He gave her a wry smile. ‘In a way, I should feel grateful for Blankford’s nefarious scheme. If you hadn’t needed to marshal every possible resource to protect your son, you’d probably never had confided in me—would you?’
‘No,’ she admitted, knowing it was true. Only desperation had pushed her to reveal the humiliating truth about her marriage that she would otherwise have carefully hidden.
‘You would have pleasured me, held your innermost self aloof, and slipped away.’ He shook his head. ‘It scares me to think how close I came to losing you again without ever knowing you.’
‘If Blankford ends up arm-wrestling you in the mud of a public scandal, you may be less sanguine about my asking for your help,’ she retorted.
‘Never,’ he exclaimed, kissing her hands. ‘I’m glad to assist you. Glad that you are allowing me to act for you. I can well imagine, after being forced and coerced and bullied for so long, it’s hard to trust anyone but yourself.’
He gazed at her, an oddly expectant look on his face. Was he hoping she would deny it, assert that she was completely comfortable relying on him?
Much as she appreciated his efforts, she could not in honesty tell him that. Uncertain what to reply, she said, ‘So now, we wait?’
The hopeful look faded from his eyes—and she feared she’d disappointed him. Tacitly accepting her evasion, however, he confirmed, ‘Now, we wait. Will promised to come report as soon as possible. We may also have a visit from his wife, Elodie. The Frenchwoman who, you may remember, embroiled Max in the scandal that ruined his diplomatic career. Somewhere along the way from Vienna back to England, Will fell in love with her.’
‘She must be quite a lady to hold Will’s interest,’ Diana said, grateful that he’d moved the conversation to less personal matters. ‘As I recall, women always found him fascinating, and though he returned the favour, he was as fickle as the wind.’
‘Yes, it’s quite a love story, which I’ll let her tell you when she visits. She also has a son a bit younger than James. I thought he’d enjoy having a playmate.’
‘I know he would! It’s so kind of you to think of him.’
‘It’s high time someone was kind to you both.’
Diana shook her head ruefully. ‘Your mother seems to think so, too. Sometimes I feel I’m living in a dream! Paints and brushes at hand, an excellent pianoforte to play whenever I like, a library full of books to explore. Your mother shall be tossing me out of the house before long because I’m running through so many candles, staying up late to read. I keep thinking that one morning, I’ll wake up and all this will vanish.’
‘Be assured it will not.’ He lifted her chin so she had to meet his gaze. ‘The future is yours to determine, Diana. You’ll never be constrained again.’
Though she still found it difficult to express her feelings, she made herself say, ‘No matter how this turns out, I’ll never forget it was you who thought to bring me the first paints I’d touched in seven years. You who lured me back to the piano bench. You who escorted me to the library at Barton Abbey and invited me to sample it.’
He shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe you existed for years without books, paints, music. How dull it must have been, with nothing to do all day but manage that vast house.’
She laughed shortly as another flood of bitter memories engulfed her. ‘I didn’t even do that.’
He raised his eyebrows and, flushing, she waved a dismissive hand, not wanting to admit the painful truth.
‘Won’t you explain, Diana? I want to understand. And I think, to move beyond the past, you must face it. I want to help. Won’t you let me?’
Eight years of instinct pressed her to retreat, fall silent. But after a brief internal struggle, the sympathy in his gaze—and the memory of the sweet peace she’d found after confessing her dilemma about James—overcame her reserve.
Slowly she began. ‘The Duke’s first wife retained the sympathy of the staff, the housekeeper in particular. I admit, I made no attempt to take over the reins, but it probably would have been very difficult to pry them away, even had I wanted to.’
‘Having spoken to Blankford, I can well imagine the hostility of anyone loyal to his mother. How did you occupy your time, then?’
