But it was the window that overlooked the casino floor below that drew the eye. Olivia walked to the window and gazed down at the casino floor. On any night, a person could see everything from the window—the flurry of the dealers’ hands, the occupants at each table, and the meandering guests. The casino floor was empty today save for a few servants cleaning the floor in anticipation of that evening’s patrons.
A soft knock on the door sounded, and a maid carried in a tea tray and tea things then quickly departed. Olivia turned away from the window to join Ellie on the sofa.
Ellie poured two teacups, added a lump of sugar, and handed one to Olivia.
“Tell me everything.”
Olivia did. She started with the man she’d thought to be a groom, who’d become her alibi for a “stolen” necklace, who’d then turned out to be a duke. She ended with the wedding ceremony and the duke’s intention to leave her in the country.
Her sister’s blue eyes widened in outrage. “Blackguard! A gentleman should never treat a woman that way, let alone his wife. And why on earth did he present himself as a groom and not appear at his own house party?”
Olivia set down her teacup. She hesitated, unsure how to explain everything. “The duke speaks strangely.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember a maid we once had by the name of Cynthia before Father unfairly dismissed her?”
Ellie’s brows drew downward. “We were young, but I seem to recall she had difficulty speaking.”
“In a sense, so does the duke. He struggles with words. He has a stutter.”
“I see. That may explain some of his behavior, but I still find it inexcusable,” Ellie said. “You should know that the duke has frequented the Raven Club in the past.”
“He has?” She recalled when Tristan the groom had known of the Raven. She’d thought it odd then that a groom who worked a duke’s stables in the country would have even heard of the club. What a fool she’d been. Not only had he heard of the place, he’d visited it.
“He hasn’t worn a mask and people know when a duke is in their presence, but as far as I’m aware, he’s never spoken. I thought it odd but just believed the man wanted to be left alone. You do not need to speak to communicate with a dealer at one of the tables. Hand signals are more than adequate to place a bet.”
Olivia bit her lip. “I suppose it makes sense. He had no intention of ever appearing at his own house party.”
“He must be uncomfortable around others.”
“He stutters more when he is with others but not as much when we are together.”
Ellie looked at her with renewed interest. “That’s quite interesting.”
“I suppose.”
“Hmm. The duke is a handsome man,” her sister said.
“Ellie!”
“Oh posh, I’m happily married but not blind. Many women have vied for his attention here. Besides, it’s not what I think of the man but what you do.”
Olivia sat back on the cushions. “I hated the way he treated me after the ceremony. But the time we rode together—when I did not know he was a duke—I found him quite charming.” And attractive. Enough to kiss.
Her face must have revealed something that only a sister could see. “You kissed him.” It was more of a statement than a question.
She could lie, but why bother? This was Ellie, her closest confidant. “We did kiss, but it happened before I knew his true identity.”
“How was it?”
Scintillating. Heart-pounding. Much more arousing than her prior experiences with men, which had been limited to dances on a ballroom floor and a few secluded garden tours.
“It was pleasant,” she managed to say.
Ellie set down her teacup. “I do believe you should return to Keswick Hall.”
“You do?”
“I still think badly of Keswick for treating my sister abominably, but I’m also beginning to understand more. A duke who fears speaking must be distrustful of everyone. If your kiss is an indication, then there is hope for your marriage.”
“How?”
“I must meet him before I pass final judgment. Invite us to dinner tonight. It’s time he met your family.”
Olivia shook her head. “According to his housekeeper, he does not entertain.”
“When you say ‘does not,’ what do you mean?”
“It’s forbidden.”
“Forbidden? Well, as the new duchess, you must change that. We are family, and we would like to come to dinner to meet your new husband,” Ellie said.
“All right. But no one must know what I told you about our marriage.” She couldn’t bear the humiliation or the questions. Plus, her brother might leap over the dining room table and pummel Tristan if he knew everything.
“I shall not say a word, but Hugh can sense when I am upset,” Ellie said.
Olivia felt a stab of jealousy. What would it feel like to have a husband who adored her the way the marquess adored her sister?
“Fine, but please do not tell Ian and Grace.”
Ellie squeezed her hand. “I promise. You needn’t worry about them noticing anything amiss. They have our niece to keep them occupied. She is a handful, even more than little Alexander.”
“I miss them. All of them.” Thank goodness she had not obeyed her husband and had returned to town. Olivia vowed never to allow Tristan to separate her from her sister again. He’d rue the day.
Ellie tapped a finger on her chin. “Meanwhile, I am going to inquire about your mysterious duke.”
“What do you plan on learning that I haven’t been able to?”
Ellie’s lips curved in a mischievous smile. “You’d be surprised, my dear. The most valuable asset of the Raven Club is not money but information.”
…
The scrambling of his servants was Tristan’s first clue that something was afoot. Maids and footmen hurried past his study with an unusual energy and focused purpose, and he suspected his wife had something to do with it.
He left the study and walked by the dining room. The china was set, the crystal gleaming beneath the candles in the chandeliers.
