think it is time to put the past behind us.”

The dowager looked surprised but also relieved. “I am glad to hear that, Felicia. Our family needs to work together through these difficult times.”

“Indeed.”

Felicia bowed her head over her meal once more, but Olivia caught the faint curve of her lips. Her mother was smiling, and there was something sly about it. Something shrewd and cunning.