“Thank you, my dear,” Mama said, and wafted them under her nose, probably more for effect than for any real need to stave off a fainting fit.
“I’ll have men posted on the road just in case,” Thorn said.
“No need,” her stepmother said as she continued to sniff the smelling salts. “Olivia and I are leaving right away. I shan’t allow her to stay here with you and be ruined for good.”
“Mama—” Olivia began.
“I have no intention of ruining her,” Thorn said, as if Olivia hadn’t spoken. “I mean to marry her.”
Olivia froze. Had he really just said that?
Meanwhile, her stepmother wasn’t pacified in the least by his offhand proposal. “Over my dead body,” she said, startling Olivia and Thorn both.
He narrowed his gaze on her stepmother. “Perhaps you and I should speak privately, Lady Norley.”
“Absolutely not,” Olivia put in. “The last time you two spoke privately, Mama blackmailed you into making a lackluster offer for me.”
“You knew about the blackmail?” her stepmother squeaked.
“Not until recently,” Olivia said. “And that’s yet another matter you kept from me.”
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Mama said.
“I’m sure you had noble intentions. Everyone seems to have noble intentions when they leave me out of things.”
At just that moment, Gwyn returned with servants bearing tea and coffee, a number of delicious-looking cakes, and toast and butter. While they were setting out the trays, Gwyn urged Olivia, Thorn, and Olivia’s stepmother to take a seat.
Olivia ate her toast while waiting for the servants to leave. Once they were gone, however, she told Thorn, “The only way I will even consider marrying you, Your Grace, is if you make me a genuine offer.”
Gwyn looked startled by the comment, but wisely didn’t try to be part of the conversation.
Thorn, who’d taken the seat opposite Olivia’s, flashed her a tender smile. “This is a genuine offer, sweeting. I truly wish for you to be my duchess.”
A million questions entered Olivia’s head. But first . . . “Mama, would you go out into the hall for a few minutes? His Grace and I need to have a private conversation.”
Mama glanced from Olivia to Thorn. “You’re not marrying him, not a man with his reputation. I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to Thornstock. And you, dearest, can do better.”
Olivia seriously doubted that, but that would require a longer explanation than she had time for. “Please, Mama. Let me speak to the duke alone.”
Gwyn stepped in at that moment, rising from the settee to hold her hand out to Mama. “Lady Norley, have you seen my brother’s beautiful gardens? It’s a lovely day outside, and I know you would enjoy touring them.”
Mama appeared apprehensive, but she rose at last and let Gwyn guide her out. They were barely out the door when Thorn changed seats so he could sit next to Olivia.
He took her hand. “Tell me what your objections are, sweeting, and I will try to address them.”
Her main objection was he didn’t love her and didn’t have any intention of changing that state of affairs. But she was too much a coward to say that, especially since she still wasn’t sure if she loved him. Besides, she had plenty of other objections to voice.
Steadying her gaze on him, she said, “You told me at your sister’s ball in London that you would never offer for me. So what changed your mind?”
“Everything is different now.”
She lowered her voice. “You mean, because you bedded me.”
“I mean, because I have come to know you. Once I realized you had no idea that your stepmother was blackmailing me, I was able to look at you more clearly, to see the lovely and principled woman I was so enamored of nine years ago.”
“‘Enamored of ’ ! You weren’t enamored of me.”
He leaned closer. “Did you really think it was usual for me to kiss women I had just met? I assure you, it was not. But you and your interest in chemistry fascinated me. Why else do you think I got so angry once we were caught? I was sure you had conspired with your mother to entrap me, that you had somehow pulled the wool over my eyes.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” she muttered, and started to stand.
But he pulled her back down. “My point is, as far as I’m concerned, things have changed between us. Or we’ve merely taken off our blinders so we can see each other as we really are. Don’t you agree?”
“Perhaps.”
“And there are practical reasons for us to marry. However you feel about it, I have taken your innocence. Some anonymous person has already learned that you left Carymont and has informed your stepmother of that fact, so what’s to keep him from telling the rest of society? And if he followed your stepmother here, he’ll know you’re with me. Just a whisper of a possibility that you and I are alone together would ruin you.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.” She dropped his hand to pour herself some coffee. “I don’t care if I’m a pariah. I never did belong in society anyway. Why do you think I like the Juncker plays so much? Because he mocks those who will do anything to fit in and lauds those who have minds of their own. Sometimes it seems almost as if he writes the plays for me. I know that sounds silly, but that’s how I feel.”
A pinched expression crossed his face, reminding her he didn’t much care for his friend Juncker’s plays.
“My point is,” she said hastily, “it doesn’t matter if I’m ruined.”
He stared intently at her. “But having scandal surround you won’t help you establish yourself as a legitimate chemist.”
“Chemists don’t care about society and scandal. They merely care about isolating new elements, doing experiments to prove their hypotheses, and finding new chemical compositions that would help people. Besides, it’s not as if you’ll let me be a chemist once we marry, anyway.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She sipped her coffee. “You would let me do experiments that might lead to dangerous situations?”
