Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) (13 page)

“We will be returning to London on Friday, Oliver,” his mother announced, during the main course.

“Of course Mother, I understand.” He tried his best to look disappointed, but inside, he was relieved.

If they left, perhaps Sarah and he could go back to how they had been before his mother had arrived. He was desperate to return to her bed, but how could he, whilst things were still so strained between them?

“All of us,” his mother corrected.

“Pardon?” Oliver’s eyebrows rose as he sat up straighter in his chair.

“You will join Honoria and me for the remainder of the Season.” The Dowager’s tone brooked no argument.

“I’m not sure if Sarah wants to return for the Season, mother.” 

Actually, he knew Sarah
didn’t
want to return for the Season. She loved being out of London, and wouldn’t like having to share a house with his mother and sister-in-law in town.

“I do not care what
that
woman wants. You will return with us and do your duty to your family. Your father would be horrified to think that you let Honoria and me go to London without you. Who will be there to look after us?”

Oliver bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t care who looked after them, but he knew she was right. It was his duty, his obligation to make sure his mother and Honoria were safe and happy. He could not do that from here.

“I will discuss it with my wife.”

“You will do your duty for the first time in your life.” His mother fairly yelled.

Oliver cringed and reached for the whisky.

***

That night Oliver paced in his bedchamber for what seemed like half the night, but it had probably been less than an hour. Should he go in to his wife?
Could
he go in to his wife? After their horrible talk two days before, when he’d all but told her that she wasn’t good enough to be his wife, he hadn’t felt free to touch her, let alone make love to her. Since his mother had arrived, the only moments of happiness they’d had were in Sarah’s bed and now he felt barred from tha,t too.

Oliver sat down on his bed with a thump and called himself ten types of coward. He hadn’t even told Sarah that he would have to go back to London with his mother. After being degraded for an entire evening, not an unusual event, he had acquiesced and agreed to go with them.

Climbing into his huge, cold and lonely bed, Oliver felt the urge to weep. Completely defeated on every front, he was a failure to the title of Duke and all the responsibilities that came with it. He was a failure to his wife. She was miserable and alone. And most of all, he was a failure as a man, who could not even bring himself to apologize and seek comfort in his wife’s body, as he knew she would offer.

That was probably the worst part. He knew she would never deny him, but did she still want him? After everything he had done and said, could she really care for him the same way she had before? Did she still love him as she had? Because although the words had never been said, Oliver had seen them, written ten feet high in her eyes when she’d looked at him. And God it hurt to know it may be gone.

***

What Oliver didn’t realize was that on the other side of that adjoining door, his Duchess was also awake and miserable. After all that had come between them, she was still in love with her husband. So much so that his rejection almost broke her heart in two. Laying her hands on her belly, she promised her baby that she would love him forever, no matter what happened.

The next morning, after a horrible night’s sleep, Sarah awoke to her maid beside her bed with a tray of tea, buttered toast and a note from Oliver.

Terrified of what this note would say she sipped her tea without opening it, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Once she was satisfied that she would not be vomiting, Sarah picked up the expensive paper and unfolded it, her breath hitching in her throat.

My dear.

Once you have awoken would you please meet me in my study,

I have something to discuss with you.

Oliver

Sarah’s heart sank so low she wasn’t sure it was still inside her body. Pressing a hand to her baby, she took a deep steadying breath. Whatever he had to say, she would endure it. Perhaps he had decided to take her away from here? Perhaps he wanted to discuss sharing her bed again? Although Sarah tried to be as positive as possible, optimism coming generally naturally to her, she could not stop this rather odd feeling that something bad was afoot.

Sarah dressed in another of her old walking dresses, feeling comfortable and like herself. She made her way to the Duke’s study. Again she noticed the kind eyes and smiles of the footmen, and wondered why they always made eye contact with her but would never look at her mother-in-law the same way. Smiling her thanks to the butler as he opened the door to her husband’s study, she realized it was probably because she came from a lower class. They were not intimidated by her as they were the Dowager.

“Good morning my dear,” Oliver’s voice sounded quite hoarse.

“Good morning, Oliver, did you sleep well?” Sarah asked, biting her tongue and chastising herself for being spiteful.

Oliver’s eyebrows rose but he didn’t comment on her odd tone.

“I did, thank you. And you?”

“Not particularly.” She answered honestly, giving him such a direct look that he looked down at his ledgers.

