“Such as,” Juliet prompted.
“He told me he would not ravish me unless I wished for it.” Her cheeks warmed as she repeated his words. Only a scoundrel would say such a thing. Had he expected her to swoon into his arms?
Juliet gasped, her hand coming to her lips. “Did you blush then as you are now?”
“Hush.” Olivia shook her head.
Emma waved her hand, dismissively. “Perhaps his words were a bit inappropriate but hardly scandalous as he is to be your husband.”
Olivia tapped her fingers against the side of her teacup. “He has a way of standing to close and touching me too freely. For example, he placed his hand on my shoulder without cause or invitation.”
“Hardly untoward behavior,” Emma said, her gaze trained on Olivia.
Juliet rolled her eyes. “I must agree with Emma. It seems you are reaching. Perhaps he is a bit of a rogue, but hardly the devil.”
“You are both wrong,” Olivia said. “But regardless, there is more you must hear. He told me that he desires to marry now because his sisters need a mother figure. No other reason. I’m to be a caretaker, launch them on society and guide them as a mother would.”
Juliet pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing. “That is not at all romantic.”
“Absolutely not.” Emma shook her head. “However, it is most practical.”
“I do not want practical.” Olivia sighed. “I have no wish to be treated as staff. No inclination to endure a marriage of convenience—worse, a marriage that offers nothing for me beyond lonely night’s and tedious days.”
“Of course not, darling.” Juliet reached for Olivia’s hand and gave a comforting squeeze. “We shall help you.” She turned her gaze on Emma. “Shan’t we?”
“Most certainly,” Emma agreed, her bright smile falling seamlessly back into place.
Olivia sipped from her teacup, taking a moment to gather her wits. The fortuneteller’s words circled through her mind for the hundredth time, and she said, “Madame Zeta said folly would find me love. What do you suppose she meant?”
Emma’s mouth twisted up in disapproval, and she shook her head. “It’s poppycock. Don’t base your decisions on veiled words from a fortuneteller.”
“I disagree,” Juliet’s eyes sparkled as she sat her tea aside. “You must do something drastic to dissuade his grace. Make him see you as unfit for the role of mother.”
Olivia sipped her tea. If the duke thought her to be a bad influence, he’d surely call off the engagement. Mother and Father would be furious with her, though all would be worth the consequences because, in the end, she would gain her freedom. But what could she do to make him see her as unfit? To make his stomach sour at the idea of her caring for his sisters?
As though Juliet could read Olivia’s mind, she leaned forward and gave a mischievous smile. “You must act like a hoyden. Let him see you doing things a lady dare not do.”
Emma paled, her lips pressing into a thin line.
Olivia ignored Emma’s apparent distaste for the idea and turned her attention back to Juliet. “I could slouch in my chair when he’s around.”
“That would be a start, but you have to think of things more drastic.” Juliet tapped her finger against her cheek. “I know. You can ride astride…in trousers. And toss out a cuss word here and there.”
“She couldn’t!” Emma gasped, clearly appalled at the thought of such unladylike behavior.
Olivia could not help but laugh at Emma’s quick reaction. “I can.” In fact, Olivia rather liked the idea. Furthermore, she would do anything to be rid of the duke—well, almost anything. She smiled, then directed her words in Emma’s direction. “And I will. I shall invite His Grace to go for a ride later today.”
“Truly?” Emma’s gaze locked on Olivia.
Olivia gave a firm nod. “Nothing is to be lost from trying to dissuade him.”
“On the contrary. Nothing is to be gained. Your parents will be livid should you succeed, and you may well lose your reputation along the way,” Emma argued.
“I have no need of a reputation when my heart’s desire is to remain unwed.” Olivia nibbled at her lip. “Oh, please do help me think of more unladylike behaviors I might employ? Won’t you, Emma?”
