‘I called on you to enquire about your health—however, you appear quite well. Much better than the last time the gout struck,’ she remarked, noticing neither of his feet was bandaged. ‘I am surprised you are not in bed.’
Prinny’s mouth was full and he mumbled something, but it was impossible to distinguish what it was. He shifted on the sofa and studied his next morsel. ‘My physician says I am to stay off my feet. He didn’t say where.’ He gestured with his head towards the tea tray on the table next to them. ‘Why don’t you pour yourself some tea and we can have a nice chat.’
The deep red liquid in the glass that rested on the table caught her attention. Certainly he wouldn’t be drinking port. Not if he had the gout.
She gripped the ebonised wooden handle of the silver teapot and poured the aromatic liquid into a Sèvres cup. She had seen the white Sèvres tea set before with its gilding and its bucolic scene of a young man gazing adoringly at his lover. What she hadn’t seen before was the oval straight-sided silver teapot with the swan-head spout that was engraved with Napoleon’s imperial coat of arms.
‘This is a new acquisition. I’ve lost count of how many items of his you own. Are you determined to collect all of his possessions?’ she asked, placing the teapot back on the tray.
‘That little man thought he could conquer the world—that he could best me. Well, I showed him. I defeated him and now I get to enjoy the things he held dear.’ He popped a piece of marzipan into his mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You never sent word about the painting. Did you go to purchase it? I hope you did not encounter any trouble.’
There was a hesitation to his movements. ‘It went well. I am deciding where to hang it. I still do not understand why he would not loan it to you so you could show it to me while I decided if I wanted to purchase it.’
‘I imagine he was concerned he would not receive payment and the artwork would remain here.’
He gave a careless snort. ‘Why don’t you tell me what I have been missing?’
‘There is not much to tell. I’ve come from the Royal Academy where Mr West has asked me to assist him in determining the placement of works for the latest exhibition. I hope you will be feeling better by the time it opens. The works are quite moving. And, if you were planning on attending the Nettlefords’ ball, I understand they will be serving lobster cakes. That alone should tempt you enough to leave this house.’
Prinny’s hand stilled over the treats, and he cleared his throat. ‘I hope to be...feeling right as rain by then,’ he mumbled.
Evidently the prince was feeling better, since he was eating the marzipan as if it were his last meal. Perhaps she should have brought him a smaller selection. Eating that many pieces in rapid succession could not be good for one’s digestion.
‘I’m glad you’re enjoying the marzipan.’
Prinny looked down as if he hadn’t realised he had eaten nearly the entire basket and held it out to her. ‘Would you care for one?’
She selected the smallest piece. ‘I assume you will be well enough to attend the opening of Douglas at Drury Lane. They say Mrs Siddons will be returning to the stage.’
Prinny’s smile dropped. ‘I hope so.’
‘Then I look forward to seeing you there. I assume you will not bar me from your box,’ she teased.
He smiled affectionately at her. ‘I would never do such a thing to you.’
‘I have the notion that a small stroll would serve you well, since you did finish that entire basket of marzipan. What say you we take some air in your gardens?’
Prinny’s eyes darted from Olivia, to the guard by the door, and back to Olivia again. ‘I suppose one short stroll outside could do no harm.’
Chapter Eleven
Gabriel had arrived home from Parliament and been sitting at his desk, staring at his only clue for what felt like hours. Something about the handwriting on the note found on the gunman tickled his brain, but he could not for the life of him determine what it was. Hopefully a quiet evening at home would lift his spirits.
* * *
By the time he emerged from his rooms dressed for dinner, he was looking forward to a pleasant meal and another night in his wife’s bed. From the staircase landing, his gaze travelled down and settled on Olivia, who was speaking with Bennett in the entrance hall.
Her shiny dark hair was swept up, exposing the creamy skin of her neck and graceful shoulders. Her gown was the colour of irises and her arms were visible through the long semi-opaque sleeves. As she turned towards the staircase, the diamonds around her neck sparkled in the candlelight and Gabriel was blessed with a delicious view of the upper curves of her breasts. His lips rose, knowing he would have her all to himself for the entire evening.
Then he spied the wrap Bennett was holding out for her. As he dashed down the stairs, she spotted him.
‘Where are you off to?’ he asked without even offering her a greeting.
She dismissed Bennett with a slight nod and their butler disappeared down the hall. ‘I am going to Vauxhall to meet friends for dinner and to see a performance of Madame Saqui.’
Was he acquainted with these friends? Deciding she looked much too enticing to be strolling about Vauxhall without him, he pulled the sides of her wrap together over her breasts. The fabric was warm and soft, and reminded him of her skin. To stop himself from touching her, he held onto the edges of her wrap.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, looking down at his hands.
‘Making certain you do not catch a chill.’
She narrowed her eyes, but did not push his hands away. ‘That is very considerate of you. I suppose this concern has nothing to do with any late-night activities you are anticipating.’
‘I have no notion of which activities you are speaking of,’ he replied with what he hoped was an innocent expression. ‘You look quite beautiful this evening.’
Her body stiffened. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, backing away from him so he was forced to release her wrap.