“Sarah, you’re not happy at the moment and I’m not sure what I can do to change that. On Friday I will be escorting my mother and Honoria back to London for the rest of the Season.”

A cold calm descended on Sarah and she blinked slowly.

“Do you wish to stay here or would you prefer to come with me to London?”

Sarah heard the softly pitched words and real terror struck at her heart. How could Oliver so easily abandon her, yet how could she go with him? She knew that his town house was half the size of his estate and she would never be able to escape the two other women there.

Gathering her courage, Sarah informed him of her decision. She had spent the time whilst she dressed quizzing her maid on the other property the Duchy owned, there were quite a few other options than just London and here.

“Neither. I would like to go to Scotland if I may.”

“To the old castle?” He asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Yes, do you think there would be enough servants if I took my maids with me?” Sarah forced herself to keep her eyes locked with Oliver’s, but inside she was screaming. How could he choose to return to London when she needed him with her?

“I’m sure there would be.” Oliver answered slowly, frowning in thought.

“I will send a letter ahead of you but I doubt they’ll need to do more than prepare your room. All of the properties owned by the Duchy are well staffed and ready at a moment’s notice.”

Sarah just nodded and bowed her head, defeated. Oliver was more than happy to pack her off to a distant castle. Why was she even surprised? All of her original fears about their marriage were coming true. Oliver would not miss her presence for a moment, and yet she felt her heart breaking as though it were being slowly pulled apart at the seams. Two tears slid down her cheeks before she could stop them and she tried to wipe them away, subtly.

“I’m sorry you have been so miserable, Sarah.”

“Oh Oliver...” Sarah opened her mouth, ready to tell him how much she would miss him, how much she loved him, how much she wanted her baby to bridge the chasm between them.

She was stopped by the look in his eyes. Sarah saw nothing but regret and loathing. Whether it was directed at himself or her she didn’t know, but she knew this wasn’t the time for such declarations. Especially while she was feeling so fragile.

If she declared her love only to be rebuffed, she didn’t think her heart could  bear it. She would have to wait until her armour was a little stronger. Standing up with as much grace as she could gather, she said the last words she would say to her husband for months.

“I’ll go and start packing.”

Nine

Oliver travelled the nine miles to London on horseback. His mother was truly scandalized but he preferred her ten minute outburst of displeasure rather than listen to her talking in the carriage for the whole trip.

They settled into the Lincoln town house easily. Oliver took the Duke’s bedroom, his mother the Duchess’s rooms. Oliver hated that his wife wasn’t in the room adjoining his. It was as though nothing had changed in his life. While inside, Oliver saw the world with completely new eyes.

***

After a month from hell, Oliver had finally given into his mother’s blatant attempts at making him feel guilty about ‘
never coming out into society as his title demanded.
’ He attended a ball.

He stepped into the music filled room and glanced around the richly dressed, assembled members of the London
ton
. Hopefully he could dance once with Charlotte or his sister-in-law and then hide in the card room. He spotted the effervescent Lady Charlotte and moved quickly into the safety of her company, recognizing the gentlemen standing in her circle.

“Lady Charlotte,” he said, greeting her with his best courtly bow and a smile. He had few real joys nowadays, but seeing his true friends was one of them.

“John, Archie,” he nodded to his best friends standing near her.

Charlotte curtsied and the gentlemen inclined their heads with a smile.

“Oliver, I didn’t realize you had come back to town,” Charlotte held out her hand and he bent over her fingers and touched his lips to her glove.

The gentlemen shook their heads in agreement and Oliver clenched his teeth, forcing a smile to his lips. He hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation with his friends.

“I’ve been back for a little while.”
A whole month, but who was counting?

“Haven’t seen you at the club,” Archie admonished quietly, his elegant eyebrows rising in question.

Oliver lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, glancing away for a moment.

“I have been busy with estate business, and have been working with my fence master quite a bit.”

Every day actually; it was the only thing keeping his body in check. It stopped him from mounting his horse and galloping straight to Scotland. Damn his pride. He wanted his wife.

“Not to mention the fact that you are newly married,” Charlotte teased with a cheeky grin and a sisterly nudge to his side. “Where is that beautiful wife of yours?” Charlotte turned her head, obviously looking for the blonde angel who belonged at his side.

Oliver steeled himself for what he had to tell Charlotte, and for the response he was going to get.

