This Marquess of Mine: (Romancing the Rogue Book 2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Olivia’s father was true to his word. He took her with him to Blakely Manor the very next day and, over the following month, during rides through the countryside and walks in the garden, father and daughter closed the distance between them one conversation at a time.

Olivia enjoyed their time together immensely, learning who he was, his thoughts and opinions, his likes and dislikes, and which ones they shared.

They both preferred coffee over tea, neither was a great reader, and they each fostered a fondness for music, though he preferred Mozart to Beethoven, which had sparked many a good-natured debate between them.

Surprisingly, she’d even enjoyed reacquainting herself with the house. Blakely Manor was only her home for a handful of years when she was very small, but she remembered her time here well enough to know it had been lonely, and she’d wondered if those feelings would surface again. Fortunately, they hadn’t and her stay at Blakely Manor proved as comfortable and easy as any visit to the country ought to be.

Now, sitting on the sofa in the morning room one early September day, her stay was nearly at an end, and she was sorry to have to leave. The feeling was still something of a shock to her, that she should miss her father. She’d never missed him before, only the idea of him, the idea of what could be. It was astounding how much a person’s life could change in just a few short weeks.

“Oh, Lady Augusta, they’re beautiful. Aren’t they beautiful, Olivia?” Caroline asked, her brown eyes bright with happiness as she held aloft a tiny pair of pale green booties.

Olivia leaned across the chintz sofa they were sharing and stroked the soft wool with her fingers. “They’re the sweetest things I’ve ever seen,” she said, smiling at her stepmother.

“I’m so glad you like them, Caroline,” Aunt Augusta said from her seat on the giltwood armchair opposite the sofa. “My cousin Mary is quite skilled with knitting needles. I am certain she would be thrilled to knit for you anything you might need for the babe.”

It was late afternoon, and the three ladies were gathered in the morning room, catching up over tea and cucumber sandwiches. Aunt Augusta had just arrived at Blakely Manor after a month-long visit to Bath, where she’d stayed with her cousin Mary.

She intended to spend a day or two here at the manor, and then she and Olivia would head to Keswick House, where they would reunite with Sophie before she and her new husband retired to their own estate in Devonshire. Olivia couldn’t wait to see her cousin again.

“I still can’t quite believe I am to be a mother soon,” Caroline said, shaking her dark head in wonder. “I didn’t think I would ever have a family of my own. Until I met your father.” She flashed Olivia a teary smile, pressing her palm to her swollen belly.

“I am so happy for you,” Olivia said, reaching out and giving her stepmother’s forearm a gentle squeeze. “You will be a wonderful mother, Caroline.”

And she meant it. There was no one sweeter or kinder than her stepmother, and she’d enjoyed getting to know her better these past few weeks.

Caroline was at least a decade older than Olivia and had married Lord Blakely later in life than was common for women. Some might call her plain upon first glance, but she had a lovely smile and the kindest eyes Olivia had ever seen. Her child would be lucky, indeed.

“Thank you,” Caroline said, tears misting her eyes. “And you will be a wonderful older sister.”

Olivia grinned. “I cannot wait to be a sister.”

“And”—Aunt Augusta’s crisp voice cut through the soppiness—“as I am already a wonderful great-aunt, this child is destined to be spoiled beyond redemption.”

They all laughed, though Olivia suspected her aunt was probably right. She couldn’t wait to start spoiling. All the trepidation she’d felt over this baby’s impending arrival had vanished. No longer did she feel jealous or worried. She felt only happiness now, for Caroline, for her father. And for herself, too.

After all, she would have a sibling soon. She would be someone’s sister. How could she feel anything but happiness over that?

“I’ve missed you, Aunt,” Olivia said with an affectionate smile. “It is good to see you again.”

“I have missed you, too, child,” her aunt replied. “How have you been these last few weeks? How are you faring with your father?”

“Very well, I think. He’s been very kind to me, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know him better. He is funnier than I expected, and quite easy to talk to.”

Truth be told, this visit had gone even better than she’d hoped, and she still couldn’t quite believe it had happened.

“They’ve spent a great deal of time together,” Caroline interjected, beaming at Aunt Augusta. “Like two peas in a pod, they are.”

“Well, I am very glad to hear that,” her aunt said briskly.

