Page 97 of This Marquess of Mine

“Oh, you are such a sweetheart,” Sophie cooed the following afternoon in the gray salon as she bounced Artemis on her knee. She turned to the large, serious man sitting beside her on the sofa, and gave him an expectant smile. “Isn’t she a sweetheart, husband?”

“Absolutely adorable,” James agreed with a smile for his wife that could only be described as smitten.

Olivia watched their interplay from her seat on an armchair opposite the sofa, hiding her own smile behind the rim of her sherry glass, as twin jolts of envy and joy shot through her. The love Sophie shared with her husband was there for all to see, and she was thrilled for her cousin—of course she was—but she couldn’t help being a little envious too.

“I can’t believe how much Artemis has grown since I saw her last,” Olivia said, shoving aside the pesky pang of longing. “Only a month ago, she could fit in the palm of my hand.”

Sophie scratched her fingernails down Artemis’s spine and the kitten arched into her touch, purring loudly. It was just the four of them gathered around the sofa table. Aunt Augusta sat in the farthest corner of the room, playing chess with Lady Keswick, and Emmy and Griffin were nowhere to be seen.

“Emmy told me Griffin found her on the street,” Sophie said. “Is that true?”

Olivia gave her a small, uncomfortable smile. “That is…what he told us.”

“How kind of him to give the poor little thing a home.”

“Yes. Immensely kind.” But she was thinking of Mrs. Morris, Griffin’s former mistress, the beautiful widow who didn’t like cats. Had he renewed his arrangement with the lady, or did he have a new lover now, one even more beautiful than the last?

Jealousy shot through her, and she wondered yet again if he ever thought of her, of that night they spent together, in his study, in each other’s arms.

She drained the last of her sherry, frustrated with the path her thoughts had taken. He’d been a distraction all day, his behavior conflicting, confusing, as he avoided her like an illness and yet, every time she looked at him, he seemed to be watching her.

Dratted man. He wasn’t even in the room and, still, he was on her mind.

“Olivia?”

Lady Keswick’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she looked across the room at the marchioness. “Yes, my lady?”

“Be a dear and fetch Emmy for me, would you? I believe she is in the family library.”

Olivia smiled, pleased by the unexpected errand. She could do with a distraction.

“Of course, Lady Keswick,” she said, setting her glass on the sofa table before rising to her feet and quitting the room.

Walking up the corridor with measured steps, she took in the familiar pattern of the Turkish rug beneath her feet, the watercolors and pencil sketches lining the walls, and she smiled to herself. She adored this house. It was like a second home to her, had been ever since she was a little girl, and it had seen her through many seasons of her life.

She hoped it always would.

After she’d made her way up the single flight of stairs and down one more corridor, she reached the family library. The door was slightly ajar, so she knocked softly before nudging it open with her knuckles and walking through.

Her steps faltered just inside the door as her gaze fell on Griffin standing across the room before the hearth, his hands clasped at his front, as if he’d been expecting her.

“Griffin. I wasn’t…” She cast her gaze over the room, looking for Emmy. “Is your sister in here with you? I was asked to—”

She turned at the sound of the door clicking shut behind her, and her brows dipped in confusion. “Is something amiss?” She turned to face Griffin again. “Your mother sent me here to look for Emmy.”

His smile was rueful. “A ruse, I’m afraid.”

“A ruse? For what—” Her eyes caught on something dangling from the hearth above his head, something green and leafy, held together with a strip of bright red ribbon. “What is that?”

“A mistletoe ball, of course.”

She looked at him, her heart beginning to thump in her chest. “It’s September,” she said faintly. “And that isn’t mistletoe.”

“I know it isn’t. But it was the best I could do.”

The best he could do? The best he could do for what?

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “What is this, Griffin?”