Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(38)

Good enough?

Her view explained why she was so comfortable to be here, with him in her bedroom. It made it clear that the woman who jilted him was still the woman of his heart. The truth of it unfolded slowly inside him, the way dye colors water: first just a bright drop, then spreading in every direction.

He loved her; he still loved her; he’d never stopped loving her.

Not that she had any idea. His future wife—if he could persuade her to consider him again—was damned unobservant. He’d have to look out for her.

For the moment, Diana was in his lap, smelling like honey and lemon. She was safe and warm in his arms.

“If we’re not lovers, what are we?” he asked.

“Friends,” she said, with such certitude that he knew that she’d given it thought. “You need a friend to take care of you right now. Alaric would do it, if he were here. Or Horatius. Or Parth—I saw him at Christmas and I liked him so much.”

North grunted. Was her voice particularly animated when she talked of Parth? He had the feeling she had ruled out marriage to the peerage, but Parth wasn’t a member of polite society.

Parth probably owned most of England by now, but he stayed away from anything smelling of the ton.

Smart man.

Not the right man for Diana, however. North’s arms tightened around her. “This is so improper,” she said, with a little squeak. “I wouldn’t allow it to happen, North, except for you . . .”

“I can’t sleep,” North said, ruthlessly using the truth against her. “You are helping. Alaric could scarcely curl up in my lap, could he?”

“You slept last night, with no one in your lap,” she pointed out with a gurgle of laughter.

“I’m going to sleep even better tonight,” he said. “Talking of our past, tell me of our betrothal party.”

“What of it?” She didn’t sound eager to elaborate. “It was lovely. Your parents were so kind.”

“But your sister had just died. Were you able to go to her funeral?”

She shook her head, and he felt warm breath on his neck as she sighed. “My mother insisted that I continue on to Lindow Castle, since Lady Gray, Lavinia’s mother, could act as my chaperone.”

“Even if your mother had kept Godfrey’s existence to herself, why not explain that one of her daughters had passed away? The wedding might have been put off for six months, or we could have made it a small affair since you would have been in mourning.”

“Perhaps she would have, if we had been a real couple.”

North had thought they were a real couple. He still thought so.

“We would indeed have gone into mourning, and you were likely to find out about Rose’s son,” Diana said wearily. “I would be tainted by his existence. As my mother saw it, you might use it, at some point during the mourning period, as grounds to break our engagement.”

“Why would your mother question my honor?” he said, hardness entering his voice.

She was silent.

“Diana.”

“You were infatuated with the perfect duchess-to-be that she presented you with. That wasn’t real; it wasn’t me. She and I both knew it. The longer we allowed the betrothal to carry on, the more likely you would discover the truth.”

He did snort this time.

“You had purchased a special license,” she said softly.

North frowned. Hair had fallen over her eyes and she was tracing a circle round and round on his chest. “How did you know that?”

She took a deep breath. “My mother bribed Boodle. She knew everything you did. She knew when you asked your stepmother to give you your grandmother’s ring. On the morning you asked me to marry you, I put on a special dress, a gown fit for a duchess, with real pearls sewn among the embroidery. Your valet had sent a messenger two hours earlier.”

North was stunned into silence.

“I’m sorry. But my mother was not the only one. Boodle likely took bribes from three or four other women who wanted their daughters to be duchesses, and accordingly kept track of your daily activities—if only to make certain that they accepted the same invitations you did.”

North waited to feel angry, but he couldn’t muster the emotion. “Did my purchase of a special license frighten you?”

“I had strict instructions,” she said in a low voice. “If you brought up the special license, I was to eagerly agree. It felt wrong, and every hour it felt worse. I think I went a bit mad.” She was tracing circles again. “There was no one to mourn Rose, so my mother didn’t hold a funeral for her.”

“Except for you,” North said, tightening his arms. “Except for you, Diana. No wonder you ran away. I can’t even remember the first week after Horatius died. The family hardly slept. Someone was always crying somewhere.”

“You are so lucky to have your family,” Diana said, her voice falling to a whisper. “Even if Horatius didn’t live very long, he was lucky too.”

“I kept thinking that it must be a jest,” North said. “I hoped I would wake up to find him strutting around the drawing room, provoking Aunt Knowe to snap her fan at him.”

“I know,” Diana said. Then: “I’m afraid marriage to you became mixed up in my mind with grief for Rose.”