Hell would be far preferable.
Though his worries did not begin and end with the social aspects of his sisters stepping into society. No, they were more profound than that. His sisters required a mother figure to guide them and see that they had the things young ladies needed. Someone to keep them on the right path. A lady they could look up to. One they could take their troubles too.
A photograph of a young lady caught William’s attention, and he strolled across the library to gain a better vantage point. There on the wall in a large guided frame hung a portrait of Lady Olivia. She looked to be around ten years old and just as he remembered. Gangly, her hair in braids, and her body long and flat.
He desperately hoped she’d grown some curves.
Regardless, Lady Olivia would serve his purposes, as well as any lady could.
More importantly, there was no need to waste time courting—he wasn’t required to woo her—this would be a quick and straightforward affair. He would do his duty, then take his wife home to see after his sisters and manage his house. In exchange, Lady Olivia would gain the title of duchess and a generous allowance, as well as the run of his estates. Once he secured his heir, she’d have all of the freedom he could afford her.
“Your Grace.” Lord Pemberton entered the room and bowed.
William returned the greeting encouraged by the good cheer reflected on Pemberton’s face. It seemed his soon to be father-in-law wasn’t holding a grudge.
William grinned at the older man before saying, “I imagine you know why I have come?”
“Indeed. Your letter arrived safely, and we are very much looking forward to the joining of our families.” Pemberton moved to his desk and nodded at a velvet chair across from it. “Please make yourself comfortable.”
William took the seat then accepter a tumbler of brandy. “Will Lady Olivia be joining us?”
“Ah, yes. My wife has gone to fetch her.” Pemberton shuffled some papers on his desk. “In the meantime did you wish to review the marriage contract?”
“There’s no need.” William had read the blasted thing thousands of times since its creation. Before his parents’ deaths, they had often reminded him of his duty and hounded him to see to his marriage. A stab of regret pierced him. He should have honored their wishes while they still lived. He added, “I’m well aquatinted with its contents and see no reason to alter the terms.”
“I have objections.” A feminine voice rang out from somewhere behind him, and William turned to see a dark haired beauty standing beside an older but equally attractive woman. He rose to greet them.
“Olivia,” Pemberton warned as he came to his feet.
William raised a hand to silence the man. “It’s quite all right.”
“Nonsense.” Lady Pemberton strolled deeper into the library, coming to stand beside her husband. “Please excuse our daughter’s ill-manor. I assure you she has been raised to behave as a proper lady ought to, Your Grace.”
“I’ve already forgiven the misstep.” William bowed to Lady Olivia. “My lady.”
“Your Grace.” She peered back at him through fiery amber eyes before dipping a curtsey.
William stared at her part amused and part vexed. What had happened to the wallflower he remembered? The awkward girl with arms and limbs too long for her thin frame?
The woman peering at him scarcely resembled the girl he’d been promised. Her temper most certainly did not. He attempted to cajole her with a rakish grin, but she only scowled more fiercely. Her displeasure plain for all to witness.
William took a step toward her. “Please voice your objection.”
The Marchioness paled, her eyes rounding as she turned her head to stared at her daughter. “She has none.” Lady Pemberton wrapped her arm around Lady Olivia’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”
Despite the question, William could tell by the way Lady Pemberton glared at Lady Olivia that it wasn’t really a question. To her credit, Lady Olivia met his gaze and said, “Actually, I do.”
The Marchioness turned porcelain, not a stitch of color remaining in her face, but Lady Olivia paid her no mind as she continued laying voice to her objection. “I have no wish to marry a stranger.”
Her father came around his desk, his cheeks flushed. “The duke is no stranger. You have been acquainted from childhood and betrothed just as long.”
“I beg to differ. I’ve not received so much as a letter in the past fifteen years. I do not know the duke at all.” Lady Olivia pressed her lips together and glared at William. “And I have no wish to marry him.”
William eased closer to Lady Olivia and said, “She’s right.”
Lord and Lady Pemberton turned to him their mouths agape. Lord Pemberton recovered first. He placed a hand on his wife’s arm, but his gaze remained riveted on William as he said, “Surely you do not mean—”
“And we shall have a lifetime to correct my oversight,” William added cutting the marquess off. He returned his attention to Lady Olivia, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I intend to honor my parent’s wishes. I’ve secured a special license so that we can marry with haste. Afterward, we can spend as much time as you please getting reacquainted.”
Her eyes rounded the copper flecks darkening. “You wish to marry at once?”
“Indeed,” William answered.
Lady Olivia backstopped and turned panicked eyes on her father. “Surely waiting for the bans to be read is not asking too much.”
“Dearest,” her father crossed over to her and took her hands. “You are betrothed and will ultimately be wed, what difference does it make if the ceremony takes place tonight or three weeks from now?”
“It makes a world of difference.” She turned her beseeching gaze on William. “Please. Allow us to wait for the banns?”
“If that is your wish, I shall honor it.”
William surprised himself with the words more than anyone else. He could not say why he’d agreed, only that something in the way she pleaded tugged at his heart.
