Duke of Scandal

by Adele Ashworth

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she took a step into the room.

  “Set another place for dinner, Harold,” someone said.

  “Right away, your grace,” the butler behind her replied before closing the door and leaving her alone with him.

  Only they weren’t alone, she realized as if living in a dream, moving her gaze at last to note the man she remembered as Sam’s friend Colin, who’d just spoken to the butler, standing near the fireplace, and two others she didn’t know near the window on her right.

  “I—I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” she managed to say.

  “Not at all,” Colin returned with a wry smile. “We adore surprises. Don’t we, Sam?”

  She shifted her gaze back to the man of her desire, lingering on his handsome features, remembering the way he teased her, the way he laughed with her. The night he told her he loved her.

  “Are you going to introduce us, or shall I?” the woman in the chair said rather sharply, her brows lifted in question.

  Sam seemed to suddenly collect himself, the shock of seeing her standing before him vanishing as an aloof formality quickly returned. He stood upright, arms to his side, then gestured with a lift of his hand.

  “Lady Olivia Shea, formerly of Elmsboro,” he said in a cool, deep voice, “I’d like to introduce you to William Raleigh, Duke of Trent, and his wife Vivian.”

  Olivia curtsied. “Your grace. Ma’am.”

  The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched up. “And of course you’ve met Colin Ramsey, Duke of Newark.”

  “Your grace,” she replied with another curtsy. The three of them remained silent for a few seconds after that, and so she smiled broadly and added, “My goodness, so many high-ranking noblemen in one room. And all so handsome, too, which I find quite unusual—”

  “Why are you here, Olivia?” Sam cut in, his tone thick and low as he eyed her intently.

  She inhaled deeply for strength. He was obviously going to make this difficult for her.

  “Perhaps we should leave the two of you alone,” Vivian interjected, looking at Sam.

  “No, please—” She twisted her fan in front of her. “I’ll just be a moment. I—I wanted to tell Sam that the… um… political climate has changed in France.”

  “Actually, we were just having an in-depth discussion about it,” Sam maintained, finally moving as he walked out from behind the desk.

  Olivia noticed at once that everyone was staring at him with furrowed brows.

  Sam cleared his throat and leaned his hip on the dark wooden edge, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for her to say something more, she supposed.

  “I see,” she remarked as casually as she could. “Well, then, you must be aware that the Empress Eugenie has been banished from the country and the British government has been kind enough to allow her to take up residence here.”

  “Yes, we’d heard,” Sam said coolly, his expression guarded.

  “Oh, the antics of the French,” Colin declared as he took a sip of the drink in his hand. “Always giving the English something to discuss at parties.”

  Olivia decided at that moment that she really, really liked Colin.

  “Where have you been?” Sam asked quietly, his gaze never straying from hers.

  The question gave her pause, and she shifted from one foot to the other. “Did you look for me?” she asked in return, her voice sounding timid to her ears.

  He didn’t respond for a moment, then whispered, “Yes.”

  She grinned broadly. She couldn’t help herself. “I’ve been staying with Lady Abethnot for the last three days, but before that I was in Cornwall.”

  “Cornwall?” the three of them repeated in unison.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Yes, well, I have family there, cousins on my father’s side, and since Eugenie won’t be a patron in Paris any longer, I came here to… consider my options.”

  “Consider your options,” Sam repeated.

  She sighed. “I suppose the boutique in France will carry on without me, but I thought I’d consider opening a new Nivan branch here.” She shrugged. “For the Empress Eugenie, of course.”

  “Of course,” Sam agreed, his expression lighting a little with a shade of amusement.

  That gave her confidence. “Naturally, I don’t want to lose her patronage. She simply adores what I create for her and I’ve just recently blended a new eau de cologne for her, in spice, actually.”

  Olivia noticed how, aside from Sam, the others in the room looked confused.

  “I’m sorry, Nivan? Spice?” Vivian asked from her chair.

  Olivia looked at her closely for the first time. A beautiful woman, older than she, with dark hair and striking eyes. And quite obviously pregnant.

  She offered her a smile. “Nivan is a house of perfume that I manage—or did manage—in Paris. And spice is the scent of the Season. It’s my favorite as well.”

  Vivian’s husband actually chuckled as the other two looked at Sam. He, in turn, seemed to flush, flooding her with the memory of how he looked when he made love to her—flushed and vibrant and intense in his pursuit to satisfy her. The thought made her suddenly hot all over and she squirmed in her shoes.

  “Would you like to sit, Lady Olivia?” the Duke of Trent asked her kindly.

  She shook her head. “Thank you, no. I’m not here to—”

  “Why are you here?” Sam asked, his cool demeanor returning.

  He still hadn’t moved away from the side of the desk, leaning against it with his arms over his chest. He was making her nervous, and a little annoyed that he kept asking as if he wanted her to confess everything before he even said he’d missed her.

  She straightened and opened her fan, swishing it slowly in front of her. “I see you’re expecting?” she said brightly to Vivian.

  The woman grinned beautifully. “In four months.”

  Olivia gaped at her. “Four months?” she repeated.

  Vivian placed a palm on her overlarge belly. “I’m huge, I know.”

  Olivia frowned and began to walk toward her. “Are you experiencing any swelling? I know that can be a problem when it’s so hot as it’s been lately—”

  “Olivia, stop rambling,” Sam ordered, stopping her in her tracks.

