"You're back?"
Lord Deveraux was well and truly in his cups when Ruan stormed into the library of Jarvis House later that evening. He and Lord Payne were still sprawled on the chairs drinking brandy, and the only difference that Ruan could discern since leaving them a few hours ago, was that the decanter of alcohol was now nearly empty.
"Yes, it would seem I have to impose on your hospitality a bit longer, Deveraux. I hope you don't mind?"
Ruan could have returned to Pemberton Hall, which lay some thirty miles away, but he wanted to remain close to St. Jarvis --close to Olive. With a small nod of thanks, Ruan accepted a tumbler of brandy from Lord Deveraux, and sat down on a nearby chaise with a sigh.
"No luck then?" Lord Payne questioned, again displaying his utter lack of tact. If Ruan was the type of man who was easily offended, the young Lord's overly familiar tone would have grated on his nerves. As it was, it took a lot to offend Ruan, and there was a boyish charm about Lord Payne, that made one overlook his lazy manners.
"I was ordered out of the establishment at gun point," he replied shortly, earning a guffaw of amusement from Lord Payne.
"Lud," he put down his drink, and shook his blonde mop of hair in bemusement. "And I thought I had the worst luck with women, but you seem to be beating even me Everleigh. That's quite an accomplishment!"
"Glad to be of service."
If Payne had noted the dryness of Ruan's tone, he ignored it; instead he launched into a long tale of woe involving a mistress in Belgravia, a dressmaker's bill so extravagant it made even Ruan wince, and a black eye delivered in a fit of passion by a fiery actress, the traces of which still lingered on Payne's face.
"Having a mistress is supposed to be a resting activity," Julian snorted, as Payne's sad tale came to an end. "Not a pastime which leaves you battered and bruised."
"Unless that's the sort of thing you're into," Ruan quipped, then immediately wished he hadn't for Lord Payne launched into a long inquisition of what actions a man might ask a mistress to carry out if they were interested in that sort of thing.
Darkness had fallen by the tome Ruan finished his drink, and when his tumbler was empty he refused the next measure that Deveraux offered, instead standing up and stretching his weary body. His day had been long and it had not ended the way he had hoped it would --with Olive warming his bed. He frowned in annoyance; during the long ride from Southampton the thought of what he would do to Olive once he had her alone in his bedchamber had been foremost on his mind, and now he found himself filled with desire but with no outlet for it. He bid the two slightly sauced gentlemen goodnight, and went in search of a footman or another servant who might direct him to a bedchamber.
Jarvis House lay in darkness, but as Ruan made his way to the entrance hall, he saw a shaft of light emerging from a door that was slightly ajar.
"Hello?" he knocked, pushing the door open.
He had expected to perhaps find the housekeeper or the butler ensconced inside the tiny sitting room, but instead it was Jane, curled up by the fire reading a rather large, dusty looking book.
"Your Grace," Jane looked up, startled as he entered the room. "I thought you were returning to Pemberton Hall?"
"A slight change of plans," he replied, and nodded at the book in her hands. "Interesting bed time reading?"
Jane wrinkled her nose, shook her head and placed the book aside. From his vantage point Ruan could read the title: Native Insects of the British Isles.
"I wouldn't have pegged you as an insect enthusiast," he commented, and to his surprise Jane frowned darkly.
"Oh, I'm not," she said firmly, "Can't stand the wretched things. Tell me your Grace, did my brother manage to stop drinking for long enough to find you a room for the night?"
She gave a loud sigh of annoyance when the Duke shook his head to her question.
"I pray you will forgive his bad manners," Jane said, rising from her chair and gesturing for Ruan to follow her. She took a candle, and led him through the dark, winding halls of Jarvis House. He followed her up the stairs, past rows of portraits of Deverauxs past, and down a long corridor to one of the guest suites.
"If I had known you were staying, I would have had one of the chamber maids light the fire," Jane said apologetically as she left him outside the door. "If you're cold, I could wake one of them to do it for you?"
Even though she had offered, her tone was reluctant, and Ruan knew that the soft-hearted Jane would have been loathe to wake a sleeping maid in the dead of night to light a fire --even for a Duke.
"I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine, thank you, Jane," he replied easily; in truth the night was very mild and Ruan knew that he wouldn't even need bedclothes. Though that wasn't the type of thing one said to a lady in a dark corridor. "Thank you again for allowing me to stay, I need to remain close to St. Jarvis for the foreseeable future."
"Is it true that Olive-" Jane hesitated, glancing at him nervously as though trying to ascertain what his reaction might be.
"Olive is my wife," Ruan confirmed, wondering how Deveraux had described the situation to his sister. No doubt he had embellished the tale, for Jane looked even more nervous now that he had confirmed the fact.
"I hope you don't mind my impertinence, your Grace," she continued, still looking nervous but determined to say her piece. "But if that is the case, then why are you here and not with her?"
"Olive has no desire for me to be anywhere near her," Ruan gave a hollow laugh which made Jane flinch. It must have sounded more bitter than he had intended it, and indeed he felt more bitter than he had thought was possible. Olive's rejection had truly rankled him, both his pride and his heart, which he had not realised was so involved in the whole situation until it had begun to ache with loneliness. "She has no desire to be my Duchess, and I wouldn't be too wrong in saying that she loathes me most thoroughly."
"Oh, dear."
Jane's summation of the situation was so mild and polite that Ruan almost laughed. Oh, dear indeed.
"Do you think perhaps she suffered some sort of shock after what happened on The Elizabeth?" Jane wondered aloud.
"I think she was more shocked by the events that happened before we even boarded the ruddy ship," Ruan conceded; he was starting to realise that his behaviour in gaining Olive's hand might have been slightly overbearing. Jane gave him an inquisitive look, and reluctantly Ruan shared the story of how he had come to win Olive in a game of chance, after having carefully orchestrated the situation so that Lord Greene would have no choice but to wager his daughter's hand.
"If she actually liked you, the whole thing would be rather romantic," Jane quipped, once Ruan had finished his sorry tale. "Love at first sight, winning her hand --it's almost like something from a novel!"
"Yes, but as we have deduced Jane, my wife doesn't like me. Not even a little bit."
"Well, you could start by trying to make yourself more likable," she suggested brightly, "Honestly your Grace, I've never known a man try so hard to be so unpopular --when underneath your prickly exterior, you're ever so nice."
Ever so nice was not a phrase that was often used to describe the Duke of Everleigh, and while Ruan knew that he was often high-handed and imperious, he felt it was behaviour befitting of a man of his station.
"I am a Duke," he retorted, a little sullenly, "I can't spend my days mollycoddling people so that they don't feel intimidated by me."
"No," Jane seemed to be suppressing a smile as she watched his reaction to her suggestion, "But perhaps you could try not intimidating your wife? That might be a better tactic when dealing with matters of the heart. Good night, your Grace."
Ruan watched her slip down the dark corridor his gaze thoughtful. Jane Deveraux was an intelligent woman, and there was no denying that his current strategy of overwhelm and command was not winning him any affection from his estranged wife. Could a campaign of courtship win out instead? He frowned; roses and sweet words were not exactly his style, but as he opened the door to his bedroom, and spotted the empty bed, he reasoned he would try anything to win Olive over.