“Your experiments don’t usually blow up in your face, do they?”
“Not as a general rule, no. But they could.”
“I see.” He poured himself some coffee, too, and took a sip. “That’s something we would have to work out—what you do in your laboratory.” He stared down into his cup. “And honestly, you and I both have hobbies we enjoy, so we’ll simply have to agree on how far we would allow each other to take those hobbies.”
That was certainly a curious way of putting it. “I don’t consider what I do a ‘hobby.’ I take my work very seriously.”
“Fine. Then call it a pastime.”
“A profession,” she said.
“Duchesses don’t usually have professions,” he pointed out.
“You’re certainly not reassuring me that I’ll be able to continue as a chemist if I marry you.” She eyed him closely. “And what hobbies do you have, anyway?”
Alarm flashed over his face. “Nothing that would bother you, I’m sure. Just the usual gentlemanly pursuits.”
“Like drinking, gambling, and whoring?” she asked pointedly.
He fixed her with a dark look. “I would be faithful to you, if that’s what you’re asking.”
That was one of the things she was asking. “You already know what my ‘hobby’ is. Why can’t you tell me what yours is?”
“As I said, it’s nothing as concrete as yours.” His shuttered expression belied that. “I enjoy going to the theater and going to my club, that sort of thing.”
“Much like my Papa.”
“Not like your ‘Papa,’” he said fiercely. “I intend to be around for you and our children. I mean to be a proper husband, not a selfish arse.” He caught himself. “Not that I’m calling your father an arse, mind you, but—”
“He is one, trust me,” she said dryly.
And clearly she wasn’t going to get a better answer from Thorn. Perhaps she could live with t
hat, too. As long as he let her practice her chosen profession.
“Speaking of children,” he said, “what if you find yourself with child?”
“That would be a different matter entirely. I’d certainly marry you then. I shan’t make any child of mine suffer the ignominy of being a bastard when it was my reckless behavior that brought him or her into this world.”
“And mine. If anything, I’m more culpable. I seduced you.”
She shrugged. “I wanted to be seduced.”
He took her hand again. “And now that you have been, you will almost certainly wish to do it again. Assuming that you enjoyed it.”
“I did,” she admitted.
A faint smile tipped up his lips. “So that’s an argument in favor of our marrying, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” She gazed at their joined hands. “I just . . . don’t want you to marry me out of some noble impulse to save me from ruin. Or because you think you must protect me from the villain or villains you and your family are trying to find.”
“I’ll admit I’d prefer to keep you close, partly because I do worry about the ‘villain or villains’ who might have you in their sights. But the rest of the truth is more selfish—I want to marry you out of a thoroughly ignoble impulse to have you in my bed whenever I wish. Does that make you feel any better about my marriage proposal?”
She arched an eyebrow. “It sounds more like you, at least.”
He turned serious again. “I think we could make a good go of it, Olivia. We prefer each other’s company to that of good society. We want the same things out of life. And we make sense together. That’s enough for me. Isn’t it enough for you?”
A pang seized her that she fought to ignore. No, it wasn’t enough for her, but only because she still yearned for love and happiness and all that those entailed. Unfortunately, he did not. And she wasn’t sure he ever would.
Could she live with that?
“Yes,” she said. “It’s enough.”
For the moment, anyway. She would simply have to take each day as it came, and hope that in time they would learn to love each other.
But now came the most difficult part. Telling Mama.
Chapter Fourteen
“Have you lost your mind?” Olivia’s stepmother cried. “That man will be the ruin of you if you marry him.”
“Mama, please,” Olivia said.
They’d been going round and round about this in the drawing room, while Thorn had been in the hall telling his sister about their engagement. Her stepmother was being unreasonable.
“I mean it!” Mama said. “Do you know his reputation? The women he has seduced? You’d be better off marrying nobody, and I have never said that before, as you well know.”
Olivia eyed her stepmother askance. “You’re not making any sense. Years ago, you resorted to blackmail to try and get him to marry me, and now you don’t want him to marry me?”
“Years ago, I wanted to be a good mother to you. And that meant finding you the best gentleman to marry, as far as I was concerned. At the time, I thought that was Thornstock. He was a duke, for one thing. For another, he’d been caught kissing you, so he clearly liked you.” Her voice hardened. “But back then he wasn’t who he is today—a roué and a rogue.”
“Don’t speak ill of him to me,” Olivia said firmly. “I want to marry him, and he wants to marry me. So you will just have to accept it, Mama. I’m old enough that I don’t need your permission.” She softened her voice. “But I should like to have your blessing, all the same.”
Her stepmother dropped onto the settee with a heavy sigh. “I want to do right by you, dear heart. But sometimes I don’t know what that is.”
“Sometimes I don’t know what that is.” Olivia sat down beside her to take her hand. “But I appreciate your efforts, and I know you have my best interests in mind.”
“When I married your father, he made it quite clear he was marrying me for two reasons only: to give him an heir and you a mother. I failed at the first, but I have tried very hard at the second. I wanted to be a good mother to you.”
