pressed her hand against her stomach. What if Gabriel did not want another child? Or, suppose he no longer found her desirable enough to bed? She would never be able to face him again.
The answers she needed would not be found in the hall. She raised her chin, knowing she would regret it for the rest of her days if she didn’t ask him for this. Her courageous side rallied, her knock echoed off the oak panel.
The deep rumble of his voice was audible from within as he bid her to enter. Her heart began to pound and she glanced down, praying it wasn’t visible through the gauzy fichu tucked into her dress. She rubbed her sweaty palms down her skirt and turned the handle. Upon entering the impressive room, she spotted Mr James standing before Gabriel’s desk awaiting a document her husband was sealing. Once the paper was in his hand, Mr James turned to face her and bowed. He appeared nervous, but she found that whenever Mr James was in the same room with Olivia and Gabriel, he always seemed as if he couldn’t wait to leave.
‘Good day, Mr James,’ she said, smiling congenially.
He greeted her with a pleasant reply before excusing himself. The click when the door closed reverberated around Gabriel’s private sanctuary. There was no turning back.
For the first time in years, they were alone. Suddenly the generously sized room felt much too small and she was certain he could hear her uneven breathing from across the room.
They stood there staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then Gabriel moved out from behind his desk. Her heart hiccupped. He painted a handsome picture with his perfect posture and his fit frame impeccably encased in an expertly fitted Delft-blue tailcoat with a champagne-coloured embroidered waistcoat underneath. Buff trousers and highly polished top boots covered his muscular legs and his light brown hair looked slightly tousled, as if he had been running his hand through it as he worked at his desk.
At his suggestion, they took a seat in the two chairs placed in front of one of the long windows that overlooked the street. As he fixed an expectant gaze on her, she silently debated how to begin.
‘I suppose you’re wondering what it is I wish to discuss with you?’
He sat completely still, the picture of civility and physical perfection. ‘I have some idea.’
‘You do?’ she asked, unable to hide her surprise. Had his mother spoken to him as well? From his sober expression it did not appear he was going to be amiable to her request.
‘This is regarding last evening, is it not?’
Olivia’s heart was jumping in her chest. ‘It is. I have thought about this quite a bit and believe it is our duty.’
Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. ‘The duty lies with me. I will see to it. I expect it to be an exasperating task, but I agree it must be done.’
Did he really say making love to her would be exasperating?
‘I assure you, I will find absolutely no pleasure in the task,’ she replied drily.
‘That is why it’s best done quickly.’ At the clopping sound of horses riding by, Gabriel shifted his attention out the window. ‘It’s a logical request to make. I suppose it was inevitable.’
Inevitable and exasperating—this is how he described bedding her! It took enormous restraint not to rail at him. The point was to have another child. If she had to endure this insufferable man to do so, she needed to disguise her anger. She refused to let him see that his words had any effect on her. In that, she could be in complete control.
She stood rather abruptly, needing to get away before she did something rash—such as kick him in the only area of his that she needed.
‘The sooner we attend to this, the better. I will see to it this evening.’ He stood and walked her to the door, unaware how perilously close he was to having his head knocked into it.
* * *
The moment Olivia left his study Gabriel was able to breathe normally. Being close to her always left him restless, as if his body were fighting the knowledge that he was better off without her.
After pouring himself a glass of brandy, he returned to his desk and put his feet up. Their meeting had gone better than he’d anticipated. He knew only something of great importance would compel her to request an audience.
He considered various scenarios before recalling last night. It was no surprise she wanted to address it. He was impressed she thought they should do it together. However talking with Andrew about what was improper to say to Nicholas fell solely on his shoulders. He would be the one to explain to his brother that it was not appropriate for a boy of five to call his horse Casanova. Nicholas would be Winterbourne some day. He needed to begin learning now what it meant to embody the respectable title.
Yes, a talk with his brother was in order. It also gave him the opportunity to hear how the interrogation was progressing.
As the melodic sounds of the orchestra filled the crowded ballroom of Devonshire House, Olivia stepped through the movements of the quadrille without hearing a single note. Since her conversation with Gabriel, she wondered if she had made the right decision in approaching him about having another child. Oh, she still desperately wanted another child, but after his reaction to her request, she wasn’t certain she could bear to be in his company long enough to conceive one.
He had been horrid—and his comments continued to pierce her heart.
I expect it to be an exasperating task, but it must be done.
The sooner we attend to this, the better.
If she had any hope of having another child, she needed to lock away her contempt for him. Maybe then the thought of Gabriel touching her wouldn’t make her want to injure his manhood—permanently. She would never conceive a child if she did that.
‘I hope it is not my company that has caused that expression to darken your lovely face,’ commented Comte Antoine Janvier.
Pulling her attention back to her dance partner, Olivia smiled apologetically. ‘Of course not, I fear I am not very good company this evening.’
With a few final steps the quadrille ended.
‘Perhaps a glass of champagne shall lift your spirits,’ he said, escorting her off the crowded dance floor towards one of the many drawing rooms.
As they crossed the threshold, he took two glasses from a passing footman and handed one to Olivia. She took a long drink and he arched a dark brow.
‘Shall I fetch another, or would you care for mine?’ he asked, tilting his glass towards her.
The warmth of a blush rose up Olivia’s neck and she turned away. Her gaze settled on the portrait of the previous Duchess of Devonshire. ‘Forgive me,’ she said, returning her attention to her friend. ‘You are being very kind, considering I have not been an ideal companion.’
He gave a careless wave of his hand. ‘It would be tiresome if you were always plein de vie.’
Olivia grinned. ‘I wasn’t aware you thought
