Page 18 of My Secret Duke
“Thank you,” she said gravely.
“I will dance with you too, as a proxy for my cousin Harold,” he added with a smirk.
Annette blushed and did not answer.
Everyone gathered in the drawing room before dinner. Most of the guests were known to Ivo, and in fact, it was a relatively small group consisting of the Viscount and Viscountess Monteith and their daughter, Lady Annette; Sir William Tremeer, who was Vivienne’s brother and who was employed at Cadieux’s Gambling Club; the Dowager Duchess of Grantham; and Gabriel, the duke; his wife, Vivienne, the duchess; as well as the two elder granddaughters, Lady Olivia and Lady Justina. Ivo, his mother, Elaine, and sisters Lexy and Adelina completed the guest list. Well, apart from the prince.
Although it was Gabriel and Vivienne’s recent marriage they were meant to be celebrating, to Ivo, it felt as if Prince Nikolai was the true guest of honor. The prince was the last to arrive, and he strode into the room with a minion scuttling behind him, greeting the dowager with a familiar kiss on her cheek.
“My dear boy,” she responded, and promptly began to introduce him to the others, paying particular attention to Olivia. The prince took Olivia’s hand in his, and she curtsied low before him, nothing like the slight bob she had greeted Ivo with. Nikolai was a handsome young man, especially when he smiled, and he was smiling now. There was also a gleam in his dark eyes that Ivorecognized only too well.
Attraction. Desire.
Ivo glared at the two of them. For God’s sake, the man was looking at Olivia as if she was a particularly delectable dessert!
The prince murmured something flattering to Olivia as she rose gracefully from her curtsy. She was smiling as she met his gaze, a pink blush across her cheeks. Ivo felt that odd tightening in his chest again. Of course, he was annoyed that Olivia had turned her back on all he had to offer, and now here she was, fluttering her eyelashes at a man with far less to recommend him. Well, Ivo supposed hewasa prince, probably wealthy, with a castle. Thinking about it that way, Ivo couldn’t really blame her, and yet he did. Wealth and castles weren’t everything. Ivo would have made her happy. Could the same be said for the prince?
He turned away in time to notice Charles Wickley had entered the room. He caught Ivo’s gaze and gave a polite nod, before Gabriel moved to take his friend’s hand warmly in both of his.
“Thank God,” Ivo heard the duke say. “I’m so glad you are here.”
Charles chuckled. “That bad, is it?”
“Is Freddie coming?”
“On duty, I’m afraid,” Charles replied. Ivo knew that Freddie was the third of the trio of men who had been friends since they were placed in St. Ninian’s Foundling Home for Boys.
Whatever else was said was lost in the hubbub as the butler announced that dinner was about to be served.
Ivo escorted his mother into the dining room, where a polished silver candelabra stood guard over sparklingcrockery and glassware. It looked as if a year’s supply of candles had been lit at once. Olivia’s grandmother was certainly going all out to impress, and even Ivo could admit it was effective. He noticed Viscountess Monteith exchange a glance with his mother, eyebrows raised. Neither of them were admirers of the Dowager Duchess of Grantham, but that had not stopped them from accepting her invitation. They were probably hoping for a good supply of gossip to take home with them.
Annette took her place beside him, and leaned in to whisper, “I am so glad you are here, Ivo.”
“I tried not to be,” he said honestly, “but I was overruled. There are more exciting things I could be doing.”
“I don’t believe there is anything more exciting than this. I keep waiting for my mother to say something offensive to the Dowager Duchess of Grantham. She still believes you would have married me if it wasn’t for the billiard table scandal.”
Ivo raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Is that what they’re calling it? I would have thought there were more interesting things to talk about by now.”
“I shouldn’t have spoken of it.” Annette searched his face worriedly, and he wondered what she saw.
“No, speak away.” He leaned closer. “Do you think they might come to blows by pudding?”
She covered her giggle with her hand.
He grinned back, and then his gaze slid past her, and he realized Olivia was watching them with a little frown between her brows. His expression cooled, and he gave her a polite nod of acknowledgment. Her earrings caught the light as she turned away, and then she stiffened, her hand clenching into a fist on the table top. What on earth…? He followed her gaze to see that someoneelse had entered the dining room. The others had fallen silent, everyone observing the woman in black widow’s weeds as she moved gracefully toward an empty chair.
The dowager’s voice was carefully expressionless. “May I introduce Lady Felicia, my late son’s… wife.” The hesitation was telling.
Felicia shot the dowager a poisonous look, and reached up to fiddle with the black mourning pendant she wore around her neck. Her mouth curved in a cold, supercilious smile as she surveyed the assembled guests. “Welcome to Grantham,” she said, as if she was the hostess rather than her mother-in-law.
Ivo exchanged a glance with Annette, who widened her eyes comically. Gabriel and Vivienne looked as if they wished they were anywhere else. Justina, who was seated beside Gabriel, reached over to cover his hand with hers, and he gave her a tense smile. It appeared that the gambling club owner had well and truly redeemed himself in the eyes of his new family. As for Felicia, the outcast wife… Ivo suspected she was enjoying making things as uncomfortable as possible.
“Ah, mock turtle soup! My favorite!” It was the prince who spoke, his usually haughty expression brightening as he recognized what was in the bowl before him. Either he was completely oblivious to the undertone around the table, or he just didn’t care.
The dowager smiled fondly. “I hope you enjoy your stay at Grantham, Niki.”
The prince’s dark gaze slid toward Olivia, who sat opposite him. “I am certain I will.”