Emma stared at Olivia for long heartbeats before at last, she sighed. “Oh, very well. I suppose you could hike up your skirts and run down the halls or kick off your slippers and dart across the lawn.”
“Perfect!” Olivia clasped her hands together, excitement thrumming through her.
Juliet gave a conspiratorial wink. “I’d wager he calls off before weeks end, and that your reputation doesn’t suffer in the least.”
“I suppose if you save your antics for times when your parents are not watching, you may well get away with the scheme completely,” Emma added. “After all, everyone knows you’re a wallflower, and wallflower’s do not act in such ways.”
“So true,” Juliet bobbed her head in agreement. “Most people pay us no mind, and those who do, believe us to be perfect ladies. Dull even. They’d never think you capable of blatantly breaking the rules.”
Olivia could not argue with her friend’s points. She’d never purposely broken a societal rule in all of her three and twenty years. Though Olivia was most certainly capable of doing what she must to get what she wanted. She had to believe that.
Olivia had never truly been shy or quiet. In fact, it was her outgoing nature that started her friendship with Juliet and Emma. She’d have to rely on that particular trait to pull this off. Nothing short of convincing the duke that she was a true hoyden would suffice.
Yes, she could do this.
Olivia grinned at her friends. “I am quite certain that I’m up to the task.” She poured herself another cup of tea and settled into her seat, looking forward to her next encounter with the duke.
Three hours later, she entered the stable wearing a pair of borrowed trousers. With her heart thrumming, she mounted her horse. The duke would be joining her soon, and she desperately needed a bit of practice before he did.
Olivia had sweet-talked the stable master into giving her a short lesson for she’d never rode astride. Pray the duke not notice here lack of skill.
“Place your feet in the stirrups,” the stable master instructed.
She did as told, deciding nearly straight away that she rather liked sitting astride. She had more balance, and there was less pressure on her hip. “Like this?” She asked.
The kindly old man gave her a smile. “Yes, indeed. Now tap your heels against the horse.”
She gave a gentle tap, then scrunched her brow together when the horse did nothing. Olivia tried again. This time with more force and the beast jolted forward. She gave a squeal of surprise as she tugged back on the reins.
“Easy,” the stable master called out. “Use the reins as you always have and keep your weight centered in the saddle.”
Olivia concentrated on doing just that, and before long, she was riding with more ease.
“There you go. Now nudge the mount into a cantor.”
She did as told and the horse picked up speed, causing her to wobble in the saddle. Startled she grabbed for the saddle horn.
“Keep your hands on the reins,” the stable master hollered.
Her heat pounded as she regained control of her mount. This simply would not do. The duke would instantly discover her subterfuge. As she was about to ask the stable master to ready her sidesaddle, the duke strolled into view. Olivia stiffened her posture as well as her resolve. It was too late to turn back now.
Chapter 5
William could scarcely believe the sight that greeted him. Olivia clad in little more than tan trousers and a white shirt, sitting astride a grey mare. She shot him a sly grin then turned to say something to the stable-master. What the Duce was she up to?
More importantly, why the devil did his body react so fiercely to the sight of her? His gaze trailed the length of her from her flowing hair to h
er boot-clad feet, then traveling back up to stop for another look at the place where her trousers hugged her hips and thighs.
Bedding her would be his pleasure. Of that, he had no doubt.
He tore his gaze from her sharply legs and strode into the stable where he mounted his own horse. The tightness in his own trousers making the task rather unpleasant. The wench was torturing him, but it would be short-lived torture to be sure.
When he emerged from the stables, he brought his mount close to hers. In a low voice, he asked, “Where is your riding habit?”
“I prefer trousers.” She gave a mischievous smile.
He studied her for a moment. No doubt she was playing a game. Her posture did not appear confident, and he’d noticed a quick flash of unease in her amber eyes. He should call her out. Demand she changes into proper attire and has her saddle replaced.
William narrowed his eyes, debating his next move. Perhaps it would be best to let her have her fun. He gave a wicked smile, then said, “Very well.”