Mrs. Ludson was seated at the table along with Cook and Olivia. From what he could hear, they were discussing a menu.
“What’s going on?”
Olivia pushed back her chair, and her lips curved in a smile.
His stomach tightened a fraction at her welcome, but he didn’t return the smile. He had his suspicions. She was up to something.
“My family is coming to dinner. Seven o’clock sharp. They are eager to meet you,” she said.
Blast! He’d been right to be mistrustful of that smile.
“I don’t d…d-o dinner parties.” Dammit, just the thought of hosting a dinner, let alone meeting her family, made him nervous.
“It is not a party. It is my family. They are eager to meet you.” She reached out to straighten his cravat.
It didn’t need straightening; his valet was entirely competent. Mesmerized by the plane of her cheek, he didn’t step back. Her scent wafted to him, a light and refreshing lavender, and he stiffened. Her fingers were white and slender, and he had a sudden image of her stroking his naked chest then downward to his groin.
He gritted his teeth against the erotic thought. “I will be out.”
She cocked her head to the side and regarded him. “I suggest you cancel your plans.”
He laughed hoarsely. “No.”
It was bad enough she’d disobeyed his orders for her to stay in the country. Now she was taking over his home and staff for her entertainment? He didn’t give a damn if it was her family. He wouldn’t put himself in that position.
She tsked. “I was afraid you would say that, but you should know the Earl of Castledon and Viscount Devlin want to meet you. If you are not present, they will come searching for you. It will be to your benefit to attend the dinner and play the loving husband.”
The loving husband.
He wanted to laugh
at the sentiment, but her meaning was clear. Her family was not to be trifled with. Her brother, the earl, and her brother-in-law, the marquess, were influential men. Both were members of the House of Lords, and even more important, both were owners of the Raven Club.
“Fine. I’ll attend,” he snapped.
She smiled up at him, and he was captivated by the bow of those lips. Her very kissable lips.
What was her game?
Chapter Ten
“I wondered what type of man would capture my sister’s heart,” the Earl of Castleton said as he sat next to Hugh in the dining room.
“We were sorry to miss the wedding, but young Catherine had a cold,” the Countess of Castleton said. She turned to her five-year-old daughter seated beside her. A pretty child with red hair like her mother’s and dark eyes like her father’s, Catherine played with the silverware.
Tristan raised his wineglass and drank, aware of Olivia seated at his side. She looked lovely in a moss-colored gown that emphasized the chips of green in her remarkable eyes. A pearl necklace drew attention to the smoothness of her neck. She gazed up at him, and if he didn’t know the truth, she appeared as if she were happy to be married to him.
Her performance was exemplary. Looking away, he took another sip of his wine.
Tristan focused on the words he’d rehearsed in his chamber for close to two hours. Calming his nerves, he spoke slowly. “It’s good to meet my wife’s family.”
Thank God. Clear and concise, just as he’d practiced.
“Seasons have passed, and we are happy Olivia has finally found love,” the Countess of Castleton said.
Lord and Lady Castleton may believe their act, but Olivia’s sister, Lady Vere, eyed him coolly. Olivia must have told the Countess of Devlin the truth of matters.
The door opened, and servants streamed in serving the second and then the third courses. The first, a creamy asparagus soup, had already been served. A footman placed a slice of fowl and one of ham on his plate, and it was soon accompanied by seasoned green beans. For not entertaining in years, his staff had performed in an exemplary manner.
Catherine fidgeted in her seat, appearing bored with the adult conversation and not impressed by the food. When the green beans appeared on her plate, she wrinkled her pert nose. She looked like she didn’t want to spend another minute sitting in the dining room.
He could commiserate.
“Olivia tells us your country stables are full of fine horses,” Castleton said.
Tristan swallowed his wine. So far, he’d spoken as little as possible. When he’d had to speak, the wine had helped. “Yes. I enjoy r…r-iding.”
He inwardly cringed, and he felt the all-too-familiar dread tighten his gut. “I—”
“He has a stallion that is quite magnificent. He brought Atlas to town. You must visit the mews or meet us in the park one day to see the horse, Ian,” Olivia said.
“I shall.” Castleton turned back to Tristan. “My sister likes horses, Your Grace. If she could have attended Tattersall’s, I fear she would have spent all my coin.”
They laughed, and his tension eased. He knew what Olivia had done, had been doing since her family had stepped foot in the marble vestibule, and he was grateful. Beneath the table, she reached out to his thigh in reassurance. His muscles tightened, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she knew his reaction to her touch.
“Catherine!” Lady Castleton cried out.
All eyes flew down the length of the table.
“Where did she go?” The lady pushed back her chair to glance beneath the table, but the missing child was nowhere to be found.
“Oh, Ian, she’s run again,” Lady Castleton said. “What are we to do?”
“Do not fret. She is just adventurous.”
“Adventurous! She is incorrigible,” Lady Castleton argued then turned to look at Tristan. “I apologize, Your Grace. Catherine knows better. Please pardon me while I search for her.”
