Page 7 of My Secret Duke
I vo glanced across the coach at his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Northam, and his two sisters, Adelina and Lexy. They were close to their destination now: Grantham . Ivo shifted restlessly in his seat and straightened the cuffs of his perfectly fitted green jacket. He felt a little guilty for purchasing the garment but had reminded himself that one must look prosperous if one wanted to prosper. His man of business would probably not agree, although their discussion had proven very helpful, and the bank had increased the mortgage on Whitmont. When Ivo saw the figure it now stood at, he had felt rather queasy. But it meant he could buy into Cadieux’s, and with the projected profits from the gambling hell and the smuggling, he felt more hopeful than he had in years that he might finally begin to divest himself of the albatross around his neck.
All the same, he’d rather not be on his way to Grantham, the home of the Ashtons. The Fitzsimmonses hadn’t always been on the Ashtons’ automatic guest list, but these days, the Dowager Duchess of Grantham was furiously throwing out invitations in every direction. And it was an unfortunate circumstance, in Ivo’s opinion, that because Annette and Vivienne were cousins, and Annette was a friend of the Fitzsimmonses, his family had been included under the heading of “close friends and family.”
They had been promised entertainment. Firstly, tonight there was a dinner for those aforementioned close friends and family, and then on the following night, a celebratory ball. The ball was a “welcome home” event and open to anyone the dowager could entice or cajole into attending—she obviously meant it to be a much-talked-about success. For those who wished to stay on at Grantham after the ball, there was the promise of picnics and shooting parties and other tempting diversions.
The dowager had, in Ivo’s opinion, proved amazingly resilient when it came to weathering the family scandals. All the same, he wondered how she expected to recover from Gabriel’s marriage to a woman who, although beautiful and no doubt good, was completely ill-chosen. Society was agog about the newlyweds and keen to discover what would happen next. There would always be the sticklers who disapproved, but for others, the Dowager Duchess of Grantham’s welcome home ball had shot to the top of their “must attend” list.
Elaine, Ivo’s mother, had declared her head was spinning from the Ashton goings-on. All the same, she was quick to accept the invitation. The Viscountess Monteith would be in attendance, and Ivo’s mother and the viscountess were bosom bows from their school days, while Annette, the viscountess’s daughter, had carried on the tradition by being best friends with Adelina and Lexy. When the invitation was shown to Ivo by his mother, he had tried desperately to think of an excuse not to attend, but even when he came up with several good ones, she had informed him it was a fait accompli. “You will be escorting myself and your sisters to Grantham, and there is the end to it.”
Elaine Fitzsimmons had been a widow now for thirteen years. Her husband had been a tall, handsome man with fair hair and a big smile, loved by everyone. Although Ivo’s mother played the grieving widow well, he suspected his father’s untimely demise may actually have been a relief—not that she would ever have admitted it. Since his death, the duke’s reputation as a seducer of women had come to Ivo’s attention—some of the older men in the village occasionally let something about his father slip. They had liked him—everyone had—but they hadn’t always been happy with his extramarital activities, especially when it involved their womenfolk.
As he was growing up, Ivo had wanted to be just like his father. The late duke had been a daredevil, game for anything, risking his life again and again, until one day he fell as his horse took yet another high fence and broke his neck. Nowadays, Ivo preferred to think he was his own man. The euphoria that came from smuggling goods across the channel and into Portside still had its exhilarating moments, but some days, it was more like hard work. Although he always smiled when he remembered sharing a glass of good French brandy with Lieutenant Harrison, the senior revenue officer stationed in the Portside area. The man had been unaware he was imbibing contraband, and to risk exposure had probably been foolish on Ivo’s part. And yet he had done it, and enjoyed the frisson of danger.
Over the centuries, the Fitzsimmons fortunes had waxed and waned. Rumor had it that the first Duke of Northam had earned his title and Whitmont estate by performing some unspecified favor for the monarch of the day, a deed so dark it had been hushed up ever since. Perhaps that was where Ivo’s love of intrigue and adventure could be traced back to, along with his desire to lead a double life. It was in his blood. Unfortunately, that early ancestor had ended up on the block with an axe severing his head from his body.
In an abstract way, Ivo accepted that the law of averages suggested he would one day be arrested for smuggling, now that the government was taking a harder line. Yes, the dukes who had gone before him had been lucky, but that luck would one day run out. If he was caught, he would end up being hanged or imprisoned. What would happen to his family after that? The shame would probably send his mother and sisters into isolation.
Yes, one day he would have to stop, but that time was yet to arrive.
“Annette…”
The whispered name caught his attention. His sisters had their heads together on the other side of the coach, sharing secrets. His mother had heard it too, and she now jerked awake from her doze. “What are you two gossiping about?”
“Oh.” Adelina shared a look with Lexy. “I was just reminding Lexy how strange Annette’s behavior had been recently. She is forever scribbling in her notebooks and barely says a word. Sometimes she looks as if she’s a million miles away.”
Well, at least she’s not pining over me.
His mother must have had the same thought, shooting him a look full of daggers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Harold doesn’t pop the question before long,” she said. “I shall be very glad to welcome her into our family.”
The two sisters agreed. Adelina looked very much like Ivo in coloring, having inherited their father’s fair hair and light eyes, but Lexy’s locks shone with red highlights, and her eyes were hazel. They were spoken of as a good-looking family, and he knew his mother was proud of her small brood. In appearance, she was nothing like her children, being small and dark-haired with brown eyes, but the Fitzsimmons blood had prevailed when it came to her offspring.
