Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,32
bit of a nap.”
“Yes, but you’re enceinte,” Olivia said with a smile, “and I am not, so I still have the energy to do some work before dinner. Indeed, I’m eager to get started.”
For no reason Thorn could fathom, he flashed upon a scene of domestic bliss, with Olivia, not Beatrice, at the center. She’d make a fine wife and mother. Surely she’d also be relieved not to have to worry any longer about her chemistry pursuits.
Chemistry was my primary interest then, and it’s my primary interest now.
Then again, he might be wrong about that.
He scowled. It didn’t matter how she felt about her unusual pastime or whether she’d make a good wife and mother. She would not be wife to him. Once he decided to settle down, he wanted a woman he could trust, a woman without secrets. A woman who was prepared to be a duchess in every way, who put nothing else above that.
The way he put his dukedom above everything else? He groaned. He did his duty by his tenants, and he tried to be a good steward of the land, as his stepfather had taught him before dying unexpectedly. He’d even found taking his seat in Parliament more entertaining than he’d expected, though he didn’t crave power the way others in the House of Lords did.
But he took no pleasure in London society and its constant gossip. Granted, at first he’d enjoyed having women fall into curtsies and men eye him with envy every time he entered a ballroom. But he’d soon discovered it was lonely being of such lofty rank. How much lonelier would it be if his wife enjoyed and thrived on her rank when he did not?
At least Olivia had a purpose in life. He had none beyond writing entertaining plays, looking after his properties, and counting the days until death.
God, she was making him maudlin.
“Very well, Olivia,” Grey said. “I’ll have a footman accompany you to the old dairy, and help you with unpacking and setting out everything.”
“If you can spare a footman,” Olivia said, “that would be wonderful.”
“There’s no reason for that,” Thorn said. “I’m perfectly happy to show you to the dairy and help you with your unpacking. I need to get my blood moving again, anyway, after sitting so long in this carriage. Besides which, I’m curious to see this laboratory unfold.”
If she’d insisted on a separate building for her laboratory to keep suspicious people at bay, she was in for a surprise. He meant to shadow her today and every other day.
“Now I feel positively decadent,” Beatrice said. “I’ll be lolling about while the rest of you do things.”
“Feel free to loll about as much as you wish, sweetheart,” Grey said. “You have good reason.” He raised an eyebrow at Thorn. “Unlike my brother, who means to blunder in where he doesn’t belong.”
“Because one of your footmen knows so much more than I about unpacking chemicals and laboratory equipment?”
Grey’s lips thinned.
“There’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Your Grace,” Olivia bit out. “Surely you’d also like to have some tea and settle into your room.”
Olivia’s wary expression raised his suspicions even more.
“Nonsense,” Thorn said. “I’d enjoy keeping you company.” He looked at Grey. “As for tea, I’m certain my brother would be happy to send some over to us.”
“We’ll have it done at once,” Beatrice said hastily, clearly bent on continuing her matchmaking. “And I trust you’ll be able to tell us if Olivia’s laboratory meets all her needs. I fear she’s too polite to admit the truth.”
Never was there a less likely description of Olivia’s character. Even if he’d been convinced she was as innocent of scheming as she pretended, she was too blunt and frank not to give her benefactors a thorough assessment of the laboratory they’d bought for her. He couldn’t wait to hear her list all the ways in which it was inadequate. Perhaps then they wouldn’t be so hasty to champion her.
Right. Because Grey and Beatrice just hated blunt and frank speech.
Thorn sighed. They’d probably make her an honorary member of the family for it. Well, he refused to let her charm him again until he figured out what she was up to. And whose side she was on.
“We’re here!” Beatrice said cheerily.
He looked out to find that they were indeed heading up the long drive to the front of the majestic house, a residence as big and stately as Rosethorn, his own family seat in Berkshire.