He relished the blush that crept over her cheeks as he unabashedly raked his gaze over her. The sight of her bottom in those tight fitting trousers and her bosom barely contained beneath the flimsy shirt would make his silence on the mater worth his while. Meeting her eyes, he asked, “Shall we?”
“Indeed,” Olivia smiled, then nudged her horse.
William lagged behind, taking a moment to enjoy the delectable display of her bottom bouncing in the saddle, then set his horse into motion. Before long, he rode beside her at a slow gate. When they reached the open field beyond the pasture, he turned to her. “Do you often ride astride?”
Olivia hesitated for a moment then notched her chin up. “Every chance I get.”
“Interesting as you do not appear confident in your saddle.”
Her cheeks flushed. “It is only that you make me nervous, Your Grace.”
He could almost hear the lie in her voice. Rather than take her to task for her deception, he’d have his own fun. “Then let us increase our pace,” he challenged.
Kicking his stallion into a gallop, he glanced back at her. Did she have enough steel in her to accept his challenge? He’d wager that she did for she’d already proven herself brave if not foolish by dressing and riding as she was.
Olivia nibbled at her lower lip as she readjusted her reins, and for a moment he thought she may disappoint him.
But then, she was galloping beside him. Her chestnut hair waving in the wind, its coper highlights glistening in the sunlight. Her beauty struck him, but it was the deep look of concentration etched onto her face that truly captured his attention. She may be playacting, but she was determined to see it through. A quality he most certainly admired and hoped would carry over into their marriage.
He should be appalled at her lack of feminine behavior, but William would wager she was acting out for his benefit. He knew her to be a wallflower, not a hoyden. Surely if she acted in such a way on a regular bases, word of her scandalous ways would have reached him.
Lady Olivia had one aim in mind—to dissuade him. He’d bet his dukedom on that assumption—and he’d no doubt win. Unfortunately for his intended, he found her all the more interesting for her escapade. Her antics showed him that she was more than a shy bit of fluff, and now he wished to know her better.
A pond came into view, and William slowed his pace until his mount was walking beside Olivia’s. Her chest rose and fell as she took in breaths, and her cheeks were rosy from the exertion of their ride. He wanted to reach out and brush the tendrils of coppery brown hair that had come loose and now framed her heart-shaped face.
“That was exhilarating,” she grinned at him, her eyes sparkling.
He patted his horse’s shoulder. “Do you not often gallop?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said.
A pity, he thought, for she looked lovely doing so. Wanton and wild, just as he imagined she’d look riding him. The thought took him by surprise as he’d had no notions that he’d find himself attracted to her. He certainly hadn’t been as a child. The prospect of their marriage became more pleasing by the minute.
He nodded toward the pond they were approaching. “We should stop and allow the horses to drink.”
She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and glanced at the pond.
He studied her wondering at her hesitation, then said, “Some cool water will benefit them after being ridden so hard.”
Olivia turned back to him and gave a nod.
William led them to the edge of the pond then dismounted and turned to her. “Allow me to help you down.”
“My horse can drink without me dismounting.”
So she was afraid to leave her saddle. He met her eyes, and the corner of his mouth tipped up. “True. However, I’d like to spend a bit of time here.” He strode closer and reached out his hand. “Allow me to help you down?”
She jostled her reins between her hands. Glanced around the open space then returned her attention to him. “The afternoon grows late, Your Grace.”
“You’re afraid,” he challenged.
“Not in the least,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“Prove it.” He reached out and scooped her from her horse.
Olivia squealed as he swung her through the air before placing her feet on the ground. She peered at him, her lips slightly puckered.
Lord, she was beautiful even in her anger. He’d endeavor to cause her vexation more often if only to see that fire in her gaze.
“You got too far,” she seethed.
“My apologies.” He gave a slight bow.
