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Olivia tilted her head. "My duties concerning the Delves name?"

"You are now a duchess," he explained, rising from his chair. "That title carries expectations. The family name must remain honorable, and I expect you to understand what that means. There are certain people you will receive, certain causes you will support, certain occasions you will attend, and certain conduct expected of you. No stealing of horses and running away."

She studied him carefully. "I understand."

"The housekeeper will show you your duties to the household." James moved around the desk, adjusting his cuffs. "She will show you the responsibilities of managing. I will not be around much."

Olivia's expression changed. "You will be away?"

"I have tenant issues that require my attention," he said, his tone becoming brisk. "There are several disputes regarding leases and rents, and I need to inspect the northern properties myself. I will likely be away from Glenmore more often than I am here. It is a day’s ride, but I often stay at the Inn in those parts when dealing with such issues."

Something flickered across Olivia's face.

Disappointment, perhaps?

James recognized it and immediately pushed the thought aside. It was better this way. Distance would make their arrangement easier. She could establish herself as duchess, care for Felix, manage the household, and fulfil her part of their agreement while he attended to the estate.

He had spent years building walls around himself because walls were useful. They kept out disappointment, demands, and unwanted affection. Olivia had already begun finding cracks in those walls without even trying.

James could not allow that to continue.

"Come," he said, reaching for his coat. "I will begin with the Delves responsibilities."

Olivia nodded and followed him toward the door.

James did not look back at her as they left the study, because he knew that if he did, he might see something in her expression that would make his carefully constructed distance considerably harder to maintain.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning, James was halfway through a stack of estate papers when a knock sounded upon the study door. He looked up with immediate irritation, for he had specifically instructed the household that he was not to be disturbed unless the matter concerned Felix, an urgent estate concern, or Olivia.

"Enter," he called, expecting to see his steward or perhaps the housekeeper, but instead one of the footmen stepped inside and bowed.

"Your Grace, Lord Percy Nichols has arrived and requests an audience."

James stared at him. "Lord Percy Nichols?" he repeated, as though the name belonged to a man who had been dead for a decade. "I did not invite him."

The footman lowered his head. "No, Your Grace. His lordship said he has just returned to the county and hoped you might receive him."

James pushed himself back in his chair, astonishment slowly replacing irritation. Percy Nichols. He had not seen the man in two years, and the last James had heard, Percy had been travelling through Europe.

"Send him in," he said at last, and the footman bowed before disappearing.

A moment later, Percy entered the study with the easy confidence of a man who had never considered himself a stranger in Glenmore Manor.

At twenty-five, he was handsome in an effortless fashion, with dark blond hair, clear brown eyes, and a pleasant face that had somehow become more distinguished since James had last seen him. His estate was modest compared with Glenmore, but Percy had always possessed a practical mind and enough ambition to make the most of what he had.

The moment he saw James, his face brightened. "Glenmore! I had wondered whether I should find you buried beneath paperwork or halfway across the county with your tenants."

James rose, and despite himself, a smile tugged at his mouth. "Nichols. I thought you were abroad."

"I have been." Percy crossed the room and clasped his hand warmly. "Two years, almost to the day. I returned to England last week and mean to remain in Northumberland for some time. I thought I should see whether my old friend had become entirely insufferable in my absence."

"You have returned at an unfortunate moment, then," James replied dryly. "I have become worse."

Percy laughed, and some of the stiffness James had carried since his father's death seemed to ease. "Then I shall have to save you from yourself."

James gestured toward the chairs. "Sit. You have travelled enough to deserve a drink." He crossed to the sideboard and poured them both brandy, handing Percy a glass before settling into his own chair.