How could he do it? How could he deny her?
“I agree. If you win.”
Her lips, her very kissable lips, curved in a feminine smile. “I never lose.”
Chapter Eighteen
Olivia’s heart beat irregularly as she gazed up at Tristan. He bent on a knee to look Alexander in the eye and spoke softly to the boy. “We can do this.”
“Yes, we can!” Alexander cried.
“We don’t have an extra hoop and stick,” Catherine pointed out.
“We don’t need one if we are to race in teams. The children shall race to the middle of the garden, then your auntie and I shall take over until the end,” Tristan said.
Olivia eyed him speculatively. “It will make it extra challenging for the hoops not to fall down.”
Tristan arched a dark eyebrow. “Are you reneging?”
She raised her chin. “Never.”
His infectious grin was devastating. When had her husband become so charming? Was this the same man who’d stared her down in the stables of Rosehill and accused her of treachery? He didn’t look at all angry or aloof—two emotions she’d become accustomed to from him—but much more amicable and likable.
Her heart skipped a beat, and a tangle of fear and emotion knotted in her chest.
He walked to the terrace and motioned to where the stone ended and the grass began. “We shall start here.”
Alexander and Catherine lined up. Catherine looked determined. Alexander chewed his bottom lip.
Once more, Tristan knelt by the boy. “Keep it upright and look ahead to the middle of the yard. I’ll be with you the entire way.”
Alexander bravely nodded as he clutched his hoop.
The children set their hoops upright with one hand and held their sticks ready in the other.
“Ready. Set. Go!” Tristan shouted.
The children were off, driving their hoops forward with their sticks across the grass as fast as they could. Catherine, a year older, was slightly in the lead. Both Tristan and Olivia were by their teammate’s sides, cheering them on. When Alexander’s hoop began to wobble, threatening to fall, Tristan gave quick advice. “Keep driving it with your stick.”
At the halfway point, both hoops wobbled and fell. Laughing, Olivia and Tristan picked them up and were off. Olivia took advantage of Catherine’s slight lead and used her stick to drive the hoop toward the finish line. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan catching up, his long legs making up the distance.
Excitement coursed through her veins, and she renewed her efforts. The finish line was close in sight, and the excited shouts of the children filled the garden. She ran faster and faster. She would win!
At the last moment, Tristan overcame her, and his hoop crossed the finish line before hers. Olivia’s hoop wavered and collided with his. She would have fallen along with it if Tristan hadn’t grasped her around the waist to steady her. For a brief moment, she was hauled against his muscular chest like a mainstaff.
Her breathing was ragged from her run as she looked up at him. Awareness thundered through her at the smoldering intensity in his gaze. She could see that he was hungry for contact. For her or for what had just occurred in the garden with the children? His loneliness and need struck a chord deep within her breast. What must it be like to live in isolation, never to desire to grow closer to someone? Pressed against him, she grew aware of his heat and strength, and flames licked along her skin.
The invisible web of attraction that had been building between them tightened and strengthened, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Heavens, he looked like he was about to kiss her.
Was he going to kiss her?
“We won!” Alexander ran toward them.
In a flash, the trance between them was broken, and he released her.
The little boy threw himself into Tristan’s arms. Tristan picked him up and spun him around. “We did. And all because I had a wonderful partner.”
Olivia watched, fascinated, as the duke once again changed into a warm, captivating man. It had been like this when she’d first seen him alone with Catherine in his study. He hadn’t been upset the girl had wandered away from the dining room and into his private domain. Not only had he not been angry, he’d given her a toy that had been a gift from his mother.
And now, he seemed happy.
Warmth rushed through her, and she found herself studying him, to see what he would do next.
Alexander’s face beamed. “Do I really get a toy train?”
“As promised,” Tristan said.
Catherine pouted. “It wasn’t fair. Your legs are longer than Auntie Olivia’s. How was she to win?”
Tristan lowered Alexander and ruffled Catherine’s hair. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair. How about I take all of us to Gunter’s?”
Catherine took his hand. “When?”
“Now. That is if it’s all right with your aunt?”
Both children turned to her, expectant looks on their adorable faces. “Can we?” Catherine asked.
“Say yes, Auntie Olivia!” Alexander urged.
“Say yes,” Tristan added.
Her gaze moved from the children to the approval flashing in the duke’s eyes. Her chest tightened. The heart was tricky and had a mind of its own. If a woman wasn’t careful, it could easily be crushed.
…
“Orange ice is my favorite,” Catherine said.
“Lemon is mine,” Alexander added.
“What do you l…l-ike?” Tristan asked Olivia.
Olivia picked up her spoon and sampled her unusual but savory flavor. “Parmesan.”
Tristan winked. “Good choice. Mine as well.”
They sat in wire-backed chairs in the famous confectioner’s shop and enjoyed their treats. Olivia couldn’t help but stare at her husband. Just like when they had raced their hoops, he was remarkably at ease—charming and likable. She was totally entranced by this compelling side of him. She studied his profile, the lean, chiseled features, the dark hair and sun-bronzed skin, and she felt like a breathless girl of eighteen again.
