Liberty did as she was bid.
‘I’m sorry to receive you in here,’ Olivia went on, ‘but the servants are working so hard to prepare the house for Papa’s arrival that I could not in all conscience receive you in the salon, not when the twins will be joining us.’ She grinned. ‘They have the ability to reduce any room to utter chaos without even trying. Grantham was mortified when he discovered I intended to receive a guest in the family parlour, but I made sure you would not object.’
‘Of course I don’t object. Is Grantham your father’s butler?’
‘He is. He arrived in London yesterday.’
‘I am rather pleased he was not here when I called—’ Liberty snapped her mouth shut as her cheeks burned.
Olivia tilted her head. ‘When you called...? You have been here before?’
‘No. Yes. Oh, heavens...my wretched tongue! I...’
But hadn’t Dominic told her Olivia had always been protective of Alex? Surely she would understand? She told Olivia of the reason for her visit to Beauchamp House and how she had mistaken Dominic for Alex. Olivia’s eyes danced with merriment.
‘What fun! That takes me back to my debut year—I tied myself in tangles trying to protect Alex from the consequences of his actions...but we both survived and I met my beloved Hugo, and all turned out for the best. In the end. But...forgive me, but Wendover does not seem near as wild or as...self-destructive...as Alex used to be. I noticed nothing out of the way in his behaviour last night. Indeed, he appeared the perfect gentleman.’
‘I believe...I hope...that may be because he has developed a tendre for a certain young lady. It appears there is nothing as likely to persuade a man to behave himself as the presence of watchful parents.’
Olivia sighed. ‘Oh, how I wish Alex would develop a fancy for a nice girl. I fear he will never wed—his temperament is too unpredictable.’ She caught Liberty’s eye and smiled ruefully. ‘You and I seem very alike. As do our families. Ought I to apologise for our family squabbling last night? It’s odd. Here I am, married for four years and the mother of twins, yet as soon as I am with Dominic and Alex the years seem to drop away and we slip back into the same old relationship. With me as their little sister,’ she added in a disgusted tone. ‘I keep meaning to resist, but it seems impossible—that role is so natural to me, it happens quite without any intent on my part.’ Olivia sent Liberty a rueful smile. ‘I don’t know! Brothers! They spend half their life tormenting and teasing you—pretending they are so very superior simply because they are male—and the rest of the time they appear hell-bent on ruining their lives. You cannot help but try to protect them from their own folly.’
Liberty frowned. ‘But...surely... Lord Avon...he, at least, is all that is proper and gentlemanly. He cannot give you cause for concern.’
A maid came in at that moment, with a tea tray and cakes. The butler had opened the door for her and he lingered, waiting until the maid had poured the tea and handed Olivia and Liberty their cups.
‘Thank you, Betty,’ said Olivia. The maid flashed a smile, then hurried towards the waiting butler and the still-open door.
‘The poor things don’t know what’s hit them since Grantham arrived—heaven forfend Papa should find a speck of dust or a picture unaligned when he arrives.’ Olivia gurgled a laugh.
‘H-he sounds quite intimidating,’ said Liberty.
‘Oh, pooh. He gives himself airs and graces, but underneath it all he’s an old softy.’
Liberty stared at Olivia, open-mouthed. Olivia returned her quizzical look, then burst out laughing. ‘I meant Grantham, silly! Not Papa! Not that he’s intimidating either...well, he might appear so at times, but he is not. Not really. Grantham could give any duke lessons on how to be pompous and unbending.’
Silence reigned as they sipped their tea and nibbled at slices of moist fruit cake.
‘Speaking of Lord Avon—’ Liberty could contain her curiosity no longer ‘—I was intrigued by your conversation about Westfield last night. For a bachelor, your brother appears strangely knowledgeable about twins and children in general, but when I asked him about it, he seemed to...well, to withdraw somehow.’
