The Duke of Olympia Meets His Match by Juliana Gray Page A

like, of course. You have the luxury of being able to make as much a fool of yourself as you please. I, however, do not, and I
hope
”—she allowed a little drawl on the word—“you’ll remember that.” She made as if to rise.
    â€œTut, tut, Mrs. Schuyler. I had not the slightest intention of offending you.”
    â€œYou haven’t. I’m simply not in any position to return the flirtation, however kindly it was meant. I haven’t got any more relatives left to take me in, and the Morrisons aren’t really all that bad.”
    She was sincere, he realized. Absolutely sincere. There was nothing coy about the expression in her face, no amusement dancing in the eyes and all that. Perhaps a wry little twist to her mouth, which was full and a very pale pink, as if she’d been drinking lemonade.
    Her brows began to take on a quizzical slant, as he remained helplessly silent.
    â€œI’m a widow, you see,” she went on. “My husband lost everything in the late financial panic, and then he decided that wasn’t enough, so he shot himself. He tried to make it look like a hunting accident, but the insurance men weren’t fooled. So I’m what’s called a dependent, though of course you knew that already. A pretty miserable thing to be, most would agree, but at least I knew what it was like to be otherwise, once. I know what happiness is, which is more than most people can say.”
    â€œYes,” he said softly, staring at her hair.
    â€œBut I can’t lose my standing with the Morrisons, as I said before. That would be the last stroke for me. So you really must leave.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œYou must leave.” She was smiling gently, the way one smiled at children and idiots. “I’m sorry to interrupt the fun, but off you go. Amuse yourself with one of the lovely young matrons we’ve got on board—I don’t think their husbands will mind—or better yet, with Ruby. Ask her about Miss Austen. She’s read those books a dozen times.
Persuasion
is her favorite, but if you come on like Darcy, you’ll win her for life.”
    Dismissed. She was dismissing him.
    It occurred to him that he didn’t want to leave, that leaving this room—abandoning this attractive and unexpected and
scintillatingly
intense woman for the pleasant unmarked skin of Miss Ruby Morrison—was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. After all, he had business with her. A few questions to put to that queenly face. He couldn’t quite remember them now, but they were still there, waiting to be asked.
    He laid his hands on his knees and rose. “I quite understand your position, Mrs. Schuyler. But as it happens, I’m here to find a book.”
    â€œA
book
?” As if to say,
A Bengal tiger?
    â€œYes. We are in the library, after all. A handsome room, isn’t it? What are
you
reading, if I may inquire?”
    She held it up. “Collins.”
    â€œAh! A sensational novel. You surprise me again. I had you pegged for something more serious. Enjoy your book, Mrs. Schuyler, and pay me no attention at all.” He bowed and strolled off to stand before one of the nearby shelves. “Simply browsing.”
    â€œAs you wish, sir.”
    For perhaps half a minute, the room was perfectly still, except for the slow tick of the grandfather clock and the distant grind of the twin screw propellers, thrusting the
Majestic
across the surface of the North Atlantic. As a young man, Olympia had traveled the ocean aboard the earlier steamships, and he sometimes forgot how noisy and dirty and rough they were, how cramped and smelling of oil and smoke, how devoid of ornamentation. How one was occasionally pitched across one’s cabin in the middle of the night, without the slightest warning. Steaming across the seas now resembled a stay at a fine hotel, except for the occasional lateral tilt and the fact that you