Page 88 of This Marquess of Mine

Chapter Twenty-Six

Two days later, after a tearful farewell with her father and the promise to see each other at Christmas, Olivia piled into her aunt’s carriage and the two set out for Keswick House.

“Did you have a nice visit with your father, my dear?” Aunt Augusta asked from her seat beside Olivia on the plush velvet squabs.

“I did,” she answered, an audible note of bewilderment in her voice. “I never thought I would say those words. Or see the day when my father would tell me he’s proud of me. To learn that he never hated me, after all those years believing he did…” She trailed off with a shake of her head, still amazed by it, even all these weeks later.

“Your father never was a very expressive man,” Aunt Augusta said. “Not even when your mother was alive. Still, that does not excuse his behavior. He should have done better by you. To think of all those years, lost…” She gave her tongue a disapproving cluck.

“It would have been nice, having a father who was more than just an absent guardian,” Olivia agreed, settling deeper into the seat. “I don’t know that we would have been close—not in the way I am with you—but…” She shrugged. “Still, I am grateful that he’s a part of my life now, and that I no longer believe he hates me.”

Aunt Augusta gave her a smile of understanding and reached out to cover her hands with one of her own. “He does seem happier since he married Caroline,” she said. “I never thought I would see him so content again. He seems to care for her a great deal, and she him.”

Olivia nodded. “I agree,” she said. “And I’m glad. I hope they’re always happy, and I hope their children will be happy.”

She meant it, too, with all her heart. It was freeing, feeling this way, feeling happy for her father and his growing family, instead of the resentment and jealousy she’d known before.

She wasn’t sure what she would do with her life, or even what she would do after this visit to Keswick House, but it was nice to be able to face such decisions with an unburdened conscience.

The next several hours passed with little ado until finally, around four o’clock, their carriage rolled to a halt in front of Keswick House. A footman handed Olivia down onto the white gravel and then her aunt down from the carriage, the front door to the great house opened and out came Lady Keswick wearing a purple-striped gown and a bright smile.

“There you are!” she cried as she walked toward them, her arms outstretched. “Welcome, darlings! How was your journey?”

“We weren’t set upon by highwaymen or ravaged by a rogue snowstorm, so I suppose it went as well as could be expected,” Aunt Augusta said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She was always grouchy when she first awoke from a nap.

Olivia smiled at Lady Keswick and the two embraced. “You’re looking lovely, as always, my lady,” Olivia said. “How is your ankle faring?”

“It has healed quite nicely, thank you.” The marchioness looped her arm through Olivia’s and began leading her toward the front door. “I can move on it freely now, and the tenderness is nearly gone.” She leaned in close, as if imparting a secret. “Of course, I shall have to give your aunt a wide berth from here on out. She and that walking stick of hers are a danger to us all.”

Olivia’s lips twitched with mirth. “Perhaps it would be easier if we simply hid it from her?”

Lady Keswick nodded. “Good idea. I’ll distract her while you swipe the walking stick.”

From behind them, Aunt Augusta heaved a noisy sigh. “You’re never going to let me forget about your ankle, are you?”

Lady Keswick glanced over her shoulder. “Of course I will, Augusta,” she said with a beatific smile. “Someday.”

Olivia swept her gaze over the great house as they made for the front steps, taking in the welcoming patchwork of white and yellow stone, the tall, narrow windows, the decorative arch above the front door.

She smiled to herself. It was good to be back. The last time she was here, she was almost certain she would never see the place again. Oh, how things had changed since then.

Movement inside the house drew her gaze, and suddenly there was Griffin, standing in the door frame with Artemis in his arms, tall and handsome in buff breeches and a dark gray coat that set off his already striking eyes.

Her heart stuttered and she nearly stumbled on the steps.

Apparently, some things hadn’t changed.

“Lady Augusta,” Griffin said with a warm smile. “You are a vision, as always.”

“I am a fright,” she shot back, though there was no venom in her voice. “I’ve been cooped up in a carriage all day, but I appreciate the lie all the same.”

Chuckling softly, he moved away from the door to let the ladies into the entrance hall, and as Olivia moved past him, his gaze settled on hers.

“Olivia, welcome,” he said. “It is good to see you.” His eyes seemed to soften at the sight of her and her heart dipped.

Or was that only wishful thinking?

“And you,” she replied. “Thank you for having us.”