Page 20 of How to Capture a Duke

“For thinking I entrapped your grandson in marriage?” Olivia asked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

“Heavens, no. Not that. For initially believing Lady Samantha when she claimed you stole her necklace.”

“You believe me then?” Olivia cringed at the note of hopefulness that crept into her voice. She wanted the woman to know the truth, that she wasn’t a liar or a thief. If Antonia believed that she’d never stolen the necklace, then she must know that she would not have needed an alibi and would have to conclude that she didn’t trap her grandson to the altar.

“Lady Samantha thought herself quite clever for placing the jewelry in your belongings. But her efforts to attract the interest of the gentlemen, and even her hopes of attracting my grandson, should he have appeared at the house party, were for naught. I see that now.”

Olivia let out a sigh. “I’m grateful. I’ve longed for someone to believe me.”

“My grandson is another worry entirely. Whether you knew he was the duke or not does not matter.”

“It matters to me! I didn’t know his true identity. I would never have asked him to confirm that we were together that morning if I had known he was the duke.”

“My grandson can be stubborn. You are an intelligent young lady. I assume you know why he is a man of few words?”

She did know. But he rarely stuttered when he was with her.

“It does not justify why he neglected his guests at Rosehill, but it explains his actions,” the dowager said.

“You mean why he pretended to be a head groom?”

“No, not that. That was terribly wrong of him. I meant why he’s avoided the young ladies. And his beliefs regarding children.”

“What do you mean?” Did the man dislike children? It was entirely possible. Many men ignored their own children. Even the wives of the aristocracy retained nannies and governesses then sent their offspring packing to boarding schools when they were older. But it still did not prevent them from having children. All titled men needed heirs.

Tristan was no exception.

“It is not my place to tell you my grandson’s views. Meanwhile, you do not seem like a lady who will be content to stay here.”

“Rosehill is lovely, but—”

The dowager waved a jeweled hand. “The London season awaits, as does your family.”

“Yes.”

“Circumstances may have been less than perfect, but I feel you are what my grandson needs. He is long due happiness.”

“What precisely are you suggesting?”

The woman’s eyes sparked as they met hers. “Defy his wishes. Go to London. You are the Duchess of Keswick. Seize what belongs to you.”

Chapter Seven

Even in his study, Tristan heard the noise coming from the vestibule. His staff was well aware that he disliked disturbances or any changes to his routine. So what in the world was its cause?

He pushed his chair away from his desk and walked to the doorway. Voices traveled up the stairs to the second floor.

What the devil?

He approached the landing and saw her. His jaw slackened in shock. Tall and elegant, she stood proudly in his vestibule as if she belonged in his home. His entire staff was lined up with Gordon at the head of the group. Olivia nodded and smiled at something the butler said. Gordon smiled, and his chest puffed with pride.

Tristan hastily descended the stairs.

Gordon was first to address him. “Your Grace, the duchess has come home.”

Home.

The meaning was unmistakable. She intended to reside here. Permanently.