“Actually Charlotte, Sarah has gone to Scotland for the rest of the Season.” He explained as quietly and nonchalantly as possible. He glanced away again, then returned his gaze to her frowning face.

“Pardon?” Charlotte leaned forward, as though she hadn’t heard properly.

“Sarah’s in Scotland.” He was struggling to remain smiling now. His cheeks ached and there was a heaviness on his chest that he couldn’t seem to dislodge. He coughed.

“I’m sorry, Oliver, I must have not have heard you correctly.”

Oliver wasn’t enjoying the play of emotions across Charlotte’s face, they made him feel sick with guilt. She had never hid her feelings well, it was the one thing she didn’t seem to be able to do. He clenched his teeth together and tried once more.

“Sarah’s in Scotland.” He said, this time louder and with more feeling.

“What did you do?” Charlotte swung exasperated eyes heavenward and then fixed them back on his face.

“Charlotte, please,” Oliver wasn’t sure what else to say as he watched Charlotte boil dangerously close to exploding. Her face was turning red and her eyes were practically spitting fire.

“What did you do?” Charlotte lowered her voice when she noticed how many people had now turned to look at them.

She removed the scowl from her face and plastered on a calm facade, although it was obviously on the verge of cracking. The fire beneath was still burning.

“I came to London without my wife.” Oliver repeated the words he knew had to be said but he was loathe to say them. It still hurt that she had chosen Scotland over him.

“And you packed her off to a Scottish castle? Your new wife? Your Duchess?”

“She wanted to go. She wasn’t enjoying being at the estate and when I asked her whether she wanted to come back to London with me or stay there, she chose to travel to Scotland instead.”

“That is impossible. You must have done something very wrong.” Charlotte shook her head, her voice disdainful yet her face outwardly showing only pleasantness.

“I didn’t do a thing. She was welcomed by the servants and myself. When my mother and sister-in-law arrived they tried to...”

“No!” Charlotte’s voice lost the calmness she had recently acquired and she glared at him.

Oliver groaned and rolled his eyes. Really, this was too much, even for him. And he had had plenty of practice managing difficult women.

“You let your mother and that snake of a sister-in-law visit you while you were on your honeymoon?”

“They didn’t visit, they live there.” He couldn’t believe Charlotte would scoff at the idea.

“Oh Sarah, you poor, poor thing,” murmured to herself, clasping her hands in front of her ample bosom.

Charlotte that is really not fair, I didn’t do anything...”

“Exactly. You didn’t do anything to protect your beautiful, sweet, innocent wife from being set upon by the most scheming woman I have ever met.”

Oliver had forgotten that Charlotte and Honoria had debuted in the same year. They were both duke’s daughters and had obviously moved in the same circles. It seemed that Charlotte’s opinion of Honoria was similar to Sarah’s.

“You stupid, ignorant...” As Charlotte blew air out her nostrils and started to wind herself up into a full blown attack, help came from an unexpected corner.

“Lady Charlotte,” Archie stepped in front of Oliver and bowed to her.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” The question was politely worded but his stance and tone left little to decipher.

Charlotte shut her mouth and eyed Archie with disdain.

“Of course my lord,” her eyes flashed daggers at Oliver even while Archie led her away.

“I wasn’t quite expecting that response.” Oliver muttered to John, the only one still standing near him.

“Charlotte is very fond of Sarah,” John gave him a confused look. “You didn’t really allow your mother and sister-in-law to intrude upon your honeymoon, did you?”

“Not you, too.” Oliver was ready to throw up his hands in defeat. If John wouldn’t defend him, no one would.

“No, don’t get me wrong. If Sarah wanted to go to Scotland, then that’s fine, but why did your mother and Lady Sombury leave London in the middle of the Season to visit you?” John pointed out, his eyebrows rising in a question that Oliver had never asked himself.

“They said they wanted to help, but, well, they didn’t.” 

He really didn’t understand why his mother hadn’t left him and Sarah alone. He knew that she didn’t approve of Sarah as the new Duchess, but he hadn’t had the courage to ask his mother to back off, let alone to leave her home.

Her home
… that just said it all.

****

Oliver buried himself for another month. When he finally resurfaced, he started attending his club, often spending the afternoons riding or talking with John, Archie or Rupert. He knew he had to attend another ball but he was loathe to do so.

At his club, he placed a fake smile on his face when explaining that his wife had taken to the country for the remainder of the season. Most of the gentlemen shrugged or gave him an understanding wink or nod. They probably thought he had discarded her, yet nothing could be further from the truth.

