The Complete Regency Surrender Collection. Louise Allen

      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.

       Chapter Twelve

      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 was enjoying the bath he had arranged for her. He glanced at his watch and pictured her smooth skin glistening in the water at that very moment.

      Once again he arrived as Prinny was sitting down to breakfast, this time in the Gothic Dining Room. The Regent painted a lonely picture, sitting by himself at the enormous table in the long panelled room normally used for dinner parties. As Gabriel crossed the threshold, Prinny motioned with his fork for Gabriel to sit.

      ‘This marks a change for you,’ Gabriel said, taking the seat to his right. ‘I had not thought you ever took breakfast in this room.’

      Prinny swallowed a mouthful of ham and reached for his glass of wine. ‘I never do. But you have me held up in this fortress for a week and I am growing bored of my rooms.’ A bored Prinny was not a good thing. ‘Fill up a plate and join me, Winter.’

      ‘Thank you, but I have already eaten this morning.’ There was no mistaking the meaning behind the pursed lips of his host. ‘However, I am sure I can find something to tempt me.’

      That appeared to appease Prinny, because his mouth curved into a smile for the first time since Gabriel had entered the room. A plate and utensils were laid out before him and he accepted a cup of coffee to be polite rather than quench his thirst. Stirring sugar into his cup, Gabriel tried to find the perfect way to break the news that they were no closer to finding the person who wanted Prinny dead. He decided to be direct.

      ‘You have said nothing about my new painting,’ Prinny said, motioning with his fork to a painting that hung over the sideboard.

      So they would make small talk first. Gabriel took a cursory glance at the painting of people. ‘It’s quite nice.’

      Prinny snorted. ‘Quite nice, he says. Quite nice is that cup in your hand. That, my friend, is a stunning example of an Italian master. Part of a collection owned by Boney’s sister, Pauline.’

      Gabriel looked back at the painting and then at Prinny, who had shifted his attention back to his breakfast. ‘How in the world did you acquire that?’

      ‘Olivia.’

      ‘My Olivia?’ Gabriel choked out, his eyes widening.

      Prinny’s hand paused with his glass halfway to his lips. ‘What ho? My Olivia? Careful or you may catch yourself sounding like a man who actually cares for his wife.’

      Not up for being baited, Gabriel knew enough to ignore the comment. For years Prinny had admonished him about the state of his marriage with Olivia while he went about ignoring both of his wives and taking a number of mistresses.

      How was it that Olivia would know about a painting that belonged to Napoleon’s sister? ‘How did Olivia help you acquire that?’

      ‘She was approached to authenticate the piece and told me about it. Capital gel, that wife of yours.