Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(23)

“I dine with you, Lady Knowe, when there is no one else in the castle. You and Lord Roland have much to discuss, I’m certain.”

North’s jaw tightened. He might have been grinding his teeth.

“I suppose I can’t force you,” Lady Knowe said, disappointed.

North didn’t say anything, merely bowed in farewell. But the way his eyes glinted when she addressed him as “Lord Roland,” and when she declined to join them for dinner?

She had a feeling that her wish had just come true: She’d seen North in a rage.

But she had done the right thing.

She had disliked North when they first met, because he was so stern and courtly. If he had revealed the raw masculinity he’d displayed tonight, she would not have fled their betrothal party.

All the same, their marriage wouldn’t have been a success, because he had been attracted to a false version of her. From his own description, he chose a perfect lady, on the basis of her wig and clothing.

They were ill-matched, like white and black chess pieces trying to play on the same side.

She was happy as a servant, pleased to earn a wage, and she had to preserve her sense of contentedness. The evening had been enjoyable, but the experience was dangerously seductive.

No more North.





Chapter Five





Later that night, in the castle kitchens



“What on earth are you doing here?”

Diana’s voice startled him. North had just emerged from the pantry into the moonlit kitchen to find her standing in the doorway, a tray in her hands. He felt such a leap of desire that it was a good thing his shirt was hanging over his breeches.

“Reminding myself of the castle,” he said. “Why didn’t you summon a footman to fetch that tray?”

She glanced down as if she’d forgotten what she held. “I was setting the schoolroom to rights.”

“At this hour?”

“It’s my responsibility.” She wore a thick flannel wrapper tied tightly around her waist. Her copper hair was bound in a braid that fell over her shoulder.

“It’s well after midnight,” he pointed out.

“Truth to tell, I forgot to put the schoolroom in order, and had to get out of bed when I remembered.” She gave him a lopsided smile. “I was thinking over what I ought to have said to you before dinner, the way one does.”

Deep in his body, almost in his bones, he felt one word, over and over. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Ridiculous. The lady had soundly rejected him.

He leaned back against the battered wooden table that ran the length of the kitchen and crossed his legs before him. “What should you have said?” He kept his tone pleasant, as if he didn’t give a damn about anything that had happened between them.

“I was so distraught over Rose’s death . . . that’s why I didn’t write you a note when I ran away.”

North didn’t like hearing sadness in her voice. He shrugged. “If it ever happens again, just remember that when jilting a man, a woman explains her motives in writing.”

“There’s a protocol?” A smile eased her face. “Put it down to my poor education.” She set the tray down on the kitchen table. “I am rubbish at making change, bathing a baby, jilting a man.”

He straightened, because her smile made him even harder, and his breeches were pulling uncomfortably. “You really don’t know how to make change?”

It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but she looked to be turning pink. “I can make a pressed-flower arrangement, and play the harp. My mother felt strongly that practical activities should be performed by servants, and never taught to ladies.”

“Was the art of jilting too practical to learn?” he asked, enjoying the way Diana’s lower lip was deeper in the middle, echoing her heart-shaped face.

“Actually, I wish someone had taught me the art of running away,” she said, with a wary smile. “I was such a fool. I took nothing with me but a hatbox.”

“What was in the hatbox?”

“A chemise, some money, a pair of gloves. I’m not sure why I brought the gloves along. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“How much money did you have?”

“A little more than a pound.” She grimaced, and a streak of protectiveness went through him. “I had spent most of my pin money on gifts for my cousin Lavinia and Willa Ffynche, your sister-in-law.”

“You fled the castle with one pound?” The dismay he felt was unnervingly deep.

“I was that much of a fool,” she admitted. “Luckily, I was wearing emerald earrings. I gave one to the innkeeper in Mobberley, and he bought me a ticket on the post all the way to London.”

“I’ll bet he did,” North said, emotion boiling under his breastbone. “Your earring was undoubtedly worth far more than a ticket. Where did you go after you arrived in London? I went straight to your mother’s house. You were not there, and I had the pleasure of telling Mrs. Belgrave of your flight.”

“I know! It must have been awful. I’m so—”

He held up a hand.

“I had gone directly to the Foundling Hospital to look for Godfrey,” Diana said. With a shake of her head, she added, “My mother had sent money with him, so he could be apprenticed at the proper age.”