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Once her maid was finished with her coiffure, she quietly let herself out of the room. Although the sun was shining merrily outside and Olivia was dressed in a cheery, lilac day dress, she continued to sit and stare at her reflection, as if she couldn’t quite seem to break the melancholy trance surrounding her.
But then, heartbreak had a way of doing that.
She was afraid that if she moved she might crack, the brittle exterior that she’d carefully tried to piece back in place, in danger of collapsing once more. It was no longer enough that she was back at Marlington Hall. While she would always adore this estate and all the wonderful memories she had shared with her father and her sisters, something told her that if Miles left right now and was somehow able to sign everything over to her, that she would lamenthisloss more than being grateful for this house. Because she realized that it wasn’t the limestone exterior that made this place a home. It was the people that had lived beneath its roof. It was only a shell that would someday fall in and collapse without love to fill its walls.
Therein lay the real issue.
She hadn’t thought much about how she truly felt toward Miles before Miss Stillwater’s arrival. She had merely told herself that they would be married and that was that. Granted, her body would remind her of all the sensual moments they had shared, and she knew that their marriage bed would never be cold so long as she could continue to keep her reservations about childbirth aside. She had nearly convinced herself that she might actuallyenjoybeing a wife.
It had all come crashing down because the foundation she had placed everything upon hadn’t been substantial enough to support those dreams. She had begun to imagine that Miles truly was different from the rest of the men of theton. After talking with his mother while he had been in London, she decided that he was a true gentleman, that he really did have her best intentions in mind the night he’d come to her rescue in the snow.
She had instantly forgiven his deceit, but after Miss Stillwater’s arrival and the shocking claim she’d made about being with child, Olivia started to wonder if she had been duped once again. Miles might have nearly given his life to save his sister all those years ago, but he was no longer a boy. He was a man grown with scars from the battlefield that might have hardened his heart beyond repair. He was charming and handsome and quite easily made her believe that he was simple, Mr. Stone, instead of her father’s heir, so who was to say this wasn’t just another aspect of his life that he’d tried to conceal from her?
She knew she was naïve, but she never thought she could be so foolish.
Once more, she had removed the pendant from around her neck, but this time instead of tossing it into the drawer to be forgotten, she held it in her palm and glanced at the winter scene. As much as she didn’t like the cold, she yearned to be surrounded by such calm serenity.
A knock at the door caused her to lay the miniature aside and clasp her hands in her lap. “Come in.”
Araminta walked inside. Her brunette hair was pulled up at the nape of her neck and her gray eyes were filled with compassion that nearly matched the silver lace on her gown. Olivia had always welcomed her presence before, but at the moment she was conflicted between leaning into her motherly embrace or standing firm on her own two feet. She chose the latter, for it had been far too long that she had allowed Minty to soothe her concerns and ease her fears. Olivia was a woman grown and she had to face whatever came her way. She wasn’t a child who needed to be coddled by her older sister any longer.
Minty walked over and touched the top of Olivia’s head and gave her hair a gentle pat. “How are you doing, dearest?”
“Perfectly well, thank you,” Olivia returned evenly. She extricated herself from the dressing table chair and faced her sister on a similar level. “Shall we go break our fast? I daresay I’m famished.” It was a lie, of course, but she wasn’t about to act as though she was destroyed, that her life was crumbling before her.
Her sister hesitated. “Are you sure you wish to do that? I can’t guarantee that Miss Stillwater….”
“I am a lady and know how to conduct myself properly,” Olivia hastened to assure her, perhaps too quickly if Minty’s assessing stare was any indication.
“And the duke?”
This was a subject a bit more difficult to brush off, but she forced a tight smile. “I am not sure where we stand at the moment. Although I’m rather confident when I say we are no longer betrothed.” Her lips curved upward bitterly. “It appears he is already affianced.”
“I don’t believe there is any truth to it,” Araminta said firmly.
“Whether it is or not, we shall deal with whatever issues—or scandals—
arise from it.” She lifted a brow. “Like strong, Bevelstroke women always do. We face any challenge that comes our way.”
Araminta smiled. “I have to say that you might just turn out to be the most independent of us all, Livy.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she returned dryly. “But it’s not for lack of instruction. I did have a rather fabulous sister that taught me everything that was truly important.” She reached out and clasped her hand in her own.
If she didn’t know better, she might have imagined that Araminta’s eyes were glittering with moisture as they walked out of the room together.
* * *
Miles was in his study,staring at the fire as it crackled in the hearth. Lord Somers was sitting across from him after a lull in the conversation, but it wasn’t as though they had really gotten anywhere as it was.
They had started the morning off strong by brainstorming about who might be out to ruin Miles’s good name, or profit from his current status, but he had been unable to come up with a single person, although not for lack of trying.
“What about the heir who might inherit after you?” Grey had suggested. “Perhaps he wants you gone sooner rather than later.”
“I doubt that,” Miles had drawled. “Andrew is many things, but the very idea of becoming a duke and running the Gravesend estate practically terrifies him. The one time I tried to speak to him about ledgers, I thought he might actually faint. Of course, when it comes to the Marlington line, if something happens to me, the title and grounds will revert to the Crown, as I was the last living male to take over, and even that is hardly enough to make it worth the effort.”
“Very well,” the earl had said. He snapped his fingers. “What about enemies from the battlefield?”
“Other than the French, you mean?” Miles had shrugged. “In case you forgot I was branded a war hero, the same as Wellington.”
