Page 75 of House of Thorns
The servants entered with a platter of quail with asparagus and orange jellies. When they’d finished serving, the duke waved them away.
As the man glowered at his plate, Olivia queried, “Have you seen Lady Blair lately?”
The duke looked up, surprised she’d dare break his governing silence.
She smiled, pleased she had. “I’ve been amiss in visiting her, of late.”
A gleam entered the old man’s eye, a gleam she couldn’t quite place, but one that irritated her even though she couldn’t place why. Was it a challenge? As if possessed by some devil, she said, “I do so wish to consult with her. I’ve been mulling the idea of taking a portion of the proceeds of this concert and financing another in London.” She hadn’t, but now that she thought on the matter, it was an excellent idea.
The duke’s head snapped back.
Amostexcellent idea. “And perhaps on to Paris,” she continued, pleased.
“Have you no shame?”
“Odd.” Olivia slowly set down her spoon. “That’s a question I believe you should be answering rather than asking.”
Again, to her surprise, the duke’s eyes gleamed.
A movement near the door caused them both to turn as Nicholas strolled into the room, his cravat hanging slightly to one side and with a cut gracing his chin.
“Forgive my late arrival,” he said with an easy grin.
Olivia smiled. “Lord Randall?”
“An unexpected emergency called him away,” Nicholas replied, taking a seat in the middle of the table.
The duke peered at him from under drawn brows but said nothing.
Olivia didn’t mind. With Nicholas in the room, the conversation took a happier turn, and for the remainder of the meal, she found herself quite forgetting the duke altogether.
Finally, after the last course had been served with still no Deborah or Lord Deveraux in sight, the duke turned to Nicholas.
“The library?” he grunted.
Nicholas’s lip quirked. “Surely, it is a crime to leave Olivia unattended in the drawing room?”
Olivia let her gaze linger on his mouth. Such a sensual mouth. She couldn’t wait to feel his lips on her skin again.
“You well earn your reputation, Blair,” the duke commented dryly.
Feeling her cheeks heat, Olivia rose from her chair.
The men followed suit.
“Then we shall break convention, and all retire to the drawing room,” the duke snapped. “No doubt, Deborah is there already. I expect to hear welcome news.”
His words puzzled Olivia as they headed toward the drawing room once again, but she said nothing.
Deborahwasthere, seated on the settee, her face aglow. Lord Deveraux sat by her side, holding her hand in his and speaking softly.
As they entered, both Deborah and Lord Deveraux rose to their feet.
“And?” the duke prompted, stalking back toward the fireplace.
Lord Deveraux turned toward Deborah with a smile. “I am pleased to announce, Deborah has given me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Olivia could only stare, amazed. Surely, the man knew she expected a child? Hehadto. Deborah looked so relaxed.
