He's a Duke, But I Love Him: A Historical Regency Romance (Happily Ever After Book 4)

by Ellie St. Clair

  “Another moment, Molly!” Olivia called, as Alastair slid her back towards him so that she was completely tucked into him, his body curled around hers.

  “Only a moment?” he asked as his fingers burned a trail up her stomach and side to cup her breast.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation, but recalled his mother and sister awaiting them downstairs and sighed. As much as she would have reveled in repeating their encounter, she grasped his fingers in hers and turned to face him.

  “For now,” she said with a smile. “What do you say we go out tonight? To reminisce on our first days together?”

  “That sounds splendid,” he replied, winking at her as he asked, “Lady Atwood’s?”

  “I think that would be appropriate,” she said. “This time, however, I believe I am content to go as Olivia Finchley, Duchess of Breckenridge. I am a married woman now, accompanied by my husband. It may cause a stir, but I do not believe it shall be overly scandalous.”

  He nodded but added, “Of course you know how much I enjoy Olivia Finchley. Although Mrs. Harris is rather delightful, and she is an excellent whist player, I must have you know. I believe I somewhat miss her.”

  “Perhaps she will make an appearance in your bedroom tonight,” Olivia said, looking up at him coyly.

  “She can appear all she likes,” he replied. “I shall only have one woman in my bed however, and that woman is my wife.”

  “Oh?” she looked up at him with a pout on her lips. “And what is so special about her?”

  “A man cannot look at any other woman when he has found his true love,” Alastair responded, his eyes boring into hers in a way that made her heart beat furiously. “A woman who not only puts his interests before hers, but who makes his life more interesting than he ever thought possible.”

  She smiled. “Would that be a compliment, husband? In my experience, many men do not enjoy ‘interesting’ women.”

  “Well, then, it is fortunate you found a man that not only enjoys the interesting, but rejoices in it,” he said. “One thing is for certain. Life with you will never be dull, which was what I always feared of marriage. What I have come to learn, however, is that it is not marriage itself that becomes a bore, but rather how incredibly important it is to make the correct choice of the woman you shall spend the rest of your days with. Perhaps you were not my choice at first, my darling wife, but I choose you now, and will forever more.”

  She smiled at him. “I suppose we unconsciously chose one another the moment we entered that theatre box together,” she said.

  “That we did,” he said with a nod. “I fear this means I must also be grateful to your mother and that hideous woman, Lady Montgomery.”

  “Ah yes, Hester,” Olivia said with a sigh. “One can only hope that one day she shall understand how her actions hurt the lives of others.”

  She began rising from the bed when he tugged at her fingers.

  “There is one other thing of import I wanted to discuss with you. I do hope, now that you are home, you will not discontinue your column for The Financial Register.”

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “I honestly had not given it much thought since I made my decision. I’m not sure, Alastair. A duchess, as a columnist of a financial journal? It hardly seems proper.”

  “When has proprietary ever concerned you?” he asked with raised eyebrows and a hint of laughter at the corner of his lips.

  She swatted him. “Since I became a duchess! Well, perhaps since I have had time to reflect on the consequences of my impulsive ways. My actions reflect on you, and Anne, and your mother, and —”

  He silenced her with a quick kiss.

  “It would be much more shameful for you not to share yourself with the world. Your wit, your intelligence, your skill at seeing beyond what most men see and explaining the larger issues,” he said. “In fact, why do you not publish under your own name? I would be proud for everyone to know of what my wife is capable.”

  She shook her head. “I appreciate your pride in my work, Alastair, truly I do; however my identity would destroy all that I have built up. Men will not listen to women about financial issues. You did not for a great deal of time —”

  “I apologize for that.”

  “I understand that, but that does not change the fact that men will not accept my advice as anything worth listening to, and that is if the journal would even continue to publish my work. No, I will have to remain P.J. Scott. However, I do enjoy the writing and so will continue to do so, with your support.”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  “And Alastair, there is one other thing,” she said quietly, and he looked at her expectantly. “You must use my dowry to pay the sum you owe by the end of the morrow.”

  Molly had heard of the creditors’ visit from another servant and had told her, but Olivia did not want any of them to be chastised.

  “How did you —”

  “It matters not how I know, but that I do, and Alastair, you simply must put aside your stubbornness and your pride! If the money were in my name, I would pay it for you. Would you not do the same for me?”

  “Yes,” he said begrudgingly.

  “Very well, then you must do it for yourself. First thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But I shall put every penny back in the fund. Our children can have it.”

  “Very well,” she said with the smile he came to know as the one showing her triumphant pleasure. “I know with your current investments you should not have any issues.”

  “Not if I listen to my very knowledgeable advisor,” he grinned. “Now, shall we allow poor Molly to come in and prepare you for dinner?”

  Olivia nodded, watching Alastair as he dressed with warmth in her heart. He nodded to her, a grin on his lips as he stepped through the adjoining door to his own chambers while Olivia donned her chemise and bid Molly to enter.

