Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,75
Thornstock. He was a duke, for one thing. For another, he’d been caught kissing you, so he clearly liked you.” Her voice hardened. “But back then he wasn’t who he is today—a roué and a rogue.”
“Don’t speak ill of him to me,” Olivia said firmly. “I want to marry him, and he wants to marry me. So you will just have to accept it, Mama. I’m old enough that I don’t need your permission.” She softened her voice. “But I should like to have your blessing, all the same.”
Her stepmother dropped onto the settee with a heavy sigh. “I want to do right by you, dear heart. But sometimes I don’t know what that is.”
“Sometimes I don’t know what that is.” Olivia sat down beside her to take her hand. “But I appreciate your efforts, and I know you have my best interests in mind.”
“When I married your father, he made it quite clear he was marrying me for two reasons only: to give him an heir and you a mother. I failed at the first, but I have tried very hard at the second. I wanted to be a good mother to you.”
“And you have been, Mama. Truly.”
Mama clasped her hand tightly. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, you know.” Tears welled in her eyes. “You were such a little waif at eight years old, still grieving the loss of your real mother, and you needed me so much. But now . . .”
“Now I need you even more. There’s a wedding to plan and this house to set to rights.” Privately, Olivia thought the house didn’t really need anything, but Mama was always looking for things to change in their own house, so she would probably have suggestions for Olivia’s house, too.
It dawned on Olivia that she was to have her own household: a place that was hers to run as she saw fit. Granted, Thorn had a housekeeper and a butler and probably a million other servants doing this and that. But someone at the top had to be in charge and tell them what to do. That person would be her. What a heady thought!
There were clearly some advantages to marriage she hadn’t considered. I want to marry you out of a thoroughly ignoble impulse to have you in my bed whenever I wish.
Her cheeks flamed. That was another advantage—sharing Thorn’s bed.
“You’re blushing,” her stepmother said.
“It’s rather warm in here, don’t you think?” Olivia said, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
Her stepmother’s gaze narrowed on her. “You’re blushing over him.”
“What’s wrong with that? Shouldn’t I find my future husband attractive?”
Mama sighed. “Of course you should. It just means you’re more enamored of him than I realized.” She stared down at her hands. “I suppose he was the one to tell you about the blackmail?”
“He was. He wanted to explain why he was so angry when I refused his offer the first time.” Olivia gazed across the room and through the window, where she could see Thorn and Gwyn walking in the garden, and the tightness in her chest grew painful. The blackmail was a sore subject for her. “Did you really assume I was so incapable of attracting a husband that you had to blackmail one into offering for me?”
“No, indeed, dear heart! Is that what you thought?”
“I thought you wished to get rid of your ungainly chemist of a stepdaughter before you were saddled with her for all your days.” A bitterness several years in the making crept into her tone. “You must have been very disappointed in me when I turned him down after you’d gone to all that trouble to secure him.”
“No, indeed. There is naught you could do to disappoint me, dear heart.” Mama patted her hand. “And I never meant for you to know about my bargain with him. I assure you I was simply trying to do my best by you. It was certainly never about getting rid of you. Why do you think I’m here? To save you from a bad marriage.”
“I don’t need saving this time. Or rather, I can save myself if I must.” She smiled at her stepmother. “So do I have your blessing?”
Mama stared earnestly at her. “Do you love him?”
The question caught her off guard, probably because she’d avoided thinking about it once he’d voiced his cynicism about love and happiness in a marriage. So she told the truth. “I don’t know. If I let myself love him, I