“I still don’t understand what brought on his sudden change of heart, though,” Olivia said with a little shake of her head. “Every time I ask him, all he’ll say is he finally saw the error of his ways, but he won’t say how or why.”

“I know why,” Aunt Augusta said, leaning back in her chair. “It was because of Keswick.”

“Lady Augusta!” Caroline cried. “We promised not to tell.”

Olivia’s aunt gave an unrepentant shrug. “You promised. I did not.”

“What do you mean, it was because of Keswick?” Olivia asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What does Griffin have to do with this?”

Aunt Augusta met her gaze. “It was right after you agreed to marry the duke,” she said. “Keswick rode all the way out here to speak with your father. To convince him not to make you go through with it.”

Olivia blinked, surprise parting her lips as a thousand questions streaked through her mind. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly. “Why would he do that? What did he say?”

Her aunt shook her head. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. I only heard of the visit from his mother.”

Olivia looked at Caroline. “Do you know?”

Her stepmother’s gaze fell to the booties in her lap, her lips pinched at the corners, signaling an internal debate.

“Please tell me, Caroline,” Olivia said softly and, finally, with a heavy sigh, Caroline caved.

“It was quite late in the afternoon when he arrived,” she said. “Your father and I were, of course, mystified by this unexpected visit, but we could hardly turn a marquess away without good reason, so we agreed to meet with him.”

She leaned back against the sofa cushion and draped her hands across the swell of her belly. “He was not at all as I remembered,” she continued. “He was quite windblown and sweaty, and he smelled of horse. Not at all the elegant marquess I had seen in the past.”

“He obviously rode his horse hard that day,” Aunt Augusta said. “He must have been in a great hurry to get here.”

Caroline nodded. “That was certainly the impression he gave.”

Olivia leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, not even bothering to hide her interest. “And? What did he say when you greeted him?”

“Well, your father said what a surprise it was to see him,” Caroline said. “Lord Keswick apologized for the intrusion and then he said ‘I’ve come to discuss your daughter with you.’ Well!” Caroline’s hands flew up. “You can imagine how surprised we were to hear those words. I thought he’d come to ask for your hand in marriage, especially after all those lovely things he said about you, but—”

“What lovely things?” Olivia asked, her tone too sharp, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She wanted to know everything, etiquette be damned.

“He said you were sweet and clever and beautiful”—Caroline’s head bobbed with every attribute—“and then he said you deserved a better father than the one you were given.”

Olivia’s mouth fell open. “He said that? To Father’s face?”

Caroline nodded. “He did.”

“And he was right.”

Lord Blakely’s voice drew everyone’s gaze to the door and Olivia watched in silence as her father walked into the room and claimed the chair beside Aunt Augusta’s.

“Of course, I didn’t want to hear it,” he continued, his smile wry beneath the fringe of his mustache. “Especially not from a man I barely knew. I was rather brusque with him, I’m afraid. But then, after he left, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said, and eventually I came to realize he was right.”

Olivia had no idea what to say. What on earth had possessed Griffin to do such a thing?

And why did he not want her to know he’d done it?

None of this made any sense.

“I owe him a great debt,” Lord Blakely said with a smile. “If it weren’t for his visit, my daughter would be married to a duke. And I still wouldn’t know what a remarkable young woman she is.”

Olivia returned his smile. “Thank you, Father.”

The conversation turned to other topics, but Olivia listened with only half an ear, her mind otherwise occupied.

Why had Griffin done it? What had compelled him to speak with her father? She was well aware of his less-than-complimentary opinion of Paxton, but marrying the duke would hardly have meant a life of abject misery. She would have been fine. She would have been more than fine. For pity’s sake, she would have been a duchess.

So why had he interfered?

He cared for her, she knew. She was one of his sister’s closest friends and he’d known her since she was a little girl. He probably would have done the same for Sophie, if she’d been in Olivia’s place.

Was that all it had been, then? The act of a concerned family friend?

Of course that’s all it was, she admonished. What else would it be?

His actions were honorable and admirable, but ultimately had been nothing more than a favor for a friend, which probably explained why he’d wanted to keep it from her. He was afraid she would make more of it than it was.

Drawing in a deep breath of air, she willed her racing heart to slow. It had been an act of kindness, nothing more, and she would do well to remind herself of that frequently before she saw him again.

And probably afterward, too.