  Olivia sighed in contentment. She had never imagined such a day would come, that she would find a man who desired her for more than her face or her body, but who would know of her longing for more than what the world expected of her and not only keep from judging her, but encourage her to continue her quest to share her knowledge with the world.

  And share she would. She knew most women would be more than content in the role of a duchess, but she had always known that would never suit her. To have achieved her own dreams as well as her mother’s was something she had never thought possible, and now she was more grateful than she could have ever known.

  27

  Olivia had seen Anne excited on many occasions, but never more so than the evening of her return to London’s social scene following the death of her father.

  It had been a week since Olivia had returned home, and her contentment was now fully realized. She was fortunate to have found a man who craved social events as much as she, and together they found enjoyment in a wide variety of pursuits, from the whist table to the theatre to the balls, to nights alone at home which had become equally as enjoyable. She had been happy before, but now her heart was full with the knowledge of the love she shared with her husband.

  She knocked on the door of Anne’s room and entered at her call. The girl stood in front of the ornate oval mirror inlaid in gold, staring at herself in the long white silk gown, embroidery climbing up the front to the high waistline and gathered bodice. Olivia approached her from behind, dressed in a lavender gown, the bodice and sleeves decorated with a simple ornamentation, highlighted by a beautiful simple cross of gemstones round her neck from Alastair.

  “Anne, you look absolutely beautiful,” she said, as she placed her hands on the shoulders of her sister-in-law, who was only slightly shorter than she was.

  “As do you,” said Anne, turning to Olivia. “What a beautiful color.”

  “Yes, though not the pristine white of innocence,” she replied with a smile. “Now, come, I have something for you.”

  She passed her a small package, wrapped in white ribbo
n. Anne looked up at her with a slight smile before her long fingers pried open the package, revealing a diamond comb for her hair. She gasped as she picked it up and held it to the side of her head.

  “Oh, Olivia, why it is simply beautiful!” she exclaimed, as Olivia took it from her and placed it into the sandy tresses of her hair, next to the elegant arrangement her maid had finally completed but moments before. “But why … why for me and not yourself?”

  “Because it’s a gift, silly,” she said with a laugh. “This day is for you, and the diamond reminded me of you — a girl with spirit that shines brighter than any other in the room.”

  “What of your own sister?”

  “I have sent a gift for her as well, a broach of aquamarine jewels that was perfect for her, as this is for you.”

  “What were your first balls like?

  Olivia gave a little laugh. “They were some time ago, to be sure. I said all the wrong things and practically tripped over my own feet, as I have always done. You, on the other hand, have always known how to charm all you meet, just like your brother. Simply be yourself, and all will be quite overcome by you.”

  Anne beamed at her. “I will do so,” she said. “I am happy to have you with me.”

  Olivia forced back a tear and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Come,” she said. “Alastair awaits us.”

  As they entered the ballroom, Olivia first found her parents in the crowd. Helen stood awkwardly next to them, and Olivia’s heart went out to her sister. True, they had never been particularly close, but she knew that for all that she herself spoke whatever words came to mind, her sister spoke nearly not at all. Her mother had always been exasperated by the two of them, her life’s work having been devoted to seeing them married well.

  In that regard, thought Olivia with a wry grin, she had halfway succeeded, as Olivia was now married to a man who had, at one point, been one of the most eligible bachelors of the ton, one no one had ever thought would settle down.

  “Mother, Father,” Olivia said to them as Alastair kissed her mother’s hand and shook her father’s, before she turned to Helen and enveloped her in a large hug. “Helen, darling, you must tell me all that has happened since I left,” said Olivia.

  “Nothing at all,” said Helen. “It has been rather quiet and boring at home since you have been gone.”

  “I can imagine that,” interjected Alastair, before Olivia turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

  “Olivia,” Helen whispered to her, drawing her close. “How in heaven's name am I supposed to find myself a husband when I can hardly speak to any of these gentlemen?”

  “Simply be yourself,” Olivia said. “Speak to the men as if they were one of your friends.”

  “You do not understand how difficult that is for someone like me,” said Helen, as she fingered the broach Olivia had given her, which was now pinned to her dress. Olivia realized then how remiss she had been in not properly acknowledging her younger sister over the years they had spent together in their parents’ home. She had been much older than Helen, true, but still, she had always been too busy, too uninterested in her sister, who had always trailed along after her.

  “What do you enjoy most, Helen?” she asked her.

  “Reading,” she said. “Dancing, though more so in the privacy of my bedroom.”

  Olivia smiled. “Look around the room,” she said. “Perhaps the men that would be more suited to you are not so much the ones currently on the dance floor, but those on the periphery, as you are.”

  “Lady Helen,” Alastair approached them. “Would you permit me a dance with you? It does not seem fair to hide your beauty away from others in the room.”

  Helen blushed as Alastair took her hand, propelling her into the center of the ballroom. Olivia spoke with her parents while he did so, finding her mother much more agreeable now that they were on equal footing, and she was not so desperately trying to marry her off. Her father gave her shoulder a quick squeeze of fondness, and Olivia smiled into the eyes that were so like her own, realizing how much she had missed him. She resolved to do better at keeping up visits with them.