‘Oh, Dom is never one to puff off his good deeds. Or anything about his life, in actual fact. He is quite private. But Westfield—he’s been a patron for...ooh, seven years now—since he was nineteen. It is a school and orphan asylum in Islington.’
‘That seems a strange thing for such a young man to get involved with.’
‘Maybe to outsiders,’ said Olivia, ‘but not when you know Dominic. Lady Stanton, who is one of our cousins—second or third, or some such—was already a patron, even before she married, and when she told Dominic about it he decided to help. He knows how hard it was to lose Mother and we still had Papa. He said at the time he could not bear to imagine how much worse it would be if your family was poor and you lost both parents. He wanted to help give those children a future other than crime and begging.’
‘I remember how hard it was to lose both our parents and I was nineteen.’
Liberty tried, and failed, to imagine how dreadful it must be for a very young child to suddenly find itself all alone in the world. Her respect for Dominic increased—he did not have to help those children, but he chose to.
‘Westfield is not just for orphans, but for abandoned children, too. There are more of those than you would care to know about. Why, just a few days ago he recognised a beggar woman on the street with a child that wasn’t hers and rescued it. My Hugo was with him, or I’d never have known about it, of course. Hugo is taking me to visit Westfield soon—he went there with Dominic and he told me it is hopelessly overcrowded. He thought we might set up an establishment in Sussex, near to where we live, to take some of the children.’
‘That is a kind thought.’
‘I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never been there before,’ Olivia said. ‘That makes me rather thoughtless, doesn’t it?’ She chewed at her lip, staring down at her hands in her lap. ‘I’ve never considered getting involved myself, even though I know how hard it is to lose a parent. And I had every advantage in life, because of who Papa is, and we had my aunt and my uncle, too.’
‘What was your mother like?’
‘I don’t remember her very well. All I remember is rejection and impatience. I was only five, of course, when she died—I’ve no doubt I was a constant nuisance—but try as I might I can never remember approval or affection. I will never know if that would have changed as I grew up...never know if she would finally approve of me and be proud of me.’ She raised her eyes and Liberty was concerned to see tears sheening them. On impulse, she took Olivia’s hand and squeezed. Olivia emitted a sound, half-laugh, half-sniff. ‘Hark at me, getting all maudlin. But at least now you understand why I am so determined to be a good mother to my twins.’
‘I am sure you could never be a bad mother, Olivia. You have proved how much you care and all children need is to know they are loved.’
‘They know how much their papa and I dote on them, but I am still curious about them being twins and interested in how, if at all, it might make them different from other children. Will you tell me about your childhood? Were you and your brother always close? Was your relationship with him different to your relationship with your sisters?’
They chatted for several minutes about twins in particular and brothers and sisters in general—although Liberty didn’t feel she offered Olivia any special insight into being a twin. She and Gideon had naturally bonded more as children, but she believed that was due more to the age difference between them and their younger sisters than simply because they happened to be born at the same time. It was hard to accept the bond she had believed unbreakable had frayed so badly, although there was more hope in her heart after their talk on the way to Beauchamp House. The time flew by, until the door opened and a nursemaid entered, ushering two infants into the room.
They were followed by a footman carrying a large wooden ship which he set down on the rug in front of the fireplace. The children stood stock still upon spying Liberty, their eyes huge, thumbs jammed into their mouths.
‘Ruth,’ said Olivia to the nursemaid, her silver eyes brimming with laughter, ‘this pair can’t possibly be Julius and Daisy—I do believe you have switched them for imposters. They are never this quiet.’ She held out her arms then. ‘Come to Mama, sweeties, and meet Mama’s friend.’
Before too long, Julius, still somewhat shy, was perched comfortably on Liberty’s knee, patting and stroking her hair and face, while Olivia had joined her daughter on the floor to play with a splendid ark and a collection of carved wooden animals.
