Page 42 of My Secret Duke
“Yes, I love her. And I am sincere in my desire to marry her, but Gabriel may view things differently. We grew up together, and he has seen me at my worst. Persuading him I am in earnest may take a little time, but Justina is a treasure, and I will do all in my power to gain Gabriel’s permission to marry her.”
Ivo stared a moment longer, but Charles did not drop his gaze. “Very well. I believe you. If you decide to approach Gabriel and you need my support, I will give it.”
Charles seemed surprised by that, and then he smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I may well need your support, knowing how fiercely Gabriel protects his sisters.” He stepped away from the portrait and came to sit opposite Ivo. “Right now, I think we have a more pressing matter. Mystere.”
“We do not know he is the traitor in our ranks.”
“No, but I think it more likely than not. I mean, would this Jacob fellow still be holding a grudge against you after all these years?”
Ivo hoped that was true. They needed to discover what Mystere was up to. Before Lieutenant Harrison and his revenue men made another attempt to arrest him.
Chapter Nineteen
Ashton House
Mayfair, London
They had arrived in London, and Olivia was bubbling with anticipation. The dowager had declared she needed to lie down to recover from traveling with a coachload of boisterous girls. She meant Roberta, everyone knew that, but Olivia restrained herself from saying so.
And to the surprise of everyone, Olivia’s mother had announced she was coming to London too. There were times when she felt sorry for Felicia—the woman had lost a great deal because of a turn of events that was not her fault. But her mother had never asked for Olivia’s help or understanding. She had never tried to befriend her, or form a bond with her, or to get to know any of her six daughters. The simple truth was Felicia had wanted a son, and nothing and no one else had mattered.
Being replaced by Gabriel had hurt the former duchess deeply. What was left for an ambitious woman like her? At first, Felicia had wallowed in her despair, refusing to come out of her room, but something had changed. She was reentering life at Grantham, and Olivia wasn’t sure whether to be pleased about that or worried.
“Are we going for a walk in the park?” Roberta peered around the door, bouncing with excitement. She was still very much a child and there were times when Olivia envied her joie de vivre.
“Grandmama is resting.”
“We can take Miss Starky as chaperone. That is what she is here for. Please, can we?”
Olivia couldn’t help but laugh. “Very well,” she said. “See if Justina wants to come.”
Alone again, she took a deep breath. This would be her first foray into the polite world since the scandal at the Elphinstones’ musical evening, not to mention the matter of Gabriel eloping with Vivienne. She could expect knowing looks and whispers behind hands, and even to be cut by those who had previously welcomed her. She needed to be prepared. Yes, the memory of the pamphlet with the cartoon depictions of herself and Ivo still stung, but she was the daughter of a duke. She was no longer going to allow a few cruel comments to drive her from her rightful place in society.
A stroll in the park would be the perfect way to begin this new phase of her life. With a determined air, Olivia went to unpack her trunk and find the perfect outfit.
The park was full of people perambulating and vehicles and horses slowly circling about, with frequent stops for the greeting of acquaintances. It was a fine day, and although Roberta declared she would rather have been on a horse, they enjoyed themselves. Several people paused to inquire after the dowager’s health, but what they really wanted was the latest gossip. Olivia was glad they had not heard about Vivienne and Annette’s novel writing venture—not yet anyway. She didn’t fool herself that it would not happen eventually. A whisper here and awhisper there, and word would begin to spread.
She was pleased with her muslin walking dress, the skirt was a cream color, and the bodice and sleeves a shade of blue that matched her eyes. The current fashion was for waistlines to be very high, and bodices much smaller than she preferred, but Madame Annabelle, their dressmaker, had made allowance for Olivia’s abundant “charms.” Her bonnet was tied under her chin with a ribbon the same blue as the dress, and decorated with an attractive set of feathers that bobbed and waved as she turned her head. Overall, she felt as if she compared very favorably with the fashionable ladies there.
“Oh, look!” Justina’s exclamation brought her attention to a large, stationary group just ahead of them. “Who is that they’re all staring at, Olivia? Some famous person?”
“Perhaps it is the Prince of Wales,” Roberta said. “Is it true that his father is mad?”
“Robbie!” Justina reprimanded her, glancing about in case they were overheard—which, thankfully, they weren’t. “That is not something you should be speaking about in public.”
“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? Grandmama says it’s true.”
While her sisters bickered, Olivia tried to see through the crowd of sightseers. The focus of their attention seemed to be a gentleman at the very center. And, unfortunately, it was a gentleman she recognized.
“Don’t look. It is Prince Nikolai of Holtswig,” shesaid dully.
Of course, she had known she would be seeing him at some point, but she had hoped to avoid that moment as long as possible. After everything that had happened at Grantham, she no longer imagined he would ever want to propose to her. That ship had sailed, and she would be lucky if he did not give her the cut.
However, any hopes Olivia had of strolling by unobserved were crushed when Roberta raised her hand and waved, calling out the prince’s name as if they were the best of friends. Olivia cringed, and Justina gasped, but it was too late to escape.
The prince’s head jerked up, his aristocratic nostrils flaring, and his admirers turned to see who had the audacity to behave in such a vulgar manner.
“He won’t recognize us,” Olivia babbled. “I mean, of course he willrecognizeus, but he will pretend not to.”
