with the entertainments you attend since you are the Duchess of Winterbourne.’
‘Yes, there are advantages to the title.’ Being married to her husband was not one of them.
‘I notice you and His Grace rarely accept the same invitations.’
Their friendship was still new. If he wanted to know how wide the rift was between her and Gabriel, Olivia was certain any of the gossips in attendance would be happy to recount the tale of what had driven them apart. It was something she never discussed with anyone, except Victoria. ‘His Parliamentary affairs keep him busy into the evening. Oh, look, more champagne.’ Olivia didn’t wait for Janvier to procure her another glass. She took one off the tray of a passing footman and replaced it with her empty one.
A low chuckle escaped Janvier’s lips before he took a sip from his glass. ‘Not something you wish to discuss. I understand. Let us change the subject. Tell me, have you heard Mrs Siddons may return to the stage soon?’
‘I have.’
‘Do you suppose you will attend one of her performances?’
‘It would be a shame to leave my box at the theatre empty for such an anticipated return. I don’t suppose you are an admirer of hers?’ she asked with an amused smile.
‘What kind of man would I be if I were not?’
‘Would you care to join me on opening night?’
Janvier leaned forward, placing his lips close to her ear. ‘I would like nothing better.’
His warm breath fanned her neck and an uncomfortable shiver travelled down her spine. Pretending she had an itch, Olivia stepped back and scratched her left shoulder.
He studied her over the rim of his glass. ‘But the royal box would probably be occupied opening night. That would mean there would be such a crush. You would not mind?’
She gave a slight shrug. ‘A crush is no bother, if the entertainment is worthy.’
Janvier’s dark eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘Then I would be honoured to join you.’ He scanned the salmon-coloured room. ‘I am surprised your Regent is not here this evening.’
‘Georgiana told me the poor man is suffering from the gout again. If it is as severe as last time, it would not surprise me if he missed Mrs Siddons’s performances altogether.’
* * *
By the time she arrived home, Olivia was certain she had drunk enough champagne that she could endure Gabriel’s presence in order to have another child. He said he would come to her tonight. Now, she was ready for him.
After sending Colette away, she stretched out on her bed in an excessively large, white-linen nightrail. Her bare feet were cold on top of the blankets, but she reasoned it would be over quickly, and there would be no chance of Gabriel’s scent remaining on her sheets.
What was taking him so long? He was home. She’d heard his muffled voice along with that of Hodges through the door that connected their rooms over an hour ago. His strong knock made Olivia jump. Bringing her hands to her chest to steady the pounding of her heart, she called for him to enter.
The door opened slowly and it was difficult to see his expression in the shadows of the room. ‘Why is it so dark in here?’
‘I thought you would prefer it this way,’ she replied, relieved her voice did not give away her nervousness.
Gabriel closed the door behind him and walked further into the room. He was still dressed impeccably for an evening out. Turning this way, then that, he spun in a circle. Finally, he spotted her. ‘Are you well?’
‘Of course.’
‘Are you not cold?’
‘No,’ she lied.
There was a hesitation, then he cleared his throat. ‘It’s late. Perhaps we should discuss this in the morning.’
He was leaving? After all this time agonising and waiting for him, he was leaving? How much was she expected to endure? She jumped off the bed and ran to the door, blocking his way. ‘I thought we had an agreement.’
‘We do...I mean we did.’
‘You’ve changed your mind?’
Gabriel held up his hands, appearing as if he couldn’t bear to touch her. ‘I simply thought we could do this tomorrow.’
‘Oh, no, we will do this now or not at all.’ Olivia closed her eyes and prayed he would agree to stay.
‘Very well,’ he said, sounding as if he was trying to calm a skittish colt.
Olivia nodded and walked back to the bed. When she laid back down, she noticed he hadn’t moved from where he stood by the door.
‘It will not work with you all the way over there,’ she bit out sarcastically.
‘I am fine over here,’ he said with a raspy voice. ‘I can hear you just fine.’
‘Well, I do not expect to do any talking so that really should not matter.’
Gabriel cleared his throat. ‘You are certain you would like me come closer?’
If he made her explain exactly how this would work, she was bound to strangle him with her sheets. ‘I believe that is how this is done—if memory serves me correctly.’
He approached the side of her bed. She waited for him to do something, but all he seemed capable of doing was staring at the landscape by Constable that hung behind her.
Now it was her turn to clear her throat, but this was to get his attention. Once she had it, she motioned to his tailcoat with her finger.
He nodded and plucked a string off his sleeve. ‘Yes, it’s new. Mr Weston continues to prove himself the finest tailor in London.’
Resisting the urge to smother him with one of her pillows, Olivia took a deep breath and looked at the idiot she married. ‘Fine, leave it on. Just open your trousers.’
An odd sound emerged from Gabriel. ‘My what?’
‘Trousers.’ Olivia began to slide the hem of her nightrail up her legs. ‘Fear not, I will not look.’
With her eyes squeezed firmly shut, Olivia missed her husband’s shocked expression that quickly turned to a heated gaze. Abruptly he grabbed her wrist, preventing her from raising the material any higher than the middle of her thighs.
Refusing to open her eyes, she let out a sigh. ‘Very well, you take the lead.’
‘Olivia, what exactly are you doing?’ he asked in a husky voice.
She threw her forearm over her eyes. ‘I thought you said you wanted to get this over with quickly?’
He let out a soft laugh and she peered out from behind her arm.
His face was cast in the