“Father bought me a pony,” Alexander said.
“Has your Aunt Olivia seen it? From what I recall, she likes fast horses.” Tristan looked at her, and she felt a curious sweeping pull in her stomach.
Everyone was watching her and waiting for her answer. “I have seen him. Alexander named him Henry for one of his friends.”
Tristan nodded. “A fine name for a horse.”
“What did you name your favorite horse?” Alexander asked.
“Atlas,” Olivia answered. “He’s the most beautiful stallion I’ve ever set eyes upon.”
Catherine wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like horses. They frighten me.”
“It depends on the horse. Some are quite friendly and like children. Others, not so much,” Tristan said.
“What about Atlas?” Catherine asked.
“He’s a handful,” Tristan said.
“I bet my Auntie Olivia can ride him,” Alexander boasted.
“I’ll k…k-eep that in mind,” Tristan said.
They finished their ices and pushed back their chairs. Once they were back in the carriage, Tristan surprised them when he announced they would go shopping for Alexander’s train.
Alexander bounced on the carriage bench. “You are the best duke!”
“His name is ‘Your Grace,’” Catherine said. “He told me to call him by his Christian name, but Mama made me swear to address him by his title.”
“If your mama is not here, y…y-ou may call me Tristan.”
Catherine’s face beamed like he’d given her a bag of silver. “See?”
“Her mother will be concerned,” Olivia said.
“You won’t tell her, will you?” Tristan asked.
Olivia’s heart thudded in her chest at his grin.
The carriage came to a stop outside a Bond Street shop. He leaped out, and not waiting for the coachman, he lowered the step himself and lifted the chi
ldren out.
When it was her turn, he took Olivia’s arm and helped her alight. “What is it?”
She clutched the straps of her reticule. “My niece and nephew adore you.”
“I like them, too.”
Suddenly, the pleasure of the afternoon left her, and a sadness tightened in her chest. He was exceptional with the children, but he was also determined to deny himself the gift of fatherhood. She wished there was something she could do to help him see that the risk was well worth the reward. He would make a wonderful father.
“Come along,” he urged, “before Alexander drags us inside searching for his toy train.”
A wooden sign that read Smithy’s swung noisily on ungreased hinges.
“How do you know there are toys here?” Olivia asked.
“You’ll see.”
The little bell chimed when they entered the establishment. An old man with a white beard was behind a wooden counter. “How may I help—” His eyes twinkled when he spotted Tristan. “Your Grace! How wonderful to see you. Do you require another bookcase for your study?”
“Hello, Mr. Smithy. No bookcase t…t-oday. We are in search of a wooden train, similar to the one you made for me many years ago. Do you have such an item?”
Mr. Smithy rubbed his hands together. “Not only do I have one, I have two. Would you like to see them both and pick?”
“Yes!” Alexander said as he stood on tip-toe to glimpse the proprietor as he reached for items on crowded shelves.
Two wooden trains were placed on the counter. Alexander ran each one back and forth across the counter.
“Which one do you like, son?” Mr. Smithy asked.
“I can’t decide,” Alexander said, never taking his eyes off the trains.
“We’ll take both,” Tristan said.
“Both?” Alexander whirled to Tristan.
“You needn’t do that,” Olivia said.
“I know I needn’t. I want to.” Tristan turned to the proprietor. “One more item. A doll.”
Mr. Smithy nodded and turned back to the shelves. Catherine was quick to catch on and stepped up to the counter. When the man handed her a wooden doll with a painted face and wearing a muslin dress, she was ecstatic. “Thank you!”
Tristan paid for both trains and the doll. “What good is the dukedom’s wealth if I cannot give small gifts to make those I care for happy?”
Olivia’s heart pounded in her chest. Her feelings for him were intensifying, along with a frightening need that filled the empty chambers of her heart. She felt lost, like a sailor at sea. For a woman who’d been determined to protect herself from heartache, it was a most terrifying feeling.
Chapter Nineteen
They stopped at Hyde Park on the way home, and the children ran off to play. Tristan led Olivia to a wooden bench beneath a shady oak. It was still early afternoon, and sunlight shone through the leaves and the chirping of birds filled the air. The promenade hour wouldn’t start until five o’clock, and it was lovely and calm. Hours later, ladies wearing new hats or bonnets and gentlemen and dandies in the latest fashionable attire would drive their phaetons and carriages around the track in order to be seen more than to enjoy the park.
“I know what you did for me,” Tristan said, breaking the silence.
“Pardon?”
“You befriended Lady Ware and helped influence her husband’s opinion for a bill in the House of Lords.”
So her machinations had worked and more swiftly than she’d thought. She could only guess at Lady Ware’s techniques to influence her husband. Resourceful lady.
Olivia watched him beneath lowered lashes. “Are you upset?”
He shook his head. “I’m grateful.”
He was looking at her differently, more curiously, as if he was seeing her for the first time. Even more disturbing, he was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.
Her fingers twisted in her lap. “It was nothing.”
“I disagree. It was splendid.”
His gaze traveled over her face and searched her eyes, and her heart turned over in response.
