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It was entirely possible that she could share the same outcome as her mother. While Miles had soothed her fears with pleasure, it was still a major concern that she would perish on the birthing bed. Although Olivia wasn’t usually superstitious, she had to admit that fate was rather cruel, indeed, to cause her father to lose so many wives in such quick succession. From various ailments or tragedies that could never have been prevented, it was almost as if a curse had befallen her father’s line.
Would she be the next victim whose life was snuffed out?
Her cup rattled in her saucer and the duchess glanced at her. She didn’t dare look at Miles, as surely her eyes would give her away. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as she set her tea aside. “If you will forgive me, I fear it has been a long day.”
“Of course, my dear.” The duchess rose when Olivia did, as well as the duke—her future husband. She swallowed heavily. “I need be turning in shortly as well.” She turned to Miles. “You should too, Gravesend. If you are to travel to London tomorrow you need to be well rested for the journey.”
“Lady Olivia.” Now, she finally glanced up. “Shall I escort you to your rooms?”
She shook her head. “You’re very kind, but I am confident I shall manage fine on my own. Good night.”
Olivia was halfway up the stairs before she had to clutch the railing. Pausing and taking a deep breath, she resumed the climb, telling herself that everything would be fine.
It would all be just fine.
* * *
“Livy!”Olivia jumped at the sound of Calliope’s exuberant voice. But then, after a fitful night, she had arisen the next morning to her maid telling her that the duke had departed early and likely wouldn’t return until New Year’s Eve—the day before her wedding. Thus, she had ordered a breakfast tray to be sent to her room, but it had gone virtually untouched.
She shook off her reservations and offered a falsely bright smile as she turned from the dressing table in her chamber to acknowledge her red-headed sister who had barged in with nary a knock to herald her entrance. Callie had never been much of a morning person, but there were times when she made an exception, especially when it came to gossip.
“Is it true that the Duchess of Gravesend ishere?” Her voice steadily got quieter until it was a whisper, as if she was afraid that the lady herself would overhear. The maid departed and shut the door behind her, as if she was grateful she was spared the conversation to come. Olivia rather wished she could do the same. While she didn’t have an issue with the duchess, the thought that she would soon be referring to her as her mother-in-law was a bit daunting.
“Yes,” Olivia concurred. “She arrived late last night. I think you had already turned in for the evening.”
“You should have woken me!” Calliope admonished. “I met the lady at the Gravesend Christmas Eve Ball. I daresay she was quite a lovely hostess.” Her green eyes practically glowed with excitement. “I hope you know how lucky you are! When you marry a man, you marry his entire family. You have to contend with their presence at every holiday and event. Not only is the duke rather attractive and appears to be entirely attentive to you, but his mother is an absolutely delightful woman!”
Olivia couldn’t do much more than nod, followed by a brief acknowledgement.
Calliope, of course, couldn’t let that stand. She crossed her arms and allowed her forehead to furrow in disappointment. “Then why is it you look as if you are going to the gallows, rather than the altar? I was under the impression you had accepted his hand and—”
“I did. Ihave,” Olivia corrected herself. She got up with a frustrated sigh and walked over to the window. She crossed her arms and stared out at the wintry landscape; her pensive frown reflected in the glass pane.
There was a brief pause, and then Calliope said gently, “What’s wrong, Livy?”
She lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of her nose. A headache was already starting to form, and she hadn’t even started the day. “I honestly don’t know, except that things are moving so…fast. I just accepted the duke’s proposal last night, under continued reservations, and this morning he is on his way to London to procure a special license for us to wed on New Year’s Day. That’sthreedays from now! A rather hasty engagement, but the duchess seems to think that time is of the essence.” She rubbed her temples now, and although she knew she was babbling, she couldn’t stop the words from flowing. “And then there’s the issue if he chooses to go by the Marlington title or continue with the Gravesend one. Of course, the Marlington line is one of the oldest titles in England, but I fear that if he chooses that, then the fate that befell my mother, and yours, and Minty’s, and Isa’s will continue that same path, and—”
Calliope snorted at this. “Don’t say you actually believe we’recursed?”
Olivia spun on her and threw out her arms. “I don’t know what to believe. Ornotto believe.” She sank down on the window seat with a defeated exhale. Her voice was barely audible when she continued, “I’m so confused. My emotions have never been this jumbled before.”
Her sister walked over and sat down beside her. She laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “This is what I think some women refer to as bridal nerves.” She lifted a copper brow. “Did Minty ever talk to you about what occurs in the marriage bed?”
Olivia was quite sure her face turned scarlet. “Yes, but as I’ve already confessed to you, I don’t believe the duke will have any issues putting me at ease in that regard.”
Calliope smiled broadly. “That’s certainly a good sign.”
“I never thought attraction would be the problem,” Olivia returned.
“Yes, I know. It’s this which is the main concern.” She tapped Olivia’s temple. “You worry entirely too much, Livy, instead of just taking things in stride.”
She offered Calliope a wry smile. “If only I could be more like you. Nothing seems to upset you.”
Calliope laughed. “If only I were so lucky! I daresay there is one man in London who drives me to distraction.”
Olivia was grateful to focus on something other than her upcoming nuptials. “Oh? Would that someone be the earl’s friend, Viscount Blakely?”
She waved a dismissive hand and turned her face away with a roll of her eyes, but Olivia didn’t miss the blush that graced her face. That was certainly interesting, for Calliope seldom lost her composure. “That cretin is so far from my mind that I vow I will not think of him at all through the new year.”