Had he offended her? He had not intended to. ‘It is a cool evening. I shall inform your coachman to place a warm brick in your carriage.’
‘Comte Janvier has kindly offer to take me in his carriage, so there is no need to concern yourself.’
Every nerve in Gabriel’s body snapped to attention. Her phrasing could not have been worse. ‘He is to be your escort for the evening?’ he asked, raising his chin.
‘Yes, he was invited as well and offered to accompany me weeks ago.’
‘Well, I believe I shall wait with you and greet the Comte when he arrives.’
‘There is no need. You should go about your affairs.’ She walked away from him to the gilded mirror next to the door and adjusted her hair.
‘Dinner and a good book await me this evening. I am in no hurry.’ Not wanting her to witness his jealousy, he turned away and met the condescending gaze of his great-grandfather, staring down at him from a life-sized portrait of the man on horseback. Gabriel wanted to tell him to mind his own business. It was quite evident he was behaving like an overly protective bore, but she was his wife. His. He simply needed to be certain that Comte Janvier understood that.
A knock echoed through the marble hall and drew Gabriel’s attention to the front door. As he adjusted his cuffs, soft footsteps filled the hall, announcing Bennett’s arrival before he appeared.
‘You can leave now, Gabriel. I am certain that is Janvier and Bennett can manage the door.’ She addressed his reflection in the mirror and raised her brows expectantly.
‘I believe I will remain right where I am.’
She looked as if she was about to speak, but there was no time since Bennett had opened the door. Gabriel was standing out of Janvier’s line of vision when the man walked inside. Not that it would have mattered anyway since the French
man’s eyes were firmly fixed on Olivia. He couldn’t blame him. She was stunning. It was apparent to Gabriel that Janvier was considering the different ways he would like to take her. The man was perilously close to losing consciousness.
Gabriel cleared his throat. Janvier turned and his head snapped back as he realised Olivia’s husband was standing a few feet away.
‘Ah, Your Grace, what an unexpected surprise.’ He held out his hand.
Gabriel took his gloved hand and squeezed the man’s long, slender fingers tightly, wishing he could break a bone or two. When he released his grip, he was pleased to see Janvier wiggle his fingers around before placing them at his side.
‘It’s kind of you to accompany my wife this evening, since I will not be available to attend to her until she arrives home.’
He was staking his claim and Gabriel was satisfied to catch the understanding that crossed Janvier’s face.
‘I shall make every effort to ensure Her Grace’s every need is met.’
French bastard. ‘I shall have to recommend my tailor to you. Mr Weston cuts a very fine coat.’
A forced smile rose on Janvier’s lips. ‘That is very kind of you. However, I believe my tailor does an exceptional job.’
From the corner of his eye, Gabriel could see Olivia cross her arms. So they weren’t exactly being subtle. They were men. He turned to her and held out his hand. ‘I will see you into the carriage.’
He knew she was fighting a desire to turn around from both of them and stomp back up to her rooms. She placed her white-gloved hand onto his arm and, for the briefest instant, the pressure of her fingers dug through the sleeve of his tailcoat. He bit back a smile at her subtle silent statement.
They stopped a few feet from the carriage and waited for the footman to open the door. Gabriel leaned down and let a small puff of breath float over his wife’s ear and neck. ‘Hold on to some of that fire till you return, Livy. It will make for a most enjoyable night in bed.’
She glanced at her friend, but he was busy speaking with his coachman.
‘You are presuming I will allow you in my bed after that display,’ she scolded him in a low voice.
‘In order to have another child, I believe I need to be in your bed—frequently—if we are truly intent about this. One time probably was not sufficient.’
‘Perhaps it was sufficient. Perhaps I am already carrying a child.’
Our child. The child would be ours. Gabriel looked over at Janvier and wanted to plant a facer for all new reasons. ‘I believe it is best to keep trying until we are certain,’ he whispered back, taking her gloved hand to his lips, searching her eyes for even the slightest reaction.
Immediately, she pulled her hand away and readjusted her wrap. ‘You believe I can be so easily charmed after that display of male dominance? I am not a bone to be fought over by two dogs.’
‘No, you are not a possession. You are the woman I chose above all others to marry and would do so again without hesitation. I was simply reminding him that you are my Duchess and should he offend your honour in any way, he will answer to me.’
Janvier approached Olivia’s side and she shifted her attention to adjusting her gloves.
‘Shall we?’ Janvier asked, moving his gaze between Olivia and Gabriel.
‘Yes, let’s not keep our friends waiting.’
She allowed Gabriel to help her into the carriage. His eyes were still on her when Janvier edged past him.
‘I shall have her home before sun up,’ the Frenchman said as he entered the carriage and took his seat across from Olivia.
Gabriel gave a curt nod before he stepped back, allowing the footman to raise the step and close the door with a click. Within minutes, Comte Janvier’s carriage pulled away with his wife inside.
Striding into their house, Gabriel went directly to the dining room, needing to focus on the food and drink set before him and not on the fact that his wife, who might already be carrying his child, was out with another man. As Gabriel settled into his chair, Bennett nodded to one of the footmen to begin serving the first course.