‘I was permitted needlework, since I expressed no fondness for it, and making garments for the poor was an approved occupation for the Duchess. I walked around the rooms, the Long Gallery, the garden. I looked—at the garden, the woods, the buildings, the tapestries, evaluating their textures and colours, imagining what paints I would blend to reproduce their images, were I ever to paint again. I examined such grounds as I was permitted to stroll, noting plants I’d found with my father, ones he’d illustrated for his books and lectures.’
Once begun, she couldn’t seem to halt the flood of words. ‘I could sit or stand for hours, no doubt to the puzzlement of whichever menial had been assigned to trail me, listening in my head to Papa’s analysis. Or in the house, I’d stare at some object, evaluating its shape in geometric terms, figuring how I would position it for sketching, where to place the lines of shading. Observed it as the light playing over it changed with the advancing hour, watching how it changed those patterns. Sometimes, if I passed by a book I’d enjoyed, I’d try to recall as much of its prose or verse as I could. And I spent a great deal of time training myself not to feel, or to at least be able to mask my emotions enough that he could not read my countenance and use my reactions against me. Quite an interesting and useful life,’ she concluded bitterly.
In the next instant, anxiety seized her. Whatever had induced her to blather on so? Alastair must think her shallow, cowardly, despicable for allowing herself to exist in such a mocking echo of a life.
Wary, she looked up to see him studying her, but rather than disgust and condemnation, she read compassion in his gaze. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, lifting her hand to his lips for a kiss. ‘Though I hesitate even to give such facile advice, you must try to leave all that behind you.’
For a moment, the relief that she had not alienated him held her speechless. ‘I am trying,’ she managed at length. ‘After all those years at Graveston Court, Barton Abbey seems a wonderland. Like a starving man invited to a banquet, I hardly know what delight to taste first.’
He smiled. ‘I’m so glad you are finding it so. But are you allowing yourself to feel delight?’
She nodded. ‘I am, a little. It’s still hard to believe that the things that bring me pleasure won’t suddenly disappear again. But...I’m trying to believe it. Or I will, once all this is over.’
‘Believe it, and believe also that it will soon be over. And then...’
Diana tensed. Would Alastair tell her what he envisaged for their future? Would he gently let her go—or ask her to remain his mistress? If he wanted that and more, could she possibly give him an answer now?
A knock sounded at the door, followed by the entrance of Mrs Ransleigh. ‘I’m not disturbing you, I hope? Wendell just let me know you’d returned.’
‘Not at all,’ Diana told her, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed by the interruption. She didn’t want to think of a future without Alastair—but she wasn’t sure, damaged as she still was, what she could offer him, beyond a temporary passion.
Would that be enough?
Alastair rose to give his mother a hug. ‘Diana tells me you’ve been taking good care of her and James.’
‘Indeed she is,’ Diana confirmed.
‘I’m so much enjoying her stay! James is delightful, and I’ve been grateful for her companionship. I even compelled her to play for me in the evening. I’ve missed hearing the pianoforte, with both your sisters now gone.’ Mrs Ransleigh gave her a fond look. ‘It’s almost like having a daughter at home again. I must inform you, I’ve given her and James the run of house and invited them to stay as lo
ng as they like. And once this matter is resolved and it’s safe for Diana to establish her own residence, I hope they will return to visit often.’
‘Of course I approve.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Ransleigh,’ Diana said, touched by her kindness. ‘It’s been a long time since I lived with my father and felt like part of a family. It’s something I very much wanted James to experience. I’ll be forever grateful for your friendship.’
‘As I esteem yours! But now, I must go check on dinner. I’m so glad you’re safely home, Alastair. Will I see you both at table?
‘Very good,’ she said as they both nodded. ‘I’ll leave you to your chat. No naughtiness, now!’ she added with a smile, waving a finger at them.
At the memory of the torrid kiss they’d shared, Diana blushed—and noted that Alastair’s face reddened, too. ‘I made you a promise, Mama, and I won’t break it...no matter how tempting it might be.’
‘You’d better figure out how you’ll deal with it later,’ came the enigmatic reply as with a wave of her fingers, Mrs Ransleigh glided out through the door.
