Who Wants to Marry a Duke - Sabrina Jeffries Page 0,76
fear he’ll break my heart in the end.”
Saying it out loud made it feel even more possible.
Her stepmother nodded. “I understand your fear, though marriage was different for me. I knew, when I married your father, that it wasn’t a love match, and I accepted that. I hadn’t had any other offers of marriage, you see, so I took my chances.” She chucked Olivia under the chin. “I don’t regret it one bit, because I’ve had you to make me happy, you to love. And though I may not understand your passion for chemistry, I do finally accept your need to do it. Why, you have the great Duke of Greycourt relying on your knowledge! That’s more than most male chemists have. I’m very proud of you.”
“Oh, Mama,” she whispered, and hugged her hard, tears filling her eyes. “That means a lot to me.” More than her stepmother could possibly know.
Mama drew back to stare at her with concern. “But, my dearest, just be sure of what you want. You know his reputation.”
“I do. But I also know he came by some of it unfairly.” Still, the conversation she’d had with him about hobbies was a little disconcerting, especially since she was almost certain he’d been holding back something about his. But she wasn’t about to tell her stepmother about that.
“Well then, if you love him, do it with your whole heart. I daresay it’s better to risk rejection than to spend the rest of your life as you have the past nine years, not loving anyone at all. He seems to truly wish to marry you this time. And if you want him”—she let out a heavy breath—“then you have my blessing.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Olivia rose from the settee, but her stepmother grabbed her hand before she could move away. “With one caveat. If you have any concern, any reason you have changed your mind about him, just tell me and your father and I will stand by you, no matter what.”
“You mean, even if it requires watching me jilt the same duke twice?”
Her stepmother laughed. “Even then. But let’s hope you don’t have to.”
“Let’s hope not.”
Because she wasn’t certain she could survive that again.
Thorn paced the hall outside the drawing room, waiting for Olivia and Lady Norley to finish their conversation. Olivia’s stepmother had better not talk her out of marrying him. If the baroness meddled with him and Olivia a second time, he would . . . would . . .
What would he do? What could he do? He held Olivia by the merest thread, and nearly anything might make that thread snap.
“It’s odd to see you so flustered over a woman,” Gwyn said as she sat coolly on a hall chair. “Or perhaps in love for a change?”
“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally. Although he wasn’t about to tell his sister, he knew better than to fall in love. That way lay madness.
Olivia’s words last night leapt into his mind: I wager you’re just using that as an excuse for why you continue as a carefree bachelor.
Not in the least. He was using it as an excuse for why he stayed sane.
Or he tried to, anyway. The fact that he found the possibility of losing her to be alarming wasn’t a good sign. He told himself he was only worried about her safety, about the possibility that the arse who’d blown up her laboratory might show up here and try to harm her.
But the truth was, he didn’t want her to leave with her stepmother. In the course of telling Gwyn about his offer of marriage, he’d grown used to the words “engaged” and “betrothed.” And especially the word “wife.” Mad as it might be, he rather liked the idea of having Olivia as his wife.
The drawing room door opened to reveal Lady Norley with her arm around Olivia’s shoulders.
Thorn walked in, his heart hammering oddly in his chest. “Well? Will I be making a trip to London to meet with the baron or not?”
“You will,” Olivia said, rather smugly.
Thank God. “In that case, Lady Norley, would you be so kind as to join us for dinner this evening? Gwyn and I would also be happy to have you—and Miss Norley, of course—as our guests for the night, assuming you’ve brought sufficient clothes for that.”
“I’d be delighted to stay.” Lady Norley patted Olivia’s shoulder. “I’ve missed having my dear girl around for the past several days.”
He nodded to Gwyn, who hurried off to consult with his cook about that