  She fairly glared at him.

  At that moment the butler rapped on the door again, then opened it. “Your grace, dinner is served.”

  “In a minute, Harold,” Colin acknowledged as he looked at her. “This is fascinating.”

  “As you wish, sir,” the man behind her said before taking his leave once more.

  “Are you going to get to the point?” Sam asked her, his voice cool again.

  She pushed her shoulders back and cocked her head to the side. “Why do you think I’m here, Sam?”

  He shrugged negligibly. “I’ve no idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms over her breasts. “You can be such a cad.”

  “Him?” Colin said, placing his glass on the mantelpiece. “My lady, do you have any idea how long it takes this man to find the nerve to just talk to a—”

  “Enough, Colin,” Will admonished him.

  Olivia glanced back to Sam, who now peered into her eyes intently, watching her for reaction, waiting.

  Swallowing her pride, she closed her fan again and said, “Then I can assume you’ve not been courting someone else in my absence.”

  Sam’s forehead creased as he looked her up and down. “In eight weeks?”

  “Ah, l’amour,” Colin said lightly, running his fingers through his hair.

  She blushed. “Are you married, sir?”

  He gave her a sly smile. “No, but I’d suddenly like to be. Are you looking for a husband?”

  She stared at Sam. “Yes, I am.”

  Sam only raised his brows, and it infuriated her almost as much as it begged her to rush to his arms and kiss his face.

  Curtly, she said, “Actually, I had one once, but he turned o
ut to be a scheming liar.” Nobody said anything, so she added, “And then I learned I wasn’t actually married to him at all.”

  Her voice had grown serious as the mood in the room changed.

  She inhaled deeply, lifting her chin a little, the emotion of the moment instantly striking her full force. “Then I chanced upon another man, a better man, so completely different from the first.” Her voice shook a little as she continued. “He was wonderful to me, so smart and handsome. He cared about my feelings, my work, my life.”

  Sam’s features had softened considerably as he watched her, his gaze melting hers, and she swallowed hard to hold back tears.

  Slowly she began to walk toward him. “He changed my world,” she said in a husky whisper. “He actually loved me, needed me, but I—I said some horrible things to him that I’d give my life to take back.”

  Deadly silence pervaded the room as she now stood only a foot away from him, gazing into his eyes with all the love and longing she felt inside, hoping with every breath that he’d witness it for himself.

  “I want to marry him so much,” she breathed, the intensity she felt overflowing from her words, her body trembling, her eyes filling with tears of their own accord.

  She fisted her hands at her sides, gritting her teeth. “I love him so much. I love him so much more than I could ever say to him because I left him. I want him back, loving me like he said he did, forgiving me for being so naive and stupid.” She sniffed, then whispered, “I love him with everything inside of me, but I’m so scared he doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore.”

  Olivia could actually see the pain and rush of feeling that rippled through him from her disclosure. His jaw tightened as he inhaled a shaky breath, squeezing his arms with his hands to keep from reaching out to her until she’d finished.

  That’s when she knew, with a profound relief, a profound joy, that she had never lost him.

  A slow smile of a radiance she couldn’t possibly conceal spread across her face. And then she took a step away from him and looked at Colin, who remained standing by the fireplace, amused.

  “But if he doesn’t want me, sir,” she admitted lightly, “I suppose you’ll do.”

  Sam was on her in a second, grabbing her by the shoulders and yanking her against him so hard it fairly knocked the breath from her.

  Gazing at her, a crooked grin upon his mouth, he whispered huskily, “He doesn’t care for ladies with blue eyes.”

  She heard the faintest laughter around her, and then he kissed her deeply, drowning out all sound, returning every feeling she had for him, saying everything he wanted to say in that one gesture of stark meaning, of love. She dropped her fan to the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly, afraid to let him go.

  When at last he pulled away, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead, her lashes and chin, the tip of her nose.

  “You scared the hell out of me, Livi,” he whispered forcefully, his lips to her skin. “Don’t ever leave me again…”

  She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes as he looked down at her, his eyes glazed with love and desire. With relief.

  “I missed you so much,” she breathed.

  He swallowed. “God in heaven, Olivia—” His voice cracked with emotion, and with that he pulled her head into his chest, cradling her with his palm to her cheek.

  She closed her eyes briefly, relishing in the solid sound of his heartbeat, in the feel of his tall, strong body holding her close.

  “Everybody’s gone,” she murmured softly.

  He chuckled. “They’re smart people, and right now they’re in the dining room eating all the food.”

  She giggled against him. “I’m only hungry for you anyway.”

  He drew in a long, slow breath, then tipped her face up to meet his, his expression turned grave.

  “Are you carrying my child?”

  She felt like crying all over again. “No,” she whispered.

  He grinned. “Good. Then we can have a proper wedding.”

  She beamed, leaning back a little. “A real, legal wedding.”

  “A real, legal, lavish wedding that will cost me a fortune in ball gowns.”

  She laughed again. “And perfume.”

  He smirked. “Naturally.”

  After gazing into her eyes for a moment or two, he dropped his forehead to hers just as he had the night so long ago when they’d danced as if there were no one else on earth.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Livi…” he breathed. “I love you, too.”