Page 22 of My Secret Duke
I think you are making a mistake.
Suddenly, she felt very much alone—and this time, there was no Justina, and no Ivo, to make her feel better.
Chapter Ten
After the excitement of dinner, the new day dawned still and clear. Ivo lay in bed and viewed the windows with narrowed eyes. He hadn’t slept well and was feeling out of sorts. This visit to Grantham might be everything his mother, and her best friend, Jane, had hoped for—they would have lots of gossip to share when they returned to London—but Ivo wasn’t enjoying it. The scene in the dining room had been unpleasant, with the arrogant prince demanding to know who had stolen his stallion, and Olivia’s worried face as she watched on. She was clearly under a great deal of pressure to ensnare Nikolai, although why she would want to was a mystery to him.
He was being disingenuous. Of course he understood why she wanted to marry the prince, although if she thought she would be happy with him… But perhaps happiness wasn’t the aim. Ivo suspected it wasn’t. He understood well enough the stratagems of marriage in the upper ranks of the ton and the reasons behind them.
When he had come face-to-face with her outside the drawing room, he had felt sorry for her. She had looked lost, and, unselfishly, he had wanted nothing more than to make her smile. He had started off with good intentions, but instead, he had ended up picking an argument with her. In response, she had wielded her tongue like a sword.
You’re the last person I should be friends with.
That had certainly stung. No one could blame him for fighting back. Then why did he feel as if he could havedone better?
Impatiently, Ivo threw off the covers and rose, thinking a brisk ride would help his mood. He was counting down the hours until he left tomorrow and could return to normalcy. He thought he might spend some time at Whitmont, breathing in the sea air, clearing his head.
Ivo’s hopes of having the stables to himself were dashed when he found Prince Nikolai already there, in close conversation with Otto. Leopold the stallion was being walked carefully back and forth over the cobbled yard, while they checked him for any injuries sustained from Roberta’s wild ride. The animal didn’t look quite as magnificent as he had when Ivo first saw him trot by yesterday. There were scratches on his chestnut hide where he had been ridden through a thicket, and poultices had been applied to the worst of them.
Despite Ivo greeting the prince in his usual polite and friendly fashion, all he got in response was a cool stare. Was Ivo’s dislike of the man because of the situation with Olivia? He didn’t think so. Nikolai was unpleasant, proud, and rude, and Ivo would have disliked him whoever he was. With an inner shrug, he went to find himself a mount for his ride—he would be glad to be out in the fresh air and away from what was shaping up to be another uncomfortable day.
Gabriel had informed them last night that there were diversions planned today for the guests, to keep them busy.
“Hazard?” Charles had inquired with a smirk.
Will Tremeer had seemed to brighten at the prospect. “I missed the club while I was in Cornwall,” he admitted. “Everything seemed very dull.”
Viscount Monteith had then introduced the subjectof horseflesh—he owned a racing stable and was a keen bidder at Tattersall’s—and that was that. Of course, the prince had his own thoughts on such matters—which he seemed to think were theonlyway to do things—and before long, the two men, having found something in common, were deep in conversation.
Remembering it now, Ivo wondered if Olivia was as horse mad as her hoped-for husband. He didn’t believe so, at least she had never mentioned horses to him during their tête-à-têtes, although they had spoken on a wide variety of subjects. A sense of loss flooded him. He missed their conversations. He buoyed himself up with the mischievous thought that if she did marry the prince, she would need to cultivate an equine interest, real or feigned.
The ride did him good, and he returned to the house feeling more his pragmatic self. Breakfast was underway, and after washing and changing out of his riding clothes, he sauntered downstairs to partake. As soon as they saw him, his sisters and Annette looked up guiltily, making him wonder what secrets they were sharing. Olivia sat farther down the table with Justina and a subdued-looking Roberta. None of the sisters appeared to be very happy this morning, and Olivia had that sulky droop to her mouth that… well, Ivo admitted it. Made him want to kiss the life out of her. Not a helpful impulse, under the circumstances.
It wasn’t that long ago when he would have hurried to sit at her side. Whispering teasing things in her ear and daring her to meet with him alone. It sounded more improper than it had been. Mostly, they had just talked, or at least Olivia had been the one to talk, usually about her family, and Ivo had listened. He had sensed that she felt rather alone sometimes and needed a confidant, andhe enjoyed taking on that role.
His sisters would have laughed at the idea that their feckless brother could offer anyone good advice, but when Olivia had looked to him, he had felt… Well, why deny it? He had felt extraordinary. The soft glow in her eyes, the admiring smile on her lips. It depressed him a little, that it was unlikely she would ever ask him anything again.
Now, he murmured a general greeting and went to fill his plate from the covered dishes laid out on a side table. He was deciding between sausages and bacon, when there was the sound of a scuffle behind him at the door, followed by a quiet reprimand. Two of Olivia’s younger sisters and Vivienne had entered the room.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Olivia had risen to her feet, and her voice was surprisingly harsh. She sounded as if she was on the verge of a temper tantrum. Or tears.
For a moment, Ivo was confused, thinking she was talking to him, thatheshouldn’t be here. After all, she had already told him she couldn’t risk being in his company. Again, he felt that dip in his mood, remembering how things used to be, but he quickly pushed it aside when he saw that it was her siblings she was glowering at. Vivienne put her hands on the girls’ heads in a protective manner. “They have promised to be good,” she said. “Their governess has been seconded by your grandmother to help with preparations for the ball, so they have been left to their own devices.”
“Always a dangerous state of affairs.” Justina gave a grimace. “Where is Antonia?”
“She is helping set up the archery competition.”
“Archery?” Roberta brightened suddenly. “Can I—”
“Not for you,” Olivia said in that hard little voice.“Not after yesterday.”
Roberta shot her a fulminating look but after an inner struggle said, “I am going to apologize for that.”
“An apology does not make it better,” her sister retorted, as if that was the end of the matter. She was beginning to sound unnervingly like her grandmother at her most formidable.
“But it helps,” Vivienne reminded them as she led the way to the table. “Now, girls, what will you have to eat? Sausage and bacon and eggs? Toast and tea?”
“Black pudding,” Roberta murmured, and then laughed softly when her sisters pulled disgusted faces.