Alastair looked back at her. ‘I’d better go change out of my dirt. Mama isn’t as much a stickler as my uncle, but she’d still not appreciate me leaving mud on her dining-room carpet.’
He bent to kiss her fingers, sending another sizzle of sensation through her. ‘Mama’s right. We will have to figure out what to do about this later, you know.’
Both delight and dread made her stomach churn. ‘I know.’
‘I won’t tease you now, though. I’ll see you at dinner.’
Diana watched him go. Their physical bond was, without question, as strong as ever. Would that be enough? And how long would it last?
She was trying hard not to depend on support which, once she was safe again, could well be withdrawn. She was trying not to hunger for the company of a man who, after having a husband who did everything possible to control, coerce, and deprive her, made it his task to indulge her, expand her horizons, and give her the freedom to choose her own destiny.
With complete freedom, what would that be?
She simply didn’t know. She was, as she’d assured Alastair, just beginning to allow herself to experience happiness, while a love for her son, natural and unforced, seemed to increase with each interlude they spent together.
But she was still a long way from recovering from years of repressing all feeling, nor had she exorcised the demons left from her late husband’s abuse. She’d shown she could be a mistress. She was not at all sure she could be more.
Well, she’d not tease herself either. For now, she must wait with what patience she could muster for resolution of the challenge from Graveston. Only then would she figure out what came next.
Chapter Nineteen
Two weeks later, the early morning sun a smouldering suggestion on the eastern horizon, Alastair was grabbing an early breakfast when Diana walked in.
Seeing him, she halted, her face lighting with a smile that made his heart swell in his chest.
‘I thought you’d be gone by now. Your mother said last night you were meeting Hutchens today to visit some of the outlying farms.’
‘Yes, and to arrange some assistance for one of the tenants. With crops about ready for harvest, the poor fellow fell off his barn roof and broke a leg. Hutchens has already talked with some of neighbours; today we’ll arrange a schedule so they can work together to get all the fields harvested.’
‘Will you be away the whole day?’ she asked as she poured herself some coffee.
Alastair hoped he wasn’t imagining the wistfulness in her tone. ‘Much of it. What do you have planned?’
‘The bouquets in the rooms need refreshing. I’ll scour the cutting garden, then take James for a long tromp through the fields and see what plants we can find to augment them.’
Alastair smiled, remembering all the exploring through the woods and fields he’d done with his cousins. ‘I’m sure he’ll enjoy that. Barton Abbey is a wonderful place for an adventuresome boy.’
She nodded. ‘Especially when he can bring his new puppy. I enjoy the walks, too. When we come across some interesting specimen, it recalls to me the particular plant-hunting expedition during which Papa first showed it to me. How he taught me to appreciate the lines and shapes of nature, as well as her colours. It’s like getting a small part of myself back.’
‘You’ll bring your sketchbook?’
‘Yes. James reminds me of Papa, too. It’s not just a mother’s prejudiced eye—he has a real knack for drawing. He seems to enjoy spending the time with me, sketching.’ She sighed. ‘He’s missed out on so many simple things. Thanks to you, I’m beginning to make it up to him.’
‘No, it’s thanks to you, for thinking of them,’ he corrected. ‘You are a good mother, Diana.’
‘I’m trying to be.’ As her gaze traced his face, lingering on his lips, he felt heat rise within him.
She must have felt it, too, for she gave a little sigh. ‘I am trying hard to be good—in many ways.’
His thoughts flew immediately to intimacy, and he had to suppress a groan. ‘As are we both.’ Then he grinned. ‘I’d love to be “good” to you in a most different way, but that will be for later.’
‘Oh, I hope so! Anticipation makes the heart grow fonder?’
‘And other things,’ he muttered. He rose and walked to her chair, fighting the urge to kiss her. She placed her hand on top of his, tracing the edge of his palm with her fingertip, setting his senses simmering, sparking his barely banked desire into flame.
