and opened the door. As much as he wanted to, Gabriel knew he could not sleep for long. He had much to do. If he left her bed two hours from now, he might disturb her sleep. Or worse yet, sleeping next to Olivia might cause him to oversleep. He shook his head and kissed her cheek. ‘I will only disturb you when I rise.’
Was that disappointment he saw cross her face? In the dim light it was difficult to tell.
‘Very well, but I will be awake before seven for my portrait session.’
Muscles that had been wonderfully relaxed suddenly tightened up. He was just about to ask her why she was torturing him, when she placed a finger to his lips.
‘I assure you. No one will know I sat for it when it is exhibited. There is even the slight chance Mr West will not agree to include it.’
One could only hope.
They entered her room and he closed the door behind them. ‘Does Colette know she is to tell no one of your association with the painting?’
‘Of course.’
He should forbid her from continuing to sit for the artist, but it was clearly something that brought her joy. How could he cause her any more sorrow?
He tasted her lips one last time before pulling away and striding to the door to his bedchamber. As he placed his hand on the cool metal of the handle, he had the strongest urge to have one last look at her. She had not moved from where he had left her. ‘I may allow for these sittings, Livy, but I do not have to like it.’
* * *
When the door closed, Olivia’s slippers and clothes fell from her hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to erase the memory of him standing near her bed without his shirt. His scent was on the shirt he’d placed on her, and she rubbed her arms over the soft linen. Instead of tearing it off, she decided it would be comfortable to sleep in.
She lit one of the candles flanking the mirror on her dressing table and peered at her reflection. She looked like a woman who’d spent the night rolling around in bed with her lover—only they had not used a bed—and those memories would not be easy to forget.
Closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead didn’t help. Breathing deeply made no difference either. Every nerve in her body was tingling because she couldn’t stop thinking about having Gabriel deep inside of her. She groaned and lowered her head to her arms.
Going back to a celibate life after they conceived another child was supposed to be the easy part. Now Olivia wasn’t sure that would be true. Her body felt alive again. Making love to him made her feel desirable. It made her feel powerful. It was addictive—or perhaps that was Gabriel.
Janvier had kissed her. Olivia knew if she showed the least bit of encouragement he would take her to his bed—or in his carriage. She did not believe he would be very particular.
But she felt nothing from his kiss; no spark of passion, no desire to straddle him and no fierce need to have him all to herself. Those feelings were reserved for her husband.
Gabriel had said some lovely things to her tonight. He’d even apologised for his behaviour—an act that was unprecedented. Why was he being so nice?
Olivia grabbed her hairbrush and pulled it through her hair with forceful strokes, attempting to rattle her brain enough that she would stop considering his feelings about her. She was a grown woman who understood how the world worked. It was rare to have a marriage based on love. There were only a few marriages she knew of that were. While it might be painful to witness the looks those men gave their wives, long ago she’d accepted her husband would never look at her that way. She had been dealt a different hand in life and now she accepted that.
She was giving herself a headache, not to mention her eyes were having trouble staying open. Blowing out the candles, she crawled under the blankets and arranged all the pillows snugly around her. Their weight and warmth made her feel secure. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she really would manage to wake before seven o’clock.
It felt as if she had been asleep for only five minutes when Olivia heard Colette humming. Placing one of her many pillows over her head to muffle the noise, Olivia rolled onto her stomach. There was definite activity in her dressing room with the splashing sound of water being poured into her tub. She would never fall back to sleep now. Tossing the pillow aside, she opened her eyes.
She spied Colette shaking out the dress that she had worn last night and then retreat into her dressing room. Peering over the edge of her bed, she scanned the floor and saw no other evidence of how she had spent the evening.
Her maid re-entered the bedchamber and stopped when she saw Olivia was awake.
‘Why are you humming?’
Bobbing a respectful curtsy, Colette had no luck suppressing her smile. ‘Please forgive me if I woke you. It’s a lovely morning.’
Olivia thought it would be better if she were able to sleep longer. ‘What is the commotion in my dressing room?’
‘His Grace ordered a bath to be ready for you at seven. He said you were not to be disturbed until then.’
Olivia rubbed her brow and stood, allowing Colette to help her into her dressing gown. ‘What about Nicholas? Surely he did not bar Nicholas from entering my room.’
‘I do not believe so. However, His Grace did have breakfast with his lordship in the nursery already. Perhaps that is why he did not wake you today.’
‘The Duke ate in the nursery?’
‘Yes, madam.’
Her world was becoming a very strange place. First her husband appeared to have suddenly grown attracted to her again and now he was eating breakfast with their son.
The heat from the bath water was a balm for the areas of her body that were a bit tender after the vigorous activities of last night. She was not going to think about the thoughtful gesture on Gabriel’s part. She was not going to reminisce about the times after rather spirited nights of love making, when Gabriel had ordered a bath drawn for her in the morning. And she absolutely was not about to consider why he’d left William Cowper’s translation of the Iliad on the table next to her bath.
* * *
Gabriel was in excellent spirits as he made his way to see Prinny at Carlton House. Although he checked on Nicholas each morning, today he’d decided to have breakfast with him. Spending time with his son in the nursery brought back fond memories of when his own father had sat in that very room playing with Gabriel and his three brothers.
Perhaps his house might once again be the very noisy place it had been when Gabriel was a child. The image of playing blind man’s bluff with Olivia in her picture gallery with four or five children dashing about made him smile. There was no reason they needed to stop at two children.
His carriage rocked to a stop under the porte-cochêre of Carlton House and he looked out at the immense Corinthian columns. He needed to shake her from his mind long enough to focus on his duty to protect Prinny. But as he made his way down the hall to Prinny’s private apartment, Gabriel couldn’t help wondering if Olivia
