other one. ‘Not once did the word “child” leave your lips.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘You want another one?’
Olivia was too emotionally spent to say another word, so she simply nodded and closed her eyes.
‘You are certain?’
Again she nodded and this time she met his shadowed gaze.
He tossed his head back and closed his eyes. She waited. Any dealings they had with one another from now on hinged on this very moment. Her palms began to sweat.
‘Slide over,’ he commanded softly.
She shifted towards the centre of the bed and closed her eyes when he began undressing. Was he as smooth and muscular as he had been years ago? Opening one eye, she peeked. He stood there shirtless, tugging off his trousers. She closed her eye quickly before he caught her. Blast it! He looked as good as he had the day she’d married him.
The bed dipped next to her and she felt a tug on the ribbon at the neckline of her nightrail. ‘You have too many clothes on.’
She swatted his hand away. ‘We can do it like this. I’ll just raise my hem.’
He steadied her hand as she began to move the fabric up her legs. ‘Is that what you were planning to do? Lay here with your eyes closed and lift your voluminous skirt for me?’
‘I won’t complain. Just do what needs to be done.’
Gabriel’s body jerked back as if she slapped him and he combed his hand through his hair, making the ends stand up in all directions. ‘Bloody hell, Olivia, what kind of man do you think I am?’
‘Oh, I know very well what kind of man you are,’ she spat.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I know you are only interested in your own needs.’
He glared down at her. ‘Like hell I am. And how am I to attend to your needs, when you are trussed up like a Christmas goose? It’s a wonder you aren’t suffocating.’
‘I’ll have you know this fabric is the finest French linen,’ she said through her teeth.
‘Then you should have had three gowns made from it instead of one.’
She hit him with another pillow. This time he threw it on the floor.
‘Just take me!’ she shouted, surprising herself, as well as Gabriel.
They didn’t move. They simply stared at one another as their chests rose and fell in unison. The only sound was the occasional pop from the logs in the fireplace.
Abruptly he jumped out of bed and began tugging on his trousers. ‘I cannot do this,’ he repeated.
‘Wait! Where are you going?’ she asked, rising to her knees, stunned by his rejection.
He jerked his shirt over his head and began gathering the rest of his discarded clothing. When he had them all in his arms, he stalked over to the bed. ‘Regardless of what you think, Duchess, this is not going to work,’ he ground out.
‘All the world thinks you are a man of honour, but it’s a lie. You only ever think of yourself.’
Gabriel gathered up his boots and stormed to the door leading to his room. When his hand clutched the handle, he paused. ‘You are lucky you are not a man,’ he said through his teeth before he slammed the door behind him.
A pillow, book and hairbrush hit the door in rapid succession. Just when she thought she was finished crying over him, Gabriel pushed her to the emotional edge—again. The tears were falling and she couldn’t make them stop. She would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry, so she pressed her lips firmly together as her body lurched with her silent sobs.
He didn’t want her. He couldn’t even bring himself to bed her to get a spare. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she hold the attention of the one man who had once meant the world to her?
Olivia still wanted that child, now more than ever, but now she would never conceive one.
She hated him for that!
She hated him for what he had done to her five years ago!
And she hated him for reducing her to tears by taking away her only chance at experiencing unconditional love again.
The next morning before the sun had even begun to rise Gabriel rode his horse around the Serpentine as if the demons of hell were chasing him. He continued to circle the lake in Hyde Park, hoping the pounding of Homer’s hooves would knock his brain back together.
His wife had wanted him in her bed after five years, four months and eleven days. That alone should have been cause for celebration. The fact that she wanted another child with him should have made him the happiest of men. But at the moment, he wanted to drown her in the lake he rode around.
If she had been a man, she would have paid for the insults she threw at him as he left her room. Did she really think that little of him? Had she ever understood what kind of man he prided himself in being? His wife was as much a stranger to him as the girl who sold flowers at the entrance of the park.
The idea that she thought he would bed her by throwing up her nightrail and thrusting inside her, while she would have been in obvious discomfort or planning the week’s menus, was just too much to bear. Did she really believe he was such a beast? Oh, he knew she did not like him. She had made that very clear, but to think that poorly of him was infuriating. From the day he had entered his cradle, honour and duty were drilled into him. Whether she believed it or not, he was a man bound by honour. And that honour had cost him more than she knew.
Up ahead, three men on horseback cleared the trees. The sun had begun to paint the sky in pinks and yellows, and the rumble of his stomach told him a good breakfast might settle some of his anger. It was time to head home.
* * *
Gabriel was sitting in his breakfast room, tucking into his meal and reading The Times, when Bennett informed him the Earl of Hartwick was calling. Hopefully his friend was here to tell him something about the smell of the note belonging to the gunman. Glancing up, Gabriel followed Hart’s progress as he strolled into the room, his black frock coat fluttering behind him. If he had not handed over his coat to Bennett, Gabriel knew this wasn’t a social call.
Hart dropped into the chair next to him and tipped his head towards Bennett. The butler looked at Gabriel for approval before fetching a glass of his best brandy for the Earl. After taking a small sip, Hart ran his hand through his black hair, attempting to move a lock that had fallen over his bright blue eyes. ‘It’s a good thing you’re so predicable that I knew I’d find you here at this hour. I want you to know I had plans last night that I altered especially for you.’
Gabriel cut into his ham and studied Hart. ‘A bit early for brandy, wouldn’t you say?’
‘I’ve not gone to bed yet. Well, that is not exactly true...’
‘So