‘Bennett, has Comte Janvier been a frequent guest of the Duchess?’
‘He has attended a few of her dinner parties.’
‘And has he escorted her anywhere else in his carriage.’
‘No, sir. This is the first time.’
Gabriel sat back on the red-velvet cushion of his chair and watched one of his footmen ladle turtle soup into his bowl. He knew that he and Olivia had lived separate lives under the same roof. In regards to his responsibility to the Crown that situation had made things infinitely easy for him. Yet seeing a man drive off in his carriage with Olivia had set the pulse in his temples pounding.
He knew they’d agreed to be monogamous with each other while they were trying to conceive another child. He trusted Olivia to hold to their agreement. What he did not trust was that slippery Frenchman.
Gabriel scraped his chair back suddenly, startling the footmen and Bennett. He walked to the window and looked out at the cobblestone street below. The sound of carriage wheels and men on horseback going to and fro could be heard through the glass. He had not lied to her. He would marry her all over again, even knowing it would lead to their estrangement. The time they had spent together during their courtship and before Nicholas was born was some of his happiest, before things went horribly wrong. Would it be possible to have that again?
He should have insisted on going with her. He should not have handed her into the care of that wolf. It was too late now.
Drawing in a deep breath, Gabriel turned and slowly walked to the table. Sitting back in his chair, he reminded himself that Olivia was very capable of handling men.
* * *
By the time Olivia and Janvier left Vauxhall a soft rain had begun to fall. In the dim light and the gentle sway of the comfortable carriage Olivia should have felt completely relaxed. She’d had a pleasant dinner with friends and enjoyed an entertaining performance. Unfortunately the spectre of her husband had hovered over her all evening.
When Gabriel had asked her about her plans, good breeding had almost prompted her to suggest he join their little party. She’d had to bite her lip to prevent the words from escaping. There was no reason to foster a friendship with him when their reconciliation was only temporary.
Then she heard his voice rattling around in her brain once more. You are the woman I chose above all others to marry and would do so again without hesitation.
She rubbed her brow and mentally berated herself. Giving in to thoughts of Gabriel could only lead to confusion and heartache. She couldn’t trust him. Those were simply pretty words that fell from his lips to charm her. He was not sincere.
If only being around him hadn’t felt so wonderful.
Her thoughts drifted to the kiss he’d placed on her hand. She could not deny that simple kiss on her gloved hand had left her body anticipating more of his touch. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t even felt the warmth of his lips through the kidskin, just the pressure, and suddenly she felt eager to be home. She rubbed her knuckles, trying to erase the sensation.
‘I shall venture to blame the hour on your silence and not my company,’ Janvier said with a smile as he watched her from across the carriage.
Pulling her thoughts from Gabriel’s lips, Olivia gazed at her friend. ‘Forgive me, your carriage is quite comfortable and the hour is late. I fear the combination of the two has made me rather sleepy.’
‘It pleases me that you are so relaxed in my presence. I could sit beside you and you could rest your head on my shoulder. I would gladly be your cushion.’
‘That would not be proper though, would it?’
‘No one will see. We are alone. My staff is trained to knock before they open the door. Do not concern yourself with what they would think if we
are discovered together.’
Before she could object, Janvier moved across the carriage and settled himself next to her, pressing his thigh against hers. The scent of bay rum followed his movement. There was no denying he was an attractive and charming man who probably would make an ideal lover if she were so inclined. Wondering about how his kisses would compare to Gabriel’s, Olivia let her gaze drop to his smooth, full lips.
A small devilish grin creased the corners of his mouth. ‘My shoulder is at the ready.’
‘I do not believe I am that tired.’
‘Shall I return to my side of the carriage?’
She shook her head. ‘I am no longer the young ingénue.’
‘Were you ever naïve? Somehow I think you were born with an air of sophistication.’
‘That is because we met when I am already at such an advanced age.’
Janvier’s laughter improved her mood. Friends could do that. ‘You are far from your dotage.’
‘That is reassuring to hear. I simply meant you did not know me when I was a young girl. I suppose, like most, I harboured romantic fantasies.’
‘And now?’
‘And now I understand the realities of life.’
He shook his head. ‘In life there is always room for romance.’
‘Is there? I do believe I have long disregarded that notion.’
‘Perhaps you need to be reminded.’
His lips were touching hers before she even realised he’d moved. The only sound was the raindrops pinging off the carriage roof and the turning of the carriage wheels over the cobblestones.
She was so stunned by the soft, coaxing seduction that it took her a few moments to react. Realising he was actually kissing her, Olivia pushed against his chest and pulled her head back.
Before she could issue him a set down, Janvier spoke. ‘Forgive me. I misunderstood the direction of our conversation. I assure you, I meant no disrespect.’
The sly man had already stopped her from accusing him of being insolent and issuing a slap across his face. Years of wearing a polite mask made it easy for her to appear completely composed. ‘Let us be clear, I have no intention of beginning a liaison with you. I enjoy your company, but if you are seeking something more we should part ways.’
UNCOMMON DUKE, AN Page 10