“I hope you will keep your distance from that minx, Lady Olivia Ashton,” the dowager went on. “I can’t remember that night at the Elphinstones’ without a shudder. Poor Jane was beside herself.” Jane was Annette’s mother, Viscountess Monteith. “The gossips might have quieted down now that they have her brother’s misalliance to talk about, but you can be sure that before long, the girl will do something else outrageous. She is nothing but trouble.”
Ivo tried not to sigh. He had heard this warning from his mother many times since the musical evening. “It was my fault, Mother, as I have explained over and over again. I apologized to Lady Olivia and then did my best to right matters.”
Not that his best was good enough for Olivia.
“All the same.” She sniffed. “I believe she has set her cap at you, Ivo. You are a catch, and she is desperately in need of someone like you, someone respectable.”
Adelina snorted a laugh, turning it into a cough.
Ivo opened his mouth to protest. Olivia had been in need of him, until he had ruined whatever was between them. Before he could speak, and perhaps it was just as well he didn’t, his mother carried on.
“If her brother had not run off with that woman and taken center stage, she might have been able to whip the scandalmongers into a frenzy, and then you would have felt obliged to offer for her.”
Ivo said nothing. What could he say? I did propose, Mother, but she turned me down. I wasn’t good enough for her. He wasn’t going to mention that, and he didn’t think Olivia would either. He hadn’t wanted to visit Grantham, but once he was there, he was determined to ignore Olivia as much as possible. He would not behave like a man scorned. He would be polite and yet completely indifferent. Yes, her words had hurt a great deal, but he would remain proudly aloof. He would show her how little her opinions meant to him.
A fizz of anticipation broke through his melancholy. She might even regret throwing his proposal back in his face.
“Well, the gardeners have been busy!” Elaine exclaimed as they reached their destination. Looking out of the window, Ivo could see that the borders were trimmed, the lawns scythed, and the gravel drive beyond the gatehouse was raked to within an inch of its life. For all the rumors regarding the Ashton family’s dire financial straits, Grantham looked very grand indeed. It seemed that the dowager duchess was determined to prove the gossipmongers wrong. As their coach drew up, servants came hurrying down the front stairs, ready to unload their luggage and welcome them inside.
Or, as Ivo whispered to Adelina, prevent them from leaving.
She tapped his arm with a giggle.
Inside the front door, the Dowager Duchess of Grantham was waiting to greet them, and beside her stood Gabriel, with his new wife, Vivienne. The happy couple, Ivo reminded himself, although their smiles appeared somewhat strained, while the dowager was wearing an expression he would have categorized as “determined.”
He made his bows and politely congratulated the duke and duchess, while his mother twittered to the dowager about the gardens as if there had never been a time when they had loathed each other. Gabriel looked as if he’d rather be somewhere else, but a glance at his wife seemed to calm him.
Ivo continued across the marble floor and found himself standing in a dazzling circle of rainbow light. When he stared up, he saw there was a colored glass dome high above, and the light shone through to the floor below. It was impressive. The Fitzsimmons family seat at Whitmont was not nearly as grand as this, and although he told himself his ancestors had preferred comfort to style, the truth was they had never had enough money.
“How do you do, Your Grace?” asked a piping voice.
Ivo blinked and realized he had not finished with the welcoming party. The six sisters stood in a row, and it was Edwina who had spoken. She made a wobbly curtsy, and he couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the youngest Ashton girl that lifted his spirits.
The others followed suit, although Olivia barely dipped at all, and her gaze met his but briefly. She looked as glorious as ever in a blue gown that brought out the color of her eyes. When she dropped her gaze, her dark lashes fanned her pale skin, and her plump lips pouted. She had a sullen look that made him want to kiss the life out of her.
He’d missed her, and he hadn’t realized how much until now. He’d missed her company and her smiles and their risky trysts. He’d missed spotting her across a room and knowing he would get to talk to her and hold her in his arms as they danced. He’d missed… her .
But this was not how he had planned to meet her. Where was his aloof demeanor? Ivo’s carefully chosen words stuck in his throat. Urbane, experienced, a gentleman who allowed very little to rattle him, he now found himself at an embarrassing loss.
“Ivo, come along!” The dowager and his sisters were already at the base of the staircase, waiting to be shown to their rooms.
Ivo gave a quick nod. Had any of the sisters noticed his fixation on Olivia? He hoped not. He would really have to do better at this polite indifference, he told himself as he made his way up the stairs.
“There will be dinner tonight, and tomorrow, the dowager has filled the day with diversions before the ball.” Elaine was puffing slightly as she climbed.
“What fun!” Adelina said excitedly. “Are there many guests staying?”
“The dowager says there will be a great many coming tomorrow for the ball alone, and some will be staying on. I wonder if there is room to house so many people.” She raised her brows. “I don’t mean to speak ill,” she lowered her voice, with an eye to the servant leading the way, “but the house is rumored to be in a very poor state. The east wing is completely closed off. I do hope our rooms are well aired.”
“Is Annette here yet?” Lexy glanced at her sister.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask,” Adelina replied. “I was struck dumb by that glass dome above the foyer. So grand! Why can’t we have something like that at Whitmont, Ivo?”
Ivo ignored her. He was thinking that he would be glad of Annette’s company, and no doubt, there would be other members of the ton arriving to attend the ball, people he knew and with whom he could be comfortable. Before long, he would be on his way home again, ready to put all of this behind him. Ready to put Olivia Ashton behind him.
And yet for some reason, his assertions rang hollow.