“What did you do?” he asked.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Lady Ware is the daughter of a merchant. She never received a voucher by the patronesses of Almack’s, never had an official coming out, and she desires, more than anything, to be accepted by the beau monde.”
“Ah. A friendship with the Duchess of Keswick will aid her cause,” he said. “I’m still surprised that would change her husband’s vote. His was staunchly opposed to the bill.”
Olivia bit her lower lip. “There is one more thing.”
One dark eyebrow shot upward. “I suspected as much.”
“Lady Ware has a gambling habit. A bad one. Whist and roulette are her weaknesses. Unbeknownst to her husband, she has acquired a significant amount of debt to the Raven Club. My sister has agreed to forgive the debt in exchange for the lady’s persuasive efforts over her husband.”
Tristan gaped at her then threw back his head and laughed. The sound was so startling she stared. Had she ever heard him laugh like that?
“That’s rich! I owe your sister.”
“Are you certain you are not mad at my meddling?” she asked.
“Mad? I’m amazed. I had no idea I married a woman of such great resourcefulness. It would be my honor to take you to the theater.”
She blinked. “Truly?”
“You did me a great service. I would be amiss not to return the favor.”
Something shifted between them. Something tangible. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes stoked the growing fire between them.
“Auntie Olivia!”
They pulled back as Catherine and Alexander bounded toward them. “Can you hold my doll?” Olivia asked.
“And my trains?” Alexander said.
The toys were on Olivia’s lap as the children bounded off again. An awkwardness settled between them as she struggled how best to bring up what she was thinking, had been thinking since he’d walked through his garden gate to challenge them to a game of hoops.
“I know what you are thinking,” Tristan said. “Just because I like children does not mean I will change my mind.”
She met his burning gaze. “Forever is a long time. Can your position be swayed?”
His jaw tightened in an all-too-familiar way. “No. I could not protect them forever.”
She knew he was talking of his stutter. “Of course not. No parent can shield their offspring from everything.”
“I would not abandon my child, either,” he said.
She looked at him in surprise. “Do you believe I would?”
“You say that now, but what if they stammered? Even more than I do? Much more.”
She raised her chin a notch. “I would love them still. Your mother should have understood.”
A muscle began to flick by his eye. “The duchess was a cold-hearted woman.”
“She didn’t love you?”
“My mother expressed disapproval more than affection. She hired tutors to cure my affliction, and I can explicitly recall the faces and mannerisms of each and every one of them. Some enjoyed yelling; others were soft-spoken. The quieter ones were the m…m-eanest. They received great satisfaction in extracting physical p…p-ain when their standards were not met.”
She stifled her gasp. “Was your mother aware?”
“Of course. She wanted a perfect son, an heir to the dukedom. After years of failure, she’d assumed I was unintelligent and an embarrassment to the family and the dukedom.”
She stiffened in horror. “I’m sorry for your suffering.”
His jaw set in a grim line. “Don’t be. It made me the man I am.”
No, it had made him alone. Isolated. In pain. In her opinion, it probably exacerbated his difficulty in communicating. She began to reach out to touch him then stopped herself. She sensed he didn’t want pity, that pity would make it worse. Instead, she let her anger surface. “She was wrong. Terribly wrong. If
she were alive, I’d tell her so.”
“My childhood wasn’t unbearable. I had my father’s mother. Antonia and my mother never agreed and often argued.”
She’d have to thank the dowager. Olivia knew, without a doubt, that the Duke of Keswick would be even more withdrawn if not for his grandmother’s love. She had a better understanding of his past, but why did he feel so strongly that it would affect his future?
“What makes you believe your child will have the same condition?” she asked.
“What makes me believe he or she won’t?”
It was an impossible argument. “You must know I would never abandon our child or treat them like your mother treated you.” She held her breath. Did he think, truly believe, that she was like his mother?
“It does not matter. I have an heir.”
Lord Jeffries.
Somehow, it seemed wrong. Not because Lord Jeffries would not make a proper duke, but because Tristan would make a wonderful father. He may have given up hope, but now that she knew about his past, she had not.
…
“I understand my grandson is taking you to the theater this evening,” Antonia said.
Olivia was pleasantly surprised when the dowager walked into the breakfast room. Olivia had been enjoying a plate of eggs and bacon—alone. For a brief moment as she’d approached the dining room doors, she’d thought…hoped…Tristan would be seated at the table.
“Please join me and I will tell you about our evening plans,” Olivia said.
Antonia settled in a chair across from Olivia, and a footman came forward to serve tea.
Olivia picked up her teacup and let the warmth seep into her hands. “We are to attend the Covent Garden Theatre tonight. Julius Caesar is playing.”
Antonia added two lumps of sugar to her tea. “I’m pleasantly surprised. He rarely attends social functions.”
“That’s why I chose the play. He does not have to speak much with others like at a ball.”
Antonia’s eyes sparkled. “I knew you were right for him.”
Olivia’s conversation with Tristan had been enlightening, but she wanted to know more. She set down her teacup. “I must ask you about his mother, the duchess.”
Antonia grimaced. “Our relationship was not amicable.”
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