Julius was so soft and huggable. Liberty’s arms closed around the little boy and that familiar hollow ached in her chest. She no longer doubted that she was ready to find love again, but the only man she had ever come close to having feelings for was Dominic. And he was so far out of her reach it was futile to even daydream about it.
‘Liberty? Liberty!’
She was jerked out of her thoughts by Olivia’s persistent calling of her name. Then Julius stiffened in her lap before wriggling free of her arms and sliding down to the floor.
‘Well, young Julius,’ drawled a deep, familiar voice, ‘I see you have started young with the ladies.’
Heat scorched Liberty’s cheeks as she realised Dominic must have been watching them for some minutes before being noticed. She quickly tidied her hair. Her heart, from being an aching void, bloomed with joy as his mouth curved in an irresistible smile and mischief twinkled in his eyes and she struggled to keep her feelings hidden—she could not bear it if he realised how she was beginning to care for him. How utterly mortifying that would be. She smiled a cool greeting as the twins rushed to him and he gathered them both up and kissed their cheeks soundly, blowing air against their skin to make loud noises and sending them into fits of giggles.
With blinding clarity she saw he was two different men. There was the public Lord Avon, with his proper behaviour and his correct manners—the Lord Avon who was familiar to the haut ton and who had attended to Lady Caroline at supper last night—and then there was the Dominic who emerged when his family were around him. His family...and her. Liberty Lovejoy. Because somehow, without even trying, Liberty had been admitted into the inner circle of people with whom Dominic felt able to relax and to reveal more of the real man inside.
But did that simply mean her opinion was unimportant to him?
A lump swelled in her throat as she watched him with Olivia’s children. He would make a wonderful father...and he was a man who cared. How many nineteen-year-old wealthy and privileged young men would bother themselves with the plight of orphans? Not Gideon, even now he was almost five-and-twenty. Dominic was clearly a man who trod his own path, regardless of what his peers expected of a man in his position.
He was so much more than she had first believed, when all she had seen was a wealthy but shallow aristocrat who knew and cared nothing for the plight of others. Not only did he take practical steps to help those less fortunate, but his selflessness was not in order to enhance his own reputation. He was well-known in society, and often talked about, but Liberty had not heard the slightest hint of his charity work.
Her thoughts whirled with what she had learned...was learning...about him. Olivia’s revelations about her childhood and the mother who had never given her the unconditional love she craved prompted Liberty to wonder about Dominic and his relationship with that same mother.
‘Dominic!’ Olivia regained her feet and shook out her skirts. ‘You are early! We agreed four o’clock, did we not, and it is only just gone three.’
‘I wanted to spend a little uninterrupted time with my niece and nephew while I have the chance.’
He hugged them both into his chest again before setting them down on the floor and strolling further into the room.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Lovejoy.’ He bowed. ‘I do hope you will not object to my disturbing your time with Livvy? I can always go up to the nursery with the twins if I am de trop and you wish to gossip unhindered.’
‘Now, Dom, you know very well we would not gossip in front of the children...not that we do gossip, of course,’ Olivia added hastily.
‘Of course,’ Dominic agreed smoothly as the twins tugged at him to play with their toys. He sighed. ‘Very well, scamps, but allow me to remove my coat first—Brailsford will never forgive me if I soil my coat before I display my elegance in the Park.’
‘Dominic! Miss Lovejoy is my guest. You cannot cavort before her in shirt sleeves!’
Liberty found herself the object of a penetrating look from Dominic. A look that set off a delicious fluttering deep in her abdomen.
‘Will I offend your sensibilities, Miss Lovejoy?’ He arched one brow. ‘I know it is not quite the done thing, but surely we may relax a few of the conventions after our recent...er...slightly unconventional encounters?’
‘You need not be coy, Dominic—Liberty has told me how she called here to beard Papa in his den and mistook you for Alex.’ Olivia giggled as she sat next to Liberty on the sofa and nudged her. ‘You should be honoured—he only ever teases people he likes and they’re mostly family. Oh! I know! You can be our honorary sister. I always wanted a sister!’
