Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(8)

“As for Artie’s manners, I’m afraid that she has the concentration of a canary and the temper of an irritated bull,” Diana said. “I did teach her to curtsy, but her legs are too plump to bend correctly.”

“Your description would cover all my father’s children at that age,” North observed.

Diana clasped her hands behind her back and looked him straight in the eyes. “I haven’t slept for many a night thinking how dishonest I have been to you, your family, and the household, all of whom have been nothing but kind to me.”

North was conscious that he didn’t like the way she referred to him, as if he were an elderly uncle, perhaps. A kindly parishioner. “What’s done is done,” he said. “But now—”

“This is why I never come to the nursery!” His aunt, Lady Knowe, appeared in the doorway, hand on her heart, glancing around the room. “Is that a chamber pot on its side? Yes, it is,” she answered herself. “And is that one of my beloved nephews, returned from dangerous shores and not come to pay me his respects? Why, yes, it is!”

North grinned and strode over to gather his aunt into a hug. Lady Knowe was tall and broad-shouldered, with an unfortunate resemblance to her twin brother, the duke. Those who loved her boisterous kindness didn’t give a fig about her noble nose. “I meant to change out of my traveling dirt before greeting you, Aunt Knowe.”

She put her hands on his cheeks and looked him in the eyes. “Are you sound in limb and mind, my dear?”

“Yes,” he said, keeping it short, because he hadn’t lost a limb, but he’d lost something. Not his mind; at least not entirely. His ability to sleep was gone. His enjoyment of food and women.

His aunt’s hands fell from his face. “It’s a fruitless war, and I’m confounded that the asses in Parliament can’t see it. Your father has done his best to persuade them, but to no avail.”

North had made his feelings clear to the Ministry when he sold out. But the fools he spoke to hadn’t spent time in the colonies. They didn’t understand how committed to freedom American soldiers were, nor how wily their general was. Far away from the blood and smoke of battle, a herd of asses—to borrow his aunt’s word—arranged and rearranged regiments with all the concern of boys playing with tin soldiers.

“At least you’re out of it,” his aunt said, wrinkling her nose. “Diana, my dear, what is that appalling odor?”

“I apologize, my lady,” Diana said, dropping into a deep curtsy.

Before he thought about it, North reached out and pulled her upright. “Stop.”

She turned a little pink. “I am a member of the household.”

“No, you are not,” he stated. While he was at it, he plucked off the large muslin cap that belonged belowstairs, not on a lady’s head. “Whether or not you have spent an inordinate amount of time in the nursery, you will not address my aunt—or Prism, for that matter—as if you were a servant.”

“I am a servant.”

At the same moment, Lady Knowe said, “She’s as stubborn as a mule, North. You won’t have any more luck than I did.”

North frowned at Diana. “I refuse to allow my fian—my former fiancée to become part of the household.”

“I already am,” Diana said. “Everyone is used to it.”

“That’s not quite true,” Lady Knowe put in. “If you haven’t yet heard Boodle’s thoughts on the subject, North, you will.”

“You cannot remain in this position,” he said, pointing out the obvious.

An expression passed Diana’s eyes so quickly that he couldn’t read it. “I agree. And I’m sorry.”

What was that, the seventh time she’d apologized? He had the feeling she would happily keep repeating it all day.

“I do believe that Diana worries she broke your heart, North,” his aunt said, her eyes twinkling.

“Allow me to reassure you; I doubt I have that capacity,” he said, adding wryly, “My consequence was dented, which was probably beneficial for my character.”

“Undoubtedly,” his aunt said, chuckling.

Surprising him again, Diana laughed as well. “I lost any consequence I had the day I donned that cap, and I truly believe it’s been good for my soul. I just wish that I had been honest about Godfrey.”

North was trying to decide whether Godfrey was the man with whom Diana consorted, or the boy she hadn’t introduced him to, when his aunt changed the subject.

“This room is a disgrace,” she announced. “North, I should like you to escort me to my chamber, after which you must change out of your travel-stained clothing. I haven’t seen you so disheveled since Alaric tipped you into the horse trough.” She turned to Diana. “He was wearing the family suit of armor, the one that lurks quietly in a corner of the entrance hall.”

“I’m impressed,” Diana said to North. “It looks as if it’d be very difficult to walk in.”

“More so now that its joints have rusted,” his aunt said. “I shall ask Prism to send up a maid immediately, Diana. My nephew is immaculate compared to the hearth rug.”

“Thank you,” Diana said, dropping a curtsy. “I curtsied to Lady Knowe when I was a visitor to the castle,” she said, in response to North’s scowl.