‘Witch,’ he murmured when he could speak again.
‘Wizard,’ she replied, a little hitch in her voice. ‘Sometimes doing the honourable thing is beastly difficult.’
‘It won’t be for much longer, sweeting. Once you are protected, settled with what is due you and James, we can move forward—to whatever you want.’
To his surprise, rather than looking relieved, her face clouded. ‘I hope everything will transpire as you envisage it.’
‘I’ll never let you be hurt. You believe that, don’t you, Diana?’ He tilted her face up to gaze at him. ‘I know with James in danger, you can’t help worrying. But...try to be easy, won’t you?’
She sighed. ‘I will try. And I do trust you.’
He ought to go...but the desire to spend time with her while he could—and ease her apprehension—made him linger. ‘I don’t need to meet with Hutchens until later. How about I join you and James on your walk?’
‘Do you have the time? I don’t wish to pull you from your work.’
‘I can spare an hour. And I know a few places an adventurous boy would enjoy visiting.’
To his delight, she chuckled, smoothing the worried creases from her brow. ‘I’m sure you do! James would love to have you join us. He told me you’ve stopped by the nursery and played soldiers with him several times, which has quite won him over. I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.’
‘I enjoy spending time with him. He reminds me of Robbie.’
‘Let me fetch him, then.’
‘Finish your breakfast and we’ll go up together.’
* * *
And so, after she’d nibbled her toast and sipped her coffee, they left the breakfast room and headed towards the nursery. As they climbed the stairs, Alastair felt an odd sense of déjà vu.
So it should have been, he and Diana going up together to fetch their son.
Too late for that, he thought, hauling back on the reins of his fantasy. And too soon yet, he reminded himself, to picture anything for the future.
As Diana had predicted, James was delighted to add him to their excursion. ‘Are we going to explore the gatehouse, like you promised?’ James asked after they’d descended the stairs and exited the house.
&n
bsp; ‘We’ll save that for a rainy day,’ he replied, hoping they would be at Barton Abbey long enough for him to make good on his pledge. ‘It’s so lovely this morning, I thought we’d go to another special place.’
‘Are we going to the woods?’ James asked, skipping along beside him. ‘Mama took me to the wheat field, but she wouldn’t let me go all the way to the trees.’
‘The woods are closer if you go this way, through the kitchen gardens,’ he told them as he opened a gate into the walled enclosure.
‘Mama and I walked here already,’ James informed him. ‘We picked the plants with smelly leaves.’
‘The ones with fragrant leaves,’ Diana corrected. ‘Lavender, mint and rosemary, to add some scent to the bouquets,’ she explained to Alastair.
Within a few moments, they’d traversed the neat arrangement of symmetrical beds filled with herbs and vegetables and reached the gate at the other side. Opening it, Alastair pointed to a path that set off into the woods beyond a border of shrubs. ‘We’re going that way.’
‘What’s there?’ James asked. ‘A treasure?’
‘Of a sort,’ Alastair replied. ‘You’ll see.’
‘Let’s hurry!’ James cried, grabbing his hand and urging him forward.
‘Steady on, wait for your mama,’ Alastair said with a laugh. ‘Ladies must walk at a more dignified pace. Their long skirts hinder them, you see.’
‘Do they?’ Diana said. ‘Well, not this lady.’ Raising her hem above her ankles, she took off at a trot while James, giggling, sped after her.
Chuckling himself, Alastair followed.
The trail twisted and turned among the trees before, several minutes later, it opened into a clearing. As they approached, the muted gurgle of water over stone announced the presence of a brook at the far side.
James rushed over. ‘Mama, how pretty the water is! Can I go in?’
‘Not yet,’ Alastair said. ‘First we need to find the treasure, and you’ll frighten it away if you splash.’
Putting a finger to his lips to signal the child to silence, he took his hand and led him along the bank to where the stream broadened into a shallow pool. Along its edges, several frogs swam lazily.
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