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She lifted her chin and gave a satisfied nod. "Well, that is good of you to acknowledge it finally," she said, returning to her chair. "I was beginning to think neither of you possessed enough gratitude to understand the effort I have made on your behalf."

"Yes, Aunt Jane," Olivia murmured sweetly, while Louiza coughed into her hand.

Lady Charnley resumed her tea, apparently satisfied that order had been restored. Olivia stared into the fire and tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. She had never been particularly good at waiting, and now every passing hour felt like a piece of her freedom being carried away. She trusted James because she wanted to, because something in his manner made her believe that when he gave his word, he intended to keep it.

Still, hope is a dangerous thing.

Olivia knew better than anyone that wishing for rescue did not make rescue certain. She would not abandon Louiza, and she would not abandon the baby.

I can only pray that James will not abandon us either.

The parlor had just settled into an oppressive silence when the door opened and a servant hurried inside, looking so frightened that Olivia immediately suspected either the house was on fire or someone had finally informed him that Lady Charnley had opinions about his work.

He stopped several feet from her aunt, clasped his hands together, and appeared to struggle with the courage required to speak.

Lady Charnley looked up from her tea with immediate irritation. "Well? Spit it out," she snapped, setting her saucer down with a sharp click. If you have something to say, then say it. I have no intention of watching you tremble all afternoon."

The poor man swallowed. Olivia almost felt sorry for him, though she suspected he had already discovered that delivering bad news to Lady Charnley was one of the more dangerous occupations available at Charnley Manor.

"Your Ladyship," the servant began nervously, glancing toward the door as though considering escape, "the Duke of Glenmore is in the entrance hall."

Olivia's heart stopped for half a beat.

The servant continued, "His Grace has announced that Lady Olivia and Lady Louiza are to pack their belongings, because he is taking them to reside at Glenmore Manor."

Olivia stared at him scarcely certain she had heard correctly. Then a rush of excitement swept through her so quickly that she nearly rose from her chair.

The duke has come.

He has actually come. He has held his end of the agreement. I cannot believe it.

Her heart racing as a smile threatened to betray her. She had wondered whether she had been foolish to trust him, whether she had imagined the certainty in his voice and now he had arrived precisely as he promised.

Louiza's hand suddenly found hers beneath the edge of the tea table, and her fingers squeezed tightly. Olivia turned toward her sister and saw the same astonishment reflected in her face, along with a spark of triumph that made Olivia want to laugh aloud. They had spent days being ordered about, threatened, separated, and treated as though neither possessed a mind of her own, and now a duke had arrived to remove them from the entire ridiculous arrangement. Olivia squeezed Louiza's hand in return, fighting to keep her expression respectable. It was not entirely successful. Her cheeks were warm, her eyes bright, and she suspected she looked like a woman who had just been handed the keys to heaven.

Lady Charnley, however, looked as though someone had handed her the bill for it. "What?" she demanded, springing to her feet so abruptly that her chair scraped against the carpet. "I have never heard of such a scandalous thing in my life."

She looked from the servant to her nieces, her face growing redder by the second. "Those girls will not leave this house. They will leave over my dead body!"

Olivia lowered her gaze, ostensibly to inspect the embroidery on her gown, because looking directly at Louiza would certainly make her laugh. The phrase sounded considerably less frightening now that James was standing somewhere in the house. Lady Charnley might have been formidable when confronting two young women without allies, but she seemed rather less formidable against a duke.

The servant stepped aside as footsteps sounded in the corridor, and James entered the parlor with the calm authority of a man who had never once considered that he might be unwelcome. Olivia's heart gave another foolish leap at the sight of him. He wore a dark coat perfectly fitted across his broad shoulders, his long brown hair tied neatly behind him, and there was something in the controlled expression of his blue eyes that made the entire room seem suddenly smaller. He looked first at Olivia, and for the briefest moment his expression softened. That tiny change was enough to make her stomach flutter. Then he turned toward Lady Charnley.

"Lady Charnley," James said, his voice calm as he inclined his head. "Your nieces are both adults. They are free to leave your house whenever they choose." He took another measured step into the room, his gaze steady upon her. "If you attempt to restrain either of them, I shall have no choice but to involve the authorities."

Lady Charnley's mouth opened, then closed. Olivia had never seen her aunt rendered speechless so efficiently, and she found the experience unexpectedly delightful.

"But, but, Your Grace," Lady Charnley stammered, rising straighter as though posture might somehow protect her from the power of a duke. "You misunderstand. I am merely concerned for my nieces. They cannot simply go off alone with a man." She clasped her hands together nervously. "What could you possibly want with them?"

James regarded her with such composure that Olivia wondered whether he found the question amusing. "I am marrying Olivia," he replied.

Lady Charnley's fingers loosened around her teacup. For one glorious second, Olivia thought the woman might actually drop herself.

Instead, the cup slipped from her hand and struck the floor, shattering across the carpet. Olivia and Louiza exchanged a look, and both immediately lowered their faces to conceal their laughter. Olivia bit the inside of her cheek so hard it hurt. She had never before realized that a broken teacup could be so satisfying. Lady Charnley stared at the wreckage as though it had personally betrayed her, then looked back at James.

"This is impossible!" she spluttered. "Olivia is marrying Lord Boulton in two days!"

"By then," James said evenly, "Olivia will already be my wife. She will not be marrying anyone else."