you, we are. I dare say I thought you might have been feeling poorly since you arrived so late, but I see you were relaxing with some brandy while we were debating on how long we could occupy the children before they began climbing the curtains,’ she said in the sweetest tone she could muster.
‘Forgive me. Urgent business kept me occupied until now. Had I been able to disengage myself and join you here, I would have.’
As he turned his head and watched Andrew approach Nicholas, Olivia noticed a thin red line over his left brow.
‘Did you injure yourself getting dressed today?’
He began spinning the gold intaglio ring on his pinkie. ‘I rode into a low-hanging branch in the park this morning.’
The only other time she’d witnessed him fidget with that ring was when he’d stood at the side of her bed after Nicholas was born—before she threw him out of her room. ‘I imagine you would like to say a few words before the ceremony begins.’
He stared blankly at her for a fleeting moment. ‘Of course.’
‘Very well, while you collect your thoughts, I’ll inform Nicholas we are finally able to begin.’ She placed her nephew in Victoria’s arms. As she stood, another whiff of brandy filled her nose. He was making it very difficult for her to resist the urge to step on his foot as she sauntered past him.
* * *
Once the carriages of her last few guests had departed down the drive, Olivia returned to the Green Drawing Room to find her mother-in-law seated on a sofa watching Gabriel and Nicholas build a house of cards across the room. Gabriel’s muscular form was stretched out across the Aubusson rug, while he supported himself on his elbow. She recalled the last time she had seen him reclining in such a casual pose. It was six years ago on a rug in her bedchamber. Squeezing her eyelids shut, she tried to force the image from her mind.
She needed wine. Unfortunately there was only tea. Heading to the table with the cups, Olivia looked at Gabriel’s mother. ‘Would you care for more tea, Catherine?’
‘If you are having another cup...I recall how trying it was to prepare for this occasion. Tea will be just the thing.’
Olivia handed Catherine a cup and poured another for herself, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Gabriel. It would be close to impossible to endure his presence much longer. Resentment rippled through her and tea would never relieve it.
‘Your sister’s youngest is beautiful,’ Catherine said, shifting so Olivia could sit next to her. ‘Watching you with him reminded me of how you would play with Nicholas when he was an infant. Now look at him. In those clothes and with his hair cut, he looks like a small version of his father and his uncles.’ She studied Olivia over the rim of her cup. ‘Soon he will be able to attend Eton.’
Olivia’s heart stopped. Gabriel wouldn’t do that to her. Would he? ‘Has your son mentioned something to you about sending him away to school?’
‘You’re the mother of his heir. Haven’t the two of you discussed plans for his education yet?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I assumed he would continue to be tutored at home like his father until he was ready to attend Cambridge.’ Glancing at Gabriel, she wondered if he had other plans.
‘Perhaps. However, you’ll not know for certain unless the two of you discuss it.’ Catherine gave an appraising stare before turning her attention to her son and grandson. ‘My husband would build houses out of cards with the boys when they were children. Oh, how he would dote on them.’
She envied the woman. While the memories of the first year of her own marriage were quite lovely, there were none since Nicholas was born. Glancing back at the rug, she watched the playful interaction between father and son. Olivia knew Gabriel loved Nicholas. She just didn’t want to witness it.
‘Nicholas needs a brother.’
The sip of tea she had taken almost left by way of Olivia’s nose. Her coughing was so fitful that the occupants on the rug looked her way.
‘Are you all right, Mama?’ Nicholas asked with a wrinkled brow that indeed made him look like a small version of the man next to him.
Nodding her head, Olivia tried to stop the spasms in her throat. When the coughing had subsided and the burning in her nose had lessened, she delicately wiped her eyes.
‘Gabriel needs another son,’ Catherine reiterated.
Well, Olivia knew that was not about to happen—unless she had an immaculate conception. She would never allow Gabriel in her bed again. ‘Nicholas is a healthy boy. We already have our heir.’
‘Life holds no guarantees. It is wise to plan for unfortunate occurrences. This family is known for its unbroken line of boys. It should not be difficult for you to have another.’
Olivia refused to look at her mother-in-law. A sharp pain sliced her heart at the thought of the death of her precious boy.
‘Certainly you and Gabriel have discussed having more children.’
‘Oh, we’ve discussed it,’ muttered Olivia, taking a fortifying sip.
‘Then it’s simply a matter of nature taking its course?’
‘You could say that.’
The realisation that she would have no more children felt like someone had carved out a chunk of her heart. If Gabriel did intend to send Nicholas away to school, there would be another tremendous void in her life that nothing would fill. And then she would be alone with no one to love.
* * *
The flames of the candles flickered as Olivia walked towards Nicholas and Gabriel. ‘It is time for bed, my love,’ she said, approaching Nicholas’s side.
Gabriel recalled hearing those words before. It was the last night he had found release inside a woman—the last time he had bedded his wife. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from dwelling on the image of Olivia lying under him, with her soft legs squeezing his sides. All these years of frustration had done nothing to quell his desire for her.
‘Look at our fierce fortress, Mama. It’s almost as tall as me.’
‘Very impressive indeed. I commend your steady hand.’
Nicholas turned his large hazel eyes to Gabriel. ‘Do I truly have to go to bed, Papa? I want to stay awake as long as you do. I am almost a man, you know.’
Gabriel glanced at Olivia to gauge her reaction. Her head was angled down towards Nicholas, obscuring her features. Instinctively, his attention was drawn to the swell of her lovely breasts, hidden in the lemon-coloured satin folds of her gown. How he wished he could trace the curve of one breast over to the next. He curled his fingers into a fist to stop the aching. Being this close to her was always torture. ‘If your mother says it’s time for bed, you must obey. However, we cannot leave our fortress unattended. Why don’t you knock it down before the enemy attacks it while we slumber?’
‘Oh, that is an excellent notion.’
Gabriel imagined the sound emanating from his son was something close to the war cry issued by the
