Page 34 of An Innocent Little Scandal (Sensual Scandals)

Olivia jumped at the sound of the door closing. It seemed so… final, and yet, she should be relieved that the duke had finally departed. She did regret that they would be at odds now, for it would make for a very stressful and awkward passing in the halls, but it was infinitely better this way.

For both of them. She had no designs on marriage, and considering the fact that she’d met the duke on the road the very same night of the ball, when she had left London, it was obvious he wasn’t too keen on the notion either. She just had to pray that the duchess wouldn’t insist that he make an “honorable” woman of her since they had spent all of this time together unchaperoned. If that were the case, Olivia would certainly insist that she was still intact and nothing untoward had occurred.

At least, nothing that needed to be mentioned.

She stomped her foot and then reached up to feel for the pendant around her neck. However, instead of the item giving her comfort now, it only stood as a bitter reminder of her friendly acquaintance, Mr. Stone, who didn’t truly exist. Reaching around to the back, she undid the clasp and removed it. She held the miniature painting in the palm of her hand for a time, just staring at the scene, and then she walked over to her dressing table, opened a drawer, and tossed it inside.

At the moment, she couldn’t bear to part with it, but she was sure that, in time, she would have no such compulsions. While she didn’t know what the duke intended to do about their current arrangement, she wasn’t going to budge from this estate. He would just have to resign himself to the fact that she would be the wraith that roamed the halls.

She untied her bonnet and removed her cloak as she rang for her maid to return. What she needed was a long, soaking bath. Perhaps that would rid herself of this distasteful day for a time. If nothing else, she ought to be able to relax.

However, her solitude was broken moments later when there was a harried knock at her door. Mrs. Harper burst in with some rather shocking news. “My lady, your sisters have just arrived.”

She blinked. “Allof them?” she queried in disbelief.

“Yes.” The housekeeper nodded urgently. “Quite.”

“Oh, dear.” She wasn’t sure what to do, but she started for the door, for she certainly didn’t want Gravesend to be the first person they encountered. Unless, of course, theyalsoknew the truth.

Heaven help her wrath should they have kept this revelation from her…

Olivia headed down the stairs. She was still attired in her boots and riding habit, so no doubt, her appearance would raise a few brows, but likely not as much as her cold demeanor toward the duke should he dare make an appearance.

“Olivia! Praise be!”

Some of Olivia’s anger faded in the relief that flooded Araminta’s face as she rushed forward and tackled her at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, dearest, whatever could you have been thinking to travel on your own in such weather?” She paused, the hitch in her words causing Olivia’s guilt to rise even higher. In truth, it was nearly suffocating her.

“I’m sorry, Minty,” she returned quietly, and thoroughly chastised.

“She has been beside herself with worry ever since she returned home after the ball and read your note.”

Olivia glanced up through misty eyes at Greyson Hartfield, the Earl of Somers. His blue eyes were censorious, but also filled with compassion. She glanced to Araminta, whose cheeks had bloomed with color, and she knew what had happened even before she admitted it. “I fear you are the last to know, Livy, but we have been betrothed as of Christmas Eve.”

Olivia swallowed thickly. Even though she had suspected as much, the thought of losing Minty pained her greatly. But they were not children any longer, and she reminded herself that she had been the one willing to leave first. “I’m very happy for you both.”

“We would have arrived sooner, but the weather kept us from travel until just recently.” Araminta moved out of the way as Isadora stepped forward. As the eldest, she had always been the more somber one. Her brown hair looked as neat as if she’d returned from a society ball, rather than just endured hours of travel. But she hugged Olivia firmly. “I wish you would have been comfortable enough to talk to us, rather than set out on your own like you did. And on Christmas Eve.” She clucked her tongue and Olivia wanted to sink through the floor.

“Perhaps if you two spinsters hadn’t pressured her to go to London, then she wouldn’t have rebelled.” Calliope stepped forward with a toss of her red hair. “But then, when do either of you ask us anything? You merely assume that since we’re the youngest, we shall just willingly oblige with whatever you decide?” She winked at Olivia and then gave her a quick hug. But before she pulled back completely, she set her hands on Olivia’s shoulders with a decided pout. “I daresay I’m quite put out with you, Livy. First you try and drown on me, and then you run away!” She rolled her eyes. “I daresay, what will you do next week to try and stop my heart from beating?”

Olivia’s heart sank even further. “I’m sorry, Callie—"

“I wasn’t informed that we had guests.”

All eyes turned toward the raspy voiced speaker. Although Olivia lifted her chin and attempted to pretend indifference to the duke, her pulse sped up.

“Your Grace.” Araminta dipped into a light curtsy, as did the rest of Olivia’s siblings. The earl merely inclined his head.

Olivia did nothing.

“Lord Somers. Lady Bevelstroke. Lady Araminta. Lady Calliope.” He acknowledged each of them in turn.

He did not even look at Olivia.

“I might ask what you’re doing here,” Isadora said as she crossed her arms. “But I think I can wager a guess.”

“If it is that I am your father’s heir, then you would be correct,” he intoned evenly. “Much to your sister’s chagrin, I’m afraid.”

Araminta turned to Olivia with a shocked expression. “Livy, don’t you remember the Duke of Gravesend? What he did for you when—?”

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