It was some hours later when she and Dominic danced the waltz before they could exchange a few words. She had met so many people tonight, it made her head swim. “Our marriage seems to have barely caused a ripple,” She smiled up at him, enjoying their closeness.
“The gossips talk of nothing but Lady Frencham,” Dominic said. “It appears she has run away with her butler.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “My goodness. Poor Lord Frencham.”
“He is consoling himself with his mistress.” He nodded to where a bald-headed gentleman danced with a woman in a purple gown.
“I see London shall take some getting used to,” Olivia said breathlessly after he’d spun her around. “I’ve heard some gossip, too. Mrs. Marsham, a lady I am yet to meet, has apparently taken a new lover, but no one seems to mind.”
“Least of all, Mr. Marsham,” Dominic said with an ironic smile.
“If you took a lover, remember, what is good for the gander is also good for the goose,” she said with a teasing smile.
“I have no intention of it, and neither will you, my lady,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “For I would run the fellow through.”
Thrilled by his passionate response, she met his intense green eyes. “Why would I, when I have the handsomest man in thetonat home?”
*
Redcliffe Hall two months later…
In the ballroom,the hunt ball was in full swing. Olivia sipped champagne as she wandered among the guests. The musicians played Beethoven, and dancers packed the floor for the quadrille.
Flushed and animated, Helen danced past with John Pembroke, a friend of Dominic’s.
Might something come of it? How blessed she and Dominic were. Their dear friends would stay for several days. The men would take the guns out, while the women drank tea and chatted, roamed the gardens, and played whist, and in the evenings, there would be card play and dancing. A full contingent of staff was now employed. Sam had grown in confidence with a sous chef to assist him in the kitchen. He and Polly had just become engaged and planned to stay on at Redcliffe Hall once they were man and wife.
The guests laughed and enjoyed themselves. With Meg as housekeeper, they wanted for nothing.
Olivia’s time in London had passed like a whirlwind. She’d curtsied before the Prince of Wales and other royals and met many dignitaries. Some she liked, some she didn’t. Dominic told her she held her own admirably in any company, and while she was not blind to her shortcomings, she hoped it might be true.
Viscount and Lady Trelawny—Dominic’s sister, Evelyn, and her husband Justin—were on the dancefloor. They’d warmly welcomed Olivia into the family. She looked forward to spending Christmas with them. Evelyn’s choice of a bride for Dominic, Lady Marianne Gillingham, and her parents had come. Marianne was beautiful. In London, Olivia had worried that he should have married a lady from his world, but as the days passed into weeks and months, it no longer concerned her.
The orchestra struck up a waltz. Dominic made his way toward her, and her heart did that pitter-patter again. He was so handsome, so outrageous and determined, and so wonderful a lover. Her pulse skittered to think of what awaited them tonight.
“My dance, I believe, my love.” They exchanged a look, and she flushed, sensing he was of the same thought as she. She’d become so bold in the bedchamber.
He spun her over the floor, and she breathed in his clean smell, uniquely him and very male, and thought how perfect this moment was.
Lady Marianne danced past them. She smiled boldly at Dominic.
Olivia ignored it. But during the evening, she drank two more glasses of champagne than she was wont to do.
After the ball ended and they retired, Olivia, in her lacy peignoir, dismissed Emily, who had become her lady’s maid. She sat at the dressing table brushing her hair. It was down to her waist now. Dominic preferred it long. One hundred strokes every night until it shone.
A few minutes later, he entered in his blue and gold silk dressing gown. He bent to kiss her shoulder, then lay down on the velvet upholstered chaise. She watched him in the mirror, aware the wine made her bolder. She put down the brush and rose, then sashayed in her bare feet across the room to where he lay with one arm beneath his head watching her.
“Lady Marianne Gillingham is beautiful and very young,” she said, pushing her curls back over her shoulder.
“She is.” Dominic’s gaze roamed over his lovely wife, remembering their sleepy early morning lovemaking, and wanting her again.
It was apparently not the right response. Olivia glared at him. She swung toward him, her filmy gown swirling around her elegant ankles. “Perhaps you should have married her. It would have delighted your sister.”
“Evelyn is pleased to see me married. And happy with my choice.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Do I make you happy?”
“Oh, you do, my darling. Very much.”