She took a step back, her amber eyes locked on his. “I’m not a simpering miss to be ordered around and handled at your will.”
“Duly noted.” Perhaps, for now, he should endeavor to woo her. “I see that you have a strong, independent nature. How is it that you have become known as a wallflower when your actions are in direct opposition?”
“I choose to be such.” She turned away from him and stroked her hand up and down the mare’s neck.
“Why would you choose to stay apart from your peers?” He asked as he drew nearer to her.
Olivia ignored his movement as she continued petting her horse. “I had no reason to engage them. I was already promised to you.”
His gut clenched at the realization that he’d doomed her to years of loneliness and board by ignoring his responsibility to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “I’m truly sorry that I did not come for you sooner.”
She shrugged his hand away. “Don’t be.”
“Why shouldn’t I regret my actions?” He asked.
Olivia spun around to face him. “I choose not to engage society. Even after I determined you were not going to step up, I choose to remain a wallflower. It is my wish.” Her gaze grew hard. “Marriage is not a desire of mine.”
His jaw twitched and tightened at her proclamation—at the determination in her voice. “That is unfortunate because I am quite determined to do my duty.”
“Unfortunate, indeed.” She released a sigh as she glanced out at the pond. “I would very much like to return to the house now.”
“As you wish.” He returned to his mount and swung into the saddle before looking over at her.
Olivia had one foot in the stirrup, her hand on the saddle. She pulled and jumped, but could not quite manage to mount. More evidence that she was merely pretending to know what she was about.
William ignored the urge to tease or chastise and moved to help her. Without a word, he lifted her onto the saddle. Olivia simply notched her chin, took the reins, and nudged her horse.
By the time he remounted, she was well on her way.
He made no effort to catch her. Instead, he rode along a few furlongs behind. He had no wish to further upset her today. In fact, he now had the urge to make thing up to her. She could hardly be blamed for making other plans for her life when he’d neglected her so severely. A fact he could now kick himself for.
; He owed her a great debt. There was nothing for it. William would have to woo her—make her want him for a husband and a friend. Spark her desire and make up for the years of neglect he’d bestowed upon her.
He fervently hoped she would come around before their wedding, but fully intended to marry her nonetheless. He had no choice in that regard. He would do all he could between now and then to win her.
If he failed… No, that was not an option.
Chapter 6
Olivia removed her wrapper and turned to climb into bed. A small piece of parchment caught her eye, and she paused. She strolled across the bedchamber and scooped it up then turned it over in her hand. Someone must have slipped it under her door—and recently, for she was quite sure it hadn’t been there a moment before.
Her fingers shook a little as she unfolded the note, then read its contents. One masculine scrolled line followed by an initial.
Meet me in the library.
~W
She folded the parchment, unfolded it, then reread the words. What the devil did the duke want? More importantly, should she go? No, it would not be proper. The two of them alone. Besides, she had already donned her night clothes.
Olivia strolled to the fire and tossed the note into the low flame. As the parchment ignited, so to did her curiosity. She tossed open her amour and fished inside for a gown. Just this once, she told herself. Pulling out a plain pink frock, she turned to pull the call bell, then changed her mind.
She aimed to appear unladylike. To convince the duke that she wasn’t a fit role model for his sisters. Perhaps going to him in her wrapper would sway his opinion of her merits as a mother figure and societal guide. Her cheeks warmed at the scandalous idea.
Ignoring the rapid thumping of her heart, Olivia pulled on her wrapper and fastened it. She cracked her bedchamber door and peered into the hallway. All was quiet. No-one was about, and the passageway was dark save for a few flickering lamps.
She pushed the door open fully then stepped from her room. Her pulse hammered as she made her way to the library. Twice she contemplated turning back but ultimately continued on her way. By the time she reached the library, her cheeks blazed, and her breaths came in quick succession.
A Wallflower's Folly: Fated for a Rogue , Book 1 (Fortunes of Fate 6) Page 3