He had no wish to make her unhappy, that had never been his goal. In fact, he hoped that in time they would develop a care for one another. Regardless, he intended to be a good husband. He may not have chosen her, but he’d not make her suffer because of it.
If waiting for the banns to be read set her at ease, then that is what they would do. In the meantime, William would strive to win her over.
Chapter 3
Olivia wanted to kick herself, or better yet, him. Had she truly begged? Her cheeks heated at the knowledge that she had indeed. But then she’d have done anything to forestall their marriage. At least now she would have three weeks to figure a way out of it.
The Duke of Thorne stepped closer to her, his gaze locked on hers. “If we are to use the time gained from having the banns read to become better acquainted, I see no reason to delay the desired outcome. Do join me for a stroll through the garden?” His Grace proffered his arm.
Olivia took a moment to inspect him. She had to admit that he’d changed a great deal since she’d last seen him. No longer did his face appear pudgy nor did his midsection bulge. He was a great deal taller as well, though that was to be expected. What truly took her by surprise was how handsome he’d become.
Sandy-blond hair cut in the latest fashion framed his face, a wayward strand brushing against his temple drawing her attention to his eyes. He possessed bright blue eyes the color of a summer sky that captivated her as much as they sent alarm through her.
For heaven’s sake, she wasn’t supposed to find him attractive.
Begrudgingly, she wove her hand around his offered arm. Olivia found herself once more surprised by the mass of muscle she discovered in so doing. It seemed he had changed a great deal indeed. She’d be hard pressed to deny what a handsome man he’d grown into.
Still, she did not wish to marry him.
Would never want to become his wife.
She met her mother’s gaze as the duke led her from the room. Sur
ely Mother did not intend to let him sweep her away without the benefit of a chaperone, and yet… “Mother?”
“Yes?”
Olivia gave her a friendly smile. “Should we not have the benefit of a chaperone?”
“You are to be married, darling. A chaperone isn’t needed in such situations.” Mother shook her head as though Olivia had said the most obtuse thing.
Olivia released a breath of frustration as they crossed the threshold.
The duke turned her down the hallway before leaning close, bringing his mouth close to her ear. “I promise not to ravish you…unless you want me to.”
A pleasant shiver spread through her as the warmth of his breath fanned her ear. Ignoring the odd sensation, she kept her gate steady and her attention on the path before her. What the devil was wrong with her? She did not want to find anything about him pleasant. Not his warmth, nor his muscular body, certainly not his bawdy flirting, and most definitely not his sinful good looks.
Perhaps one of her friends would take a fancy to him? Folly, the single word spun through her mind. Madame Zeta had said she’d find love on the wings of folly. Maybe if she attempted to match one of her friends with the duke, she could be rid of him.
The idea held merit for Juliet had seemed rather taken with the notion of becoming a duchess. Furthermore, she was beautiful. Surely if given the opportunity to meet and a bit of encouragement the two would take a fancy to one another. Olivia decided at that moment to see it done.
With an idea in hand, she felt far more relaxed as the duke led her into the garden. She didn’t yet have a plan, but that would come in due time. For now, she’d cling to the scheme and develop a way. If she gave it enough effort, she had no doubt it would work.
She slanted her gaze to the duke as they strolled past a hedgerow, the sun shining brightly down on them. “Why now?” The question left her mouth before she had time to consider it. The moment the words escaped her, she desperately wished to take them back.
What did she care why he’d come when all she wanted was to be rid of him?
“I find myself in need of a wife,” he answered.
His simple reply led to more questions forming in her mind, and she suddenly did wish for answers. She deserved them, after all, he had left her wanting for a considerable amount of time. Did she not have a right to know why? Of course, she did. Most other ladies would have broken the betrothal long ago. Yet she did not, and now she had a right to know what had kept him away.
She stole a glance at him then wondered, why hadn’t she called off? She should have appealed to Father. Attempted to reason with him. Requested the right to find a husband of her choosing. Anything would have been better than quietly sitting on the shelf and waiting…hoping he’d not come.
Nonsense, Olivia knew perfectly well why she hadn’t taken action. The Duke of Thorne had seemed safe considering that he completely ignored her. She’d had no cause to think he would honor the agreement and every reason to believe herself free. If she’d have broken the betrothal, Father would have expected her to find a husband, and that was the last thing Olivia wanted.
But then it seemed to be the last thing the duke had wanted too. What changed his mind? She gave him a questioning glance and said, “But you did not need a wife before?”
His eyebrows drew together as though she were testing his patience. “Before I didn’t have the responsibility of three young ladies to care for.”
He cringed right before he spoke causing Olivia to avert her gaze. She turned her attention to the flowering bushes they were presently strolling past. Perhaps Olivia wasn’t the one testing him at all. She knew very little about his sisters—nary a thing truly—but could well imagine that he was far from his comfort zone now that he found himself as their guardian.
“How old are they?” She met his gaze, a light breeze fanning her face.
“Old enough to be bothersome.” He chuckled.
Swatting at his arm with a playfulness that surprised her, she said, “Do be serious.”