The one thing he couldn’t force himself to do was indulge in an affair. He could hardly keep his food down when he thought of laying with another woman.

How could he ever touch another woman with the hands that had loved Sarah so well? How would he bring himself to make love to his wife again, knowing where he had put his prick when she wasn’t looking?

He knew everyone expected it. The men gave him a knowing smile when he explained that his wife had stayed on their honeymoon without him. Rupert had even gently suggested he look at finding a discreet mistress. He had been inches away from planting his fist in his friend’s jaw. 

Oliver was lost. One more month of the season and he could return to his wife. He would find Sarah and beg her neverto allow him to leave her again. He was counting the moments.

***

After an afternoon at his club listening to Archie complain about a ball his mother was forcing him to attend, Oliver decided he would make the effort to attend. Comrades in arms and all that.

Oliver had actually been enjoying himself amongst his peers and friends in the card room when a nasty voice broke through the cigars and whiskey.

“Look who’s here, and without his pretty wife.” The snide comment came from behind John’s back and Oliver looked up to see a large man step out from his friend’s shadow.

“Millington,” Oliver inclined his head and turned back to Archie.

Charles Millington moved around their group and took the seat opposite Oliver.

“So, how’s married life?” He asked with a leer.

“Good.”

“And where is the pretty new Duchess?” Millington looked around the room as though he would see her there.

Oliver gripped his cards tightly in his hands, his palms beginning to sweat. He hadn’t seen Millington since the night he had tried to make Sarah dance with him again and Oliver had punched him in the stomach.

“She’s traveled to Scotland for the season.”

For the first time Oliver was glad Sarah wasn’t in London. She would be horrified if she had to deal with this man again.

“What a pity,” Millington sighed dramatically.

Oliver saw the interested looks they were getting from the gentlemen in the room, but did his best to maintain the illusion that he was in control of his temper.

He smiled and picked up his whisky, swallowing the burning amber liquid with a harsh gulp.

John answered for him. “It is a pity. My sister especially wishes the Duchess had returned.”

“She’s not the only one.” Millington leered again and slapped John on the back. This time Oliver smelled the liquor on his breath and tried his best to unclench his fingers from their tight fists.

“Millington” John’s tone was a warning as he moved restlessly in his seat.

Everyone in the card room was now watching their group. Oliver’s face flushed with hot blood being the center of attention, but nothing could deflect him from the expression on Millington’s face. He looked satisfied, triumphant, and Oliver didn’t know why.
He
was the one that had won her,
he
had married her, taken her virginity and enjoyed months in her bed. Why was Millington looking so smug?

“Why do you care Millington? She’s nothing to you.” Oliver shot back, propriety be damned.

Millington laughed, the sound rough and too loud.

“But I was so hoping that she could be.” His lustful eyes told Oliver more than his words could about what he wanted from Sarah.

“That is completely uncalled for,” John surged to his feet in time with Oliver. Millington slowly followed.

“Speak plainly, Millington.” Standing now, the bastard was within arm’s reach.

“Oh, I just hoped now that she was married, Sarah would indulge herself like so many other married ladies.”

Oliver moved before he had even finished the sentence. Wrapping his hands around the other man’s throat he squeezed, remembering the way Sarah had looked that first night.

“Over my dead body.”

“Oliver, stop.” John pulled Oliver’s hands away with effort.

Oliver forced his aching hands to relax and released Millington’s throat reluctantly. He glared at the disgusting man, who was still a mottled red and turned to leave.

He heard Millington wheeze and cough, then speak “You can’t protect her night and day, do you realize  that? When she’s in London next season, I will make sure she grants me an audience.”

Oliver froze. As a married woman, Sarah wasn’t as protected as virgins were. She was allowed to walk
alone
, ride in carriages
alone
and meet gentlemen in his home
alone
. Oliver had a vision of Sarah’s lovely body held prostrate under Millington’s, fighting him to no avail.

Oliver turned and swung, putting all his anger and pain behind his fist and hit Millington squarely in the side of the head. Pain splintered through his hand and he roared. Millington went down and didn’t get back up.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. A doctor was called, Oliver was rushed home and a police report was made. No one blamed Oliver and as a Duke, he was beyond reproach. Millington regained consciousness the next day, with no lasting effects. Oliver only hoped he had the chance to plant the bastard properly the next time he saw him.