Chapter Twelve
Dominic tried to ignore the tension swirling in his gut. This had seemed a good idea at the time—an opportunity to spend a little time with Julius and Daisy before Father and Stepmother arrived, when his half-sister and half-brother, Christabel and Sebastian, would also demand his attention. Besides, he adored spending time with the little monkeys.
That Liberty Lovejoy would be here was entirely incidental. Wasn’t it? She tempted him like no other woman of his acquaintance and—if he was wise, which he clearly wasn’t—he should do all he could to avoid her. Yet here he was, concentrating on steadying his breathing as the subtle note of her perfume weaved through his senses. That picture of her with young Julius on her lap—her pensive, wistful expression—was now seared into his brain. His heart had twitched with longing as he took in the sight and, try as he might to replace her image with any of the ladies on that original shortlist, he simply could not imagine any of them dandling a child on their knee and allowing it to fiddle with their hair.
Mother, certainly, would never have tolerated such behaviour. She had been goddess-like to her three children—a goddess they had all worshipped and done their utmost to please, forever seeking her praise. He thrust down those memories and the weight of duty, responsibility and expectation they evoked.
‘Olivia.’
‘Dominic?’
‘By my calculations I have now spoken to Miss Lovejoy twice since entering this room, including asking her a number of direct questions, and she has yet to reply to any of them because you have rushed in to speak for her.’
He welcomed the familiar spark in his sister’s eyes. ‘Well, that is entirely your fault, Brother dear, for asking her such awkward questions in the first place! I am Liberty’s hostess and it is my duty to protect her from feeling uncomfortable. You forget, she is not used to your teasing ways, Dom.’
‘Good Lord, you haven’t changed, Livvy! Four years wed and you are still the fiery brat you always were.’
Olivia’s cheekbones sported two bright flags of colour and he regretted the words as soon as they were spoken. What was he? Sixteen years old again? Of course Olivia was still the same spirited girl and he prayed she always would be—she would not be the little sister he loved and cherished if marriage and motherhood changed her too much.
‘Liv... I’m sorry! We do seem to slip back into that same old relationship when we get together, don’t we?’
The colour in her cheeks faded and she grinned. ‘I was saying much the same thing before the twins came down, wasn’t I, Liberty?
’
‘You were indeed, Olivia.’ Liberty’s response was calm, with just the right touch of light amusement. ‘And in answer to your query about your jacket, sir, please do so. I pledge myself to remain utterly unoffended by such an action.’
Dominic saw that their little spat had given Liberty a chance to collect herself. When she first became aware of him, a soft pink blush had washed across her skin and her velvety-blue eyes had widened and darkened as her lush lips parted. Her unguarded reaction had lasted a bare second, but her joyful expression had drawn a similar happy response from him. Then her expression had shuttered and it was apparent that the woman he had first met, whose feelings shone in her expressions, had changed in the time he had known her. Her features were no longer a window into her soul. He could not blame her—society and the ton were enough to make even the toughest-skinned person wary—but, damn it, he hated that he could no longer read her every thought.
Olivia’s words resounded through his head. An honorary sister, indeed. Nothing could be further from the way he felt about Liberty Lovejoy. But he could, and must, view her as a family friend, such as Jane Colebrooke was—although he had never lusted after Jane in his entire life. He could cope with thinking of Liberty as a friend...just. But in no way could he view her as his sister.
He shrugged out of his jacket and joined the twins on the rug. He was soon lost in their game, pairing up the animals and marching them up the ramp into the ark, the faint murmur of conversation fading into the background, until he realised Liberty was standing up, clearly preparing to take her leave. He jumped to his feet and collected his jacket from the chair where he had laid it.
‘Did a maid accompany you, Miss Lovejoy?’
Daring to Love the Duke's Heir Page 13