Page 6 of My Secret Duke

W here are they?” Olivia had hurried downstairs when she heard a coach come rolling up to the front doors of Grantham house. She had been dying of boredom, reduced to playing a game with Edwina and her dolls. Now she could see Humber directing the servants as the luggage was brought in and piled up on the marble floor of the foyer, and already some of it was being taken upstairs to the ducal suite. But there was no sign of the returning travelers.

Justina pulled a face. “Grandmama had them shown into the drawing room. No one else is allowed in.”

“That sounds… ominous. What is she going to do? Send them back to Cornwall?”

“I don’t think she can do that,” Justina said after a moment’s serious thought. “After all, Gabriel is the duke and the head of the family.”

“Have you heard anything? You were listening at the door, weren’t you?” Oliva gave her sister a knowing smile.

Justina flushed. “There was no shouting, so I didn’t hear anything really, and then Humber saw me and gave me one of his looks.”

Humber’s “looks” were almost as dread-provoking as the dowager’s, but it seemed unfair he should judge Justina for listening at the door after he had eavesdropped on Olivia’s conversation with Northam.

Olivia wondered what her grandmother was saying to Gabriel and Vivienne, but she did not have to ponder for long. Just then, the door opened, and the couple in question stepped out. Her heart lifted as she cried out, “Gabriel!”

Her brother turned to her, and his dark eyes warmed. Olivia noticed he was holding Vivienne’s hand, although the two of them looked a little shaken. Gabriel and his sister had rarely hugged, but now she couldn’t help but throw her arms around him, her eyes stinging with emotion. Gabriel had to bend down, he was so much taller than her, as he gathered her against him. When he moved on to embrace Justina, it was Vivienne’s turn, who squeezed her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“I wish I’d been at the wedding,” Justina said.

“I’m sorry you weren’t,” Gabriel replied.

“It was rather chaotic,” Vivienne responded with a glance in his direction. “My family is best kept at a distance. Apart from Will.” Sir William Tremeer, Vivienne’s younger brother, was well known to them all, and well liked.

Gabriel glanced about him. “Where are the others?”

By which Olivia suspected he meant Edwina, her youngest sister—she and Gabriel had a special bond. “Grandmama has them taking lessons with the new governess. No doubt they will seek you out soon. Ever since we heard you were coming home, Edwina’s been so excited. We all have,” she admitted.

Gabriel met her eyes, and he saw the questions in them. “Has it been awful?” he asked quietly.

Of course it had! Exiled to Grantham with nothing to do but intervene in her sisters’ squabbles. But Olivia shrugged, playing it down. “We’ve been through worse.”

“I wish I hadn’t left you all to face the music.”

“Nonsense. We wanted you to follow your heart.” She smiled reassuringly at Vivienne. “Oh, there is one thing—” She had meant to tell him about her mother finally leaving her bed, but they were interrupted by the arrival of a familiar, slightly built gentleman, who bowed before them.

“Your Grace!” It was the family solicitor.

“Arnott?” Gabriel frowned. “What is it?”

“You will recall you are yet to appoint a new estate manager, sir, so there are some urgent matters that have been awaiting your return.” The unsmiling man began to rattle on about the fences and tenants and leaking roofs—why did the tenants’ roofs always leak? Olivia tuned him out, but Gabriel gave his new wife a harassed glance.

“Do you mind, my love? I should at least deal with the repairs.”

Vivienne smiled and waved him away. “Go,” she said. “I’m sure I will be perfectly fine without you to hold my hand.”

All the same, Gabriel reached to brush her cheek with his thumb in a loving gesture that made Olivia’s breath catch in a strange combination of affection and jealousy. To love someone so much that you were willing to risk Grandmama’s ire and cast yourself adrift from society? These days, it seemed impossible to Olivia that she would ever do such a thing. She was determined to be the perfect debutante if she was given a second chance. Plenty of gentlemen had noticed her before she had experienced the ire of the ton, and if she had her chance again, there would surely be a gentleman who would suit her purposes. Someone compatible and affable, wealthy, of course, who would be fond enough of her to overlook her disgrace and help her sisters.

She pictured him in her mind. A little gray, perhaps, but still handsome. He would smile at her benignly and fasten sparkly jewelry around her neck. In return, she would be the perfect wife, run his household and have his children—she skipped quickly over this part of her plan—and attend entertainments with him, even the ones she found boring.

And she would never, ever be so foolish as to be drawn into the company of the wrong sort of gentleman ever again. An image of Ivo popped into her mind, but she pushed him out again.

“Will you show me to my room?” Vivienne was looking between the two sisters, her gray eyes lacking their usual assurance.

Of course she was feeling lost and uncertain. Unwelcome too, possibly, depending on what the dowager had said, which was something Olivia was dying to know.

Olivia and Justina set off with her. “Are you very tired after the journey?” Justina asked, also noticing Vivienne’s discomfort. “We can show you around the house. It is your home now.”

