But what?
Chapter 4
Olivia sat in the garden, taking tea with Emma and Juliet. The day greeted them with warm sunshine and a gentle breeze carrying the scent of orchids and honeysuckle. How perfect it would be if only she didn’t have to concern herself with impending doom. She added a lump of sugar to her tea, then said, “I fear that the duke may well be the devil.”
Juliet’s laughter tinkled through the air while Emma gave Olivia a stern look.
“I tell you true,” Olivia said firmly, as she stirred her tea.
Juliet’s laughter faded into a bright smile. “I’m sure he’s not.”
“Of course, he isn’t,” Emma added, adjusting her bonnet to better shield her face from the sun.
Olivia shook her head. “If you saw the way he behaves when we’re alone, you’d change your minds,” she said, then brought her teacup to her lips and took a slow sip of the hot brew.
“Why? How does he behave?” Juliet leaned forward, her eyes dancing with mischief. “You must confide in us?”
Olivia glanced at Emma, who simply sipped her tea as though she had no opinion or curiosity over the subject at all. Their eyes met, and Emma lowered her teacup. “Yes, do confide in us so I can set your mind at ease.”
“Very well,” Olivia propped her elbows on the table. “To begin with, he says inappropriate things.”
“Such as,” Juliet prompted.
“He told me he would not ravish me unless I wished for it.” Her cheeks warmed as she repeated his words. Only a scoundrel would say such a thing. Had he expected her to swoon into his arms?
Juliet gasped, her hand coming to her lips. “Did you blush then as you are now?”
“Hush.” Olivia shook her head.
Emma waved her hand, dismissively. “Perhaps his words were a bit inappropriate but hardly scandalous as he is to be your husband.”
Olivia tapped her fingers against the side of her teacup. “He has a way of standing to close and touching me too freely. For example, he placed his hand on my shoulder without cause or invitation.”
“Hardly untoward behavior,” Emma said, her gaze trained on Olivia.
Juliet rolled her eyes. “I must agree with Emma. It seems you are reaching. Perhaps he is a bit of a rogue, but hardly the devil.”
“You are both wrong,” Olivia said. “But regardless, there is more you must hear. He told me that he desires to marry now because his sisters need a mother figure. No other reason. I’m to be a caretaker, launch them on society and guide them as a mother would.”
Juliet pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing. “That is not at all romantic.”
“Absolutely not.” Emma shook her head. “However, it is most practical.”
“I do not want practical.” Olivia sighed. “I have no wish to be treated as staff. No inclination to endure a marriage of convenience—worse, a marriage that offers nothing for me beyond lonely night’s and tedious days.”
“Of course not, darling.” Juliet reached for Olivia’s hand and gave a comforting squeeze. “We shall help you.” She turned her gaze on Emma. “Shan’t we?”
“Most certainly,” Emma agreed, her bright smile falling seamlessly back into place.
Olivia sipped from her teacup, taking a moment to gather her wits. The fortuneteller’s words circled through her mind for the hundredth time, and she said, “Madame Zeta said folly would find me love. What do you suppose she meant?”
Emma’s mouth twisted up in disapproval, and she shook her head. “It’s poppycock. Don’t base your decisions on veiled words from a fortuneteller.”
“I disagree,” Juliet’s eyes sparkled as she sat her tea aside. “You must do something drastic to dissuade his grace. Make him see you as unfit for the role of mother.”
Olivia sipped her tea. If the duke thought her to be a bad influence, he’d surely call off the engagement. Mother and Father would be furious with her, though all would be worth the consequences because, in the end, she would gain her freedom. But what could she do to make him see her as unfit? To make his stomach sour at the idea of her caring for his sisters?
As though Juliet could read Olivia’s mind, she leaned forward and gave a mischievous smile. “You must act like a hoyden. Let him see you doing things a lady dare not do.”