“It was well worth the jest to see you smile.” His blue gaze dazzled matching the wide grin he shot her way. “You’re rather stunning when you smile.”
Olivia found in near impossible not to be charmed by his playfulness. All the same, she did want an answer. She notched her chin forcing what she hoped was a stern set to her jaw. “I desire an answer, Your Grace.”
He turned them down another path, bordered with bluebells. “Very well. Elizabeth is the youngest at sixteen. Then there is Louisa who’s eighteen and Catherine who is nineteen. Both are of age for a season. All three require a lady’s guidance.”
The blasted man wanted her for no other reason than to see after his sisters. The nerve of him! She could not fight the scowl that creased her face as she asked, “And you believe me capable of launching them on society?”
He drew her to a stop and moved to face her. “I believe you capable of a great many things.” He smoothed the back of his hand over her cheek. “We have been betrothed from childhood. Both of us have always known the day would come for us to marry. I fail to see the problem.”
She shivered at the cool tone of his voice. “I once believed that to be so, however, after I came of age and you still failed to so much as pen me a letter, I decided you were not interested in the arrangement. I believed myself free.”
“And now?” He arched one blond eyebrow, speculation in his gaze.
“And now I have no wish to wed.”
“Then we are at a crossroad as I desire to marry you.”
A small and long ago dream sparked to life. Could he genuinely wish for a lifetime with her? Did he want to have a family with her? To share his challenges and successes? Her pulse quickened as she pondered the possibilities.
Sighing, she pushed any bit of hope she had back into the depths of her soul. If any of that were true, he’d not be in such a rush. For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even know her. Gentleman did not long to marry ladies they didn’t know. Did they?
She met his gaze with the question lingering on her tongue. Did she even care if he were sincere? Her plans did not include marriage—not to him, not to anyone—so how could it matter?
Still, she needed to know; why now? And more importantly, why her? She squared her shoulder’s and said, “Very well. Am I correct in saying that you choose now because you need a woman’s hand to help with your sisters?”
All teasing feed from his gaze. “It hardly signifies, but yes.”
Barley contained anger ignited deep within Olivia. Hardly signified her foot. It mattered a great deal to her. Though not so much as her other question.
She drew in a slow breath, moved to trail her finger’s over a nearby blossom. Suppressing her anger and drawing on courage, she said, “You know nothing about me.”
“I know all that I need too.” He came to stand beside her.
She turned back to him, her heart pounding, and asked the one question that truly mattered, “Why me? And don’t you dare use the betrothal for an excuse.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as though he were about to grin then thought better of it. “I have no wish to hunt for a wife, no time to court and woo a lady. You are convenient,” he said.
“How lovely.” Olivia stiffened. “It’s a wonder I don’t swoon into your arms at such romantic sentiments.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
The duke drew closer and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You stand to gain a great deal in the bargain. Not only will you become a duchess, but you will also enjoy a generous allowance in addition to your dowery. Furthermore, you will have all of the freedom permitted a wife.”
Olivia could do nothing more than gape at him in horror. She saw no warmth in his gaze, heard no tenderness in his words. The duke did not love her. A fact she’d well understood from the moment his letter arrived—a fact she’d accepted years prior.
His lack of care did not surprise her, but his coolness most certainly took her by surprise. He was a
cold and calculating man, incapable of loving anyone. He viewed their impending marriage as nothing more than a business arrangement.
Her stomach soured at the realization for it meant that she couldn’t match him with Juliet. Her friend desired love, dreamed about it and believed in it. The duke would crush her spirit and ruin her cheery disposition.
Olivia could never allow for such a thing to happen. Not to herself and most certainly not to Juliet. She’d have to find another way to save herself from this dreadful arrangement.
Folly… The word echoed through her mind. If she hoped to be rid of him, she’d have to do something drastic.
But what?
Chapter 4
Olivia sat in the garden, taking tea with Emma and Juliet. The day greeted them with warm sunshine and a gentle breeze carrying the scent of orchids and honeysuckle. How perfect it would be if only she didn’t have to concern herself with impending doom. She added a lump of sugar to her tea, then said, “I fear that the duke may well be the devil.”
Juliet’s laughter tinkled through the air while Emma gave Olivia a stern look.
“I tell you true,” Olivia said firmly, as she stirred her tea.
Juliet’s laughter faded into a bright smile. “I’m sure he’s not.”
“Of course, he isn’t,” Emma added, adjusting her bonnet to better shield her face from the sun.
Olivia shook her head. “If you saw the way he behaves when we’re alone, you’d change your minds,” she said, then brought her teacup to her lips and took a slow sip of the hot brew.
“Why? How does he behave?” Juliet leaned forward, her eyes dancing with mischief. “You must confide in us?”
Olivia glanced at Emma, who simply sipped her tea as though she had no opinion or curiosity over the subject at all. Their eyes met, and Emma lowered her teacup. “Yes, do confide in us so I can set your mind at ease.”
“Very well,” Olivia propped her elbows on the table. “To begin with, he says inappropriate things.”
A Wallflower's Folly: Fated for a Rogue , Book 1 (Fortunes of Fate 6) Page 2