Tristan pushed back his chair and was halfway to the door before she could move. “Allow me.”
He took a breath of relief as soon as he stepped into the hall. Even though things had gone more smoothly than he’d anticipated—mostly due to his wife’s unexpected aid—he was glad to have an excuse to leave.
It was clear Olivia came from a loving family. Aside from her sister, they all seemed convinced she’d married for love, would have settled for nothing less.
His housekeeper rounded the corner, her hands full of clean, folded linens. “Mrs. Ludson, have you seen a child?”
Her brows creased. “A child? No, Your Grace. Shall I have the servants search?”
He waved his hand and continued with the search himself. He’d been raised in Keswick Hall until his mother had shipped him off to boarding school. He was familiar with every room in the mansion. Where had he hidden as a boy when he’d seen the disapproval stamped on his mother’s face, having embarrassed her in front of her friends?
He opened a door and glanced inside the music conservatory. The room was empty save for a pianoforte and music stands.
A coal brazier burned low in the library, but the room was abandoned.
He didn’t bother to look into the nursery. Sheets covered the old cradle, and the door had remained closed since the day he’d ascended to the title. The cheery wallpaper had been removed and the room painted a pale white.
A flash of red hair caught his eye as he glimpsed into his study. He found the child spinning the globe on an end table by his desk.
“It b…b-elonged to my father. I used to spin it round and round as a child,” he said.
A pair of olive-dark eyes met his. “Are you going to make me go back?”
“No.”
“Good. It’s boring.”
“Truth is I’d r…r-ather stay here with you.”
She studied him curiously. “You talk funny.”
“Sometimes.”
“I don’t like grown-up talk.”
“I don’t, either.” The truth.
She looked about the room. “You need toys.”
“You haven’t spotted it yet?”
Her small, pink lips formed a perfect O. “A game of seek? I like that game.” Chubby fingers ran the edges of his desk as she searched.
“Not close,” he said.
She hitched up her skirts and looked under the two leather chairs before his desk.
“Still not close.”
She wrinkled her small nose. Round the room she searched while he gave her clues.
“Close.”
“Not close.”
“Close again.”
“Where? I want a hint.”
“Up.”
She tugged the leather chair up to the shelf, stood on it, and scanned the shelf. “I see it!” Reaching up, she removed her prize—a small wooden train with tiny wheels that spun.
Tristan helped her down. She weighed as little as thistledown. He set her on her feet and handed her the train.
She placed the toy on his desk and rolled the wooden wheels across the surface. “I play with dolls, but I like this, too.”
His mother had given it to him when he’d been about her age. It was the only gift he’d kept. He’d placed it on his study shelf and would look at it at times. It was a reminder of when the former duchess had still loved her young son, before she’d look upon him with disgust as he’d stumbled over his words. Expensive tutors had been obtained, many of them harsh and strict, but none had helped. His stutter had increased as he grew older. The duchess had grown as cold and cruel as his instructors.
Tristan placed the train in her hands. “My mother gave it to me when I was five, but you can keep it.”
“You’re giving it to me?”
He nodded.
“Are you going to make me go back to the dining room?”
He shook his head. “No, I meant what I said. I’ll send a servant to tell them you are fine and with me.”
“I like you, duke.”
&nb
sp; “Tristan.”
“I like you, Tristan. I’m glad you married my aunt Olivia. She’s always nice. Are you glad you married her?”
How to answer? He didn’t want to host a blasted dinner, but Olivia had eased his concerns this evening.
“Catherine!”
Startled, the little girl whirled to find her mother in the doorway. Behind her stood Olivia and her sister, Ellie. All three women stared. How long had they been there? How much had they overheard?
“Please, do not be h…h-arsh with her,” Tristan said.
“Oh, Mama! Look what Tristan gave me.” Elizabeth ran to her mother as she held up the wooden train.
“Catherine,” her mother said, her tone stern. “He is to be called His Grace.”
“But he told me to call him Tristan.”
“I did,” Tristan agreed.
“His mama gave him the train when he was a boy my age,” Catherine said.
“If his mother gave it to him, I do not think you should take it, Catherine,” Lady Castleton said.
“It’s hers,” Tristan said.
The child ran back to him and embraced him. “Thank you, duke. I promise to visit again.”
She smelled like lemon and sunshine. His arms reached around her slight body and hugged her back. Then she returned to her mother’s side and waved at him.
The mother apologized then took her daughter by the hand and headed back to the dining room. Olivia remained behind.
“Thank you,” she said.
“There’s no need to thank me.”
“Catherine likes you.”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
She smiled at that. “You were wonderful with my niece.”
Her green gaze was focused too intently on his face for his comfort. He needed to dissuade her of the notion that he wanted children or that they would ever have them.
“It’s one thing to like someone else’s child, but do not think, for a single moment, that we will be having any of our own.”
She blinked at the harshness of his tone then turned and walked away.
He should be satisfied. He’d made his point, hadn’t he?
How to Capture a Duke Page 7