Page 29 of The Duke of Pain

Yet as platters of sandwiches and written proposals were passed around the table, Gideon wondered: was this change in attitude brought about by becoming involved with Olivia?

Could he be—falling in love?

* * *

Two weeks passed, and in that time, Olivia and Gideon had met for the formal dinner at the Savoy Hotel. It had been an overwhelming experience to Olivia, as the menu was in French, but Gideon had ordered them a delicious meal and took the time to explain each dish.

He again regaled her with tidbits of information. Such as, the Savoy was the first public building in the world to be lit entirely by electricity with electric lifts to take people between floors.

The opulence of the place was quite spectacular, and the fancy meal consisting of numerous courses nearly had her bursting her stays. Olivia particularly liked the grilled salmon with dill sauce, and Gideon ensured she was given some to take back to her room under the pretense it was for her fictitious cat.

Today, they were on a carriage ride through Hyde Park in a fashionable landau with a single horse and driver. The sun was out, and it was a glorious spring day.

Gideon swept his arm in an arc. “Take a good look, Liv. In five years, this will all be gone.”

“What do you mean?”

Gideon pointed across the way at one of those horseless autos rattling and sputtering noisily along the main road. “Carriages will become a thing of the past, and sooner than many believe.”

“Oh, surely not. Those motor cars are smelly things. A temporary fad.”

Gideon snorted. “I hope not. I have invested with some acquaintances in the Daimler Motor Company Limited. With the passage of the Locomotives on Highways Act two years ago, motor vehicles are now permitted on roads and streets, with certain conditions.”

“How forwarding thinking of you. Is that one of your motors?” Olivia said.

“No. The cars you see on the roads are probably German. Ours will debut next year if all goes well. So far, it has been a shrewd investment. I’ve made money already on the venture. This is the future.” Gideon chuckled. “And I shouldn’t be speaking of money in a lady’s presence. It’s considered crass.”

“Society again?”

“I know. So many rules. How about some ice cream? There is a vendor there on the opposite side.”

She smiled at Gideon. “I would love one.”

He ordered his driver to pull over to the side, and he strode across the green area to stand in a queue.

The duke was such a magnificent figure of a man. But it was more than his stunning looks.

They spoke with ease, and Gideon felt comfortable enough to mention his investments. It proved that they were compatible. At least as far as conversing was concerned.

But where could this go? It didn’t bear thinking about today. Why ruin the afternoon?

“Well, if it isn’t Mistress Birch. Have your riding crop with you today? Did you use it on the horse—or on Watford?”

Olivia stiffened, then turned toward the direction of the sardonic male voice. Golden-haired and handsome beyond words, where had she seen this man before?

He bowed. “We were not formally introduced, but I was speaking with Watford in the gold room when you walked in. He then unceremoniously hustled me out.”

Oh. Right.

She remained silent.

“Damon Cranston, Marquess of Brookton at your service.”

“My lord,” she murmured, wishing him gone.

“I say, I suppose it would be better phrased to say you are at my service, for a price, of course. I would like to make an appointment, Mistress Birch. With you.”

Arrogant—she could hear it in his sneering tone.