“I suppose it is.” Her smile was forced. “I do feel rather daunted at the thought of taking on the role of chatelaine of Grantham.”

“Anyone would be daunted,” Olivia reassured her. Especially with her grandmother in residence, and then her mother, always in the background. Although not so much in the background these days.

Once they had taken Vivienne to the ducal rooms, and she had admired them sufficiently, she divested herself of her dusty traveling cloak and changed her shoes, and they set out to wander over the great house.

Olivia had lived at Grantham all her life, and she was used to the size and shabby grandeur of the place. However, Vivienne looked about her at first in amazement and then growing dismay. Olivia, seeing things through her new sister-in-law’s eyes, noticed for the first time in forever the damp stains on the ceilings and the crumbling friezes and mold-smudged decorations. Some of the upper rooms in the east wing were closed and had not been opened in years. No one ventured there anymore, and Vivienne could see why.

“No wonder Gabriel is losing sleep over this place,” she said at last, her lovely face downcast. “Is it even possible to return Grantham to its former glory?”

Justina shared a look with Olivia. “Perhaps not,” she admitted, “but we can fix some of the worst problems. And if anyone can do it, then it is Gabriel. We just need a little more money.”

Vivienne’s smile at their vote of confidence soon faded. “Gabriel needed an heiress, and instead he chose me.”

Justina looked horrified at her words being misconstrued. “N-no, I didn’t mean that. We are all very happy he chose you. And even if the east wing falls down, we still have the rest of the house,” she added in what was meant to be a cheery tone of voice.

Olivia laughed at her awkwardness, and Vivienne found a smile.

“What did Grandmama say to you both?” Olivia asked. She had hoped Vivienne would volunteer the information, but her curiosity could no longer be contained.

“I do not know the dowager well,” Vivienne began thoughtfully. “Before we arrived, Gabriel warned me she could be redoubtable.” The girls grimaced. “But apart from a sharp word or two, and a passing mention of ingratitude, she seemed to want to move on.”

“She loves him,” Olivia said with certainty. “Not that she would ever admit it.”

Vivienne’s face cleared.

“It’s just that they have a very strange way of showing it,” Justina added.

Vivienne went on without commenting. “Your grandmother said that she is arranging a welcome home house party here at Grantham. I assume it is because she couldn’t host a wedding, and this is the next best thing.”

“She has mentioned it.” Olivia felt a frisson of excitement at the thought of guests and entertainment. It had been deadly dull so far, and she missed London and wanted to return as soon as possible. Was this the first step in a solution to her problem?

“And I have seen her and Humber plotting together,” Justina put in.

“I believe she has a guest list already,” Vivienne went on with a shaky smile. “And I am to have a new gown for the event. She is determined that Gabriel’s marriage to me will not prevent the Ashtons from retaking their proper place in the ton, and I assured her I will do my best to help in any way I can.”

Then she glanced about at the damp, neglected part of the house they were standing in and sighed. “I think I have seen enough for now. I might need a lie down. The dowager told us we will be having a family dinner tonight, to celebrate the beginning of our new lives as Duke and Duchess of Grantham.”

Olivia didn’t envy her negotiating that rocky road. She had seen the sort of strain her mother had been under all her life, and although she did not agree with the way Felicia had neglected her daughters, she could also appreciate the pressure of keeping up appearances.

They were almost back to the ducal rooms when there was a shriek from the direction of the stairs.

“Vivienne! Gabriel!”

Edwina came galloping toward them, released from the schoolroom above, and there could be no more confidences shared after that. Olivia, who had intended to warn Vivienne that Lady Felicia had risen from her bed, forgot all about it.

It was only later, as they sat down at the dining table resplendent with the best Ashton silver, candles blazing, that she remembered. By then, it was too late. As Gabriel and Vivienne took their seats with the dowager and the six rather subdued sisters, Felicia made her way into the room. Gabriel looked up and frowned, and Vivienne’s eyes widened.

The dowager smiled without humor. “Felicia. You have not yet met Harry’s son and his wife. Gabriel… Vivienne, this is Lady Felicia Ashton.”

In silence, Felicia stared down the table at her husband’s bastard son, who had turned out to be the legitimate heir, and who had taken everything from her. Olivia wasn’t sure what her mother was thinking, but it was obvious from her expression that her thoughts were not pleasant ones. Tonight, her mother’s hair was dressed in a coronet upon her head, and Olivia noticed again how the dark waves were streaked with silver. She had even dressed in one of her more opulent, if sadly out-of-date, gowns. Olivia only knew it was out-of-date because she had lately been in London and had seen the latest fashions for herself.

Felicia paused as she was about to sit and then changed her mind, causing Humber to grip her chair back and shoot a glance at the dowager. But all she said was, “Welcome home,” in a voice without inflection.

It was an awkward moment but at least it was over now. Olivia breathed a sigh of relief as the meal was served. Perhaps it would be all right, she told herself. And perhaps this grand welcome home event her grandmother was planning would go off without a hitch and launch Olivia back into the life she so desperately desired.