“And you have been, Mama. Truly.”
Mama clasped her hand tightly. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, you know.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You were such a little waif at eight years old, still grieving the loss of your real mother, and you needed me so much. But now . . .”
“Now I need you even more. There’s a wedding to plan and this house to set to rights.” Privately, Olivia thought the house didn’t really need anything, but Mama was always looking for things to change in their own house, so she would probably have suggestions for Olivia’s house, too.
It dawned on Olivia that she was to have her own household: a place that was hers to run as she saw fit. Granted, Thorn had a housekeeper and a butler and probably a million other servants doing this and that. But someone at the top had to be in charge and tell them what to do. That person would be her. What a heady thought!
There were clearly some advantages to marriage she hadn’t considered. I want to marry you out of a thoroughly ignoble impulse to have you in my bed whenever I wish.
Her cheeks flamed. That was another advantage—sharing Thorn’s bed.
“You’re blushing,” her stepmother said.
“It’s rather warm in here, don’t you think?” Olivia said, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
Her stepmother’s gaze narrowed on her. “You’re blushing over him.”
“What’s wrong with that? Shouldn’t I find my future husband attractive?”
Mama sighed. “Of course you should. It just means you’re more enamored of him than I realized.” She stared down at her hands. “I suppose he was the one to tell you about the blackmail?”
“He was. He wanted to explain why he was so angry when I refused his offer the first time.” Olivia gazed across the room and through the window, where she could see Thorn and Gwyn walking in the garden, and the tightness in her chest grew painful. The blackmail was a sore subject for her. “Did you really assume I was so incapable of attracting a husband that you had to blackmail one into offering for me?”
“No, indeed, dear heart! Is that what you thought?”
“I thought you wished to get rid of your ungainly chemist of a stepdaughter before you were saddled with her for all your days.” A bitterness several years in the making crept into her tone. “You must have been very disappointed in me when I turned him down after you’d gone to all that trouble to secure him.”
“No, indeed. There is naught you could do to disappoint me, dear heart.” Mama patted her hand. “And I never meant for you to know about my bargain with him. I assure you I was simply trying to do my best by you. It was certainly never about getting rid of you. Why do you think I’m here? To save you from a bad marriage.”
“I don’t need saving this time. Or rather, I can save myself if I must.” She smiled at her stepmother. “So do I have your blessing?”
Mama stared earnestly at her. “Do you love him?”
The question caught her off guard, probably because she’d avoided thinking about it once he’d voiced his cynicism about love and happiness in a marriage. So she told the truth. “I don’t know. If I let myself love him, I fear he’ll break my heart in the end.”
Saying it out loud made it feel even more possible.
Her stepmother nodded. “I understand your fear, though marriage was different for me. I knew, when I married your father, that it wasn’t a love match, and I accepted that. I hadn’t had any other offers of marriage, you see, so I took my chances.” She chucked Olivia under the chin. “I don’t regret it one bit, because I’ve had you to make me happy, you to love. And though I may not understand your passion for chemistry, I do finally accept your need to do it. Why, you have the great Duke of Greycourt relying on your knowledge! That’s more than most male chemists have. I’m very proud of you.”
“Oh, Mama,” she whispered, and hugged her hard, tears filling her eyes. �
��That means a lot to me.” More than her stepmother could possibly know.
Mama drew back to stare at her with concern. “But, my dearest, just be sure of what you want. You know his reputation.”
“I do. But I also know he came by some of it unfairly.” Still, the conversation she’d had with him about hobbies was a little disconcerting, especially since she was almost certain he’d been holding back something about his. But she wasn’t about to tell her stepmother about that.
“Well then, if you love him, do it with your whole heart. I daresay it’s better to risk rejection than to spend the rest of your life as you have the past nine years, not loving anyone at all. He seems to truly wish to marry you this time. And if you want him”—she let out a heavy breath—“then you have my blessing.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Olivia rose from the settee, but her stepmother grabbed her hand before she could move away. “With one caveat. If you have any concern, any reason you have changed your mind about him, just tell me and your father and I will stand by you, no matter what.”
“You mean, even if it requires watching me jilt the same duke twice?”
Her stepmother laughed. “Even then. But let’s hope you don’t have to.”
“Let’s hope not.”
Because she wasn’t certain she could survive that again.
* * *
Thorn paced the hall outside the drawing room, waiting for Olivia and Lady Norley to finish their conversation. Olivia’s stepmother had better not talk her out of marrying him. If the baroness meddled with him and Olivia a second time, he would . . . would . . .
What would he do? What could he do? He held Olivia by the merest thread, and nearly anything might make that thread snap.
“It’s odd to see you so flustered over a woman,” Gwyn said as she sat coolly on a hall chair. “Or perhaps in love for a change?”
“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally. Although he wasn’t about to tell his sister, he knew better than to fall in love. That way lay madness.
Olivia’s words last night leapt into his mind: I wager you’re just using that as an excuse for why you continue as a carefree bachelor.
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