  “Olivia,” her father said quietly into her ear, away from her mother’s ears. “I must tell you, my dear, I am extremely proud of you. Not only have you made a good match, which has kept your mother happy, but you have put that intellect of yours to good use and I am well pleased. And more than anything, you seem truly happy, which gladdens me. See that the duke of yours treats you well, daughter.”

  “I will, Father,” she said with a smile at him. “And he will, I know it.”

  Olivia was happy to watch the whirl of dancers from the side of the dance floor next to her father. She watched as Alastair finished his dance with Helen, but instead of returning her to her parents, he walked her to the side of the room and introduced her to a comely man who looked near as young as she and likely as nervous, telling by the blush that rose up his cheeks as he bowed low over her hand.

  Olivia was pleased when Alastair returned to her, and her father moved off to speak with an acquaintance. Before she could say a word to her husband, however, she spotted Lady Hester Montgomery coming their way and grimaced. “There is the witch herself,” Olivia sighed into Alastair’s ear.

  Alastair grunted. “There is no need to speak with her. Come,” he said, and made to move by the woman without acknowledging her. Olivia was about to follow him, but something about the look in the woman’s eye made her stop. Before the hard look passed over her face, first there was something else there — a desperate yearning as she took in the pair of them, and in that instant, Olivia could find nothing but pity for the woman, that she had to stoop as low as she did in an attempt to ruin the happiness of another simply because she had not yet found her own.

  “Hester,” she said with a nod as the woman came to a stop in front of them. “Lovely to see you.”

  “Ah, darling Olivia,” Hester replied, her face wreathed in a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. “And Your Grace. How wonderful to encounter you this evening.”

  Alastair never responded, but simply stared the woman down.

  “I am happy to see you are well once again. I had heard that you were living with the Duchess of Carrington for a time, Olivia,” Hester said, narrowing her eyes at her.

  “I did have a lovely stay with Isabella while her husband had returned to his country estate,” Olivia replied with a smile, placing one hand on Alastair’s chest. “And how I missed my husband during that time and am so happy to be by his side once more. Enjoy your evening, Hester.”

  She felt the woman’s eyes shooting into her back, but Olivia allowed Alastair to lead her away, beyond the dance floor to a quiet space in the corner where they could have a quiet moment alone.

  “I cannot abide that woman for more than a moment,” Alastair said to her, his teeth gritted as he focused on her.

  “Yes, however, if it were not for her, we would not find ourselves as we are today,” Olivia reminded him.

  “I seem to recall your lovely mother also having a role to play in the beginning of our … courtship,” he said, winking at her.

  Olivia sighed. “Yes, she admitted as much. From what I gather, Hester followed us and on the way told Mother what she suspected. Rather than stopping her, Mother was more than pleased to disgrace the both of us. She claims my happiness was worth the family’s ruination. I believe more importantly she wanted to have ties to a duke.”

  “For all that happened, I would do it over and over again,” he said. “If for no other reason than to relive my first kiss with you once more.”

  “Just a kiss?” she asked coyly.

  “‘Tis all I need,” he said, his face mockingly serious. “Though if my wife were willing and wanting, I would gladly provide my services for more.”

  “Willing and wanting indeed,” she laughed. “No more talk of this, in the midst of a respectable ball.”

  “I shall save my talk until we are home,” he promised. “‘T
is a pity that now that Mother and Anne have left their mourning behind, we no longer have the carriage to ourselves. No matter. Anne looks quite pleased with herself this evening.”

  “Doesn’t she?” said Olivia. “The two of you are both so captivating, drawing the ton to you as flies to honey. Look at the gentlemen circling her. You both have the lovely countenance of your mother, though an additional vivaciousness.”

  He smiled sadly. “If only you had met my father. My mother always provided us with sunshine, friendliness and joy. She was much happier herself at one point, but my father was miserable enough that he drove it from her. I can see bits of it returning, however. Now, never mind that. I should realize how fortunate I am to have a mother like mine in my life.”

  “I promise to one day be a good mother to our children,” she said suddenly. “To be present, to be happy, and provide them all that they need.”

  “You will be a wonderful mother,” he assured her, his eyes warming as he looked down at her, grasping tightly to him the hand that rested on his arm. “Just as you are the perfect wife.”

  “The perfect wife — for you,” she added, pointing a finger at his chest.

  “Now then. You are in the dancing mood this evening, love?” he asked.

  “I always am,” she said, “perhaps we can dance just once, if for nothing than to allow the skirts of this beautiful dress to flow around me while I am held in my husband’s arms.”

  He stopped and reached down, writing his name at the top of her dance card before stroking a line downward through the rest of the empty spaces. “There,” he said. “It seems we are each now entirely booked for the evening. On or off the dance floor, it will be you and you alone.”

  She laughed. “There is no need to convince me of your loyalty, Alastair,” she said. “I am fully aware of your intentions.”