Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(94)

She looked at him, a smile wobbling on her lips.

“Will you marry me, Diana Belgrave? For better, for worse? In the face of illegitimate relatives and sleepless nights? I love you. I fell in love with you at first sight. I never stopped loving you, and I never shall.”

Diana held out her left hand. He slid the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. “The only thing I’m not afraid of failing at is loving you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Loving you is like breathing.”

North arrowed his fingers into her hair and it spilled over his hands. “We needn’t ever attend balls or pay morning calls.”

Diana smiled, peaceful joy in her eyes. “You promised Italy and babies.”

“You’re mine, now,” North said. “No running away, Diana.”

She shook her head. “I will never leave you again. I was so angry at Rose for dying that it made me afraid to love so deeply again. But I trust you.”

“You trust me to stay alive?” He kissed her gently. “I can’t promise to die after you, Diana. But I will love you until the moment I take my final breath. And if I go before you, I pray that your face is the last thing I see before I close my eyes. That sight will hold me until we meet again.”

Blinding joy swirled through Diana, mixing with desire, and trust, and love. An hour later, she came back to herself, sweaty, pleasure-drenched. Her mind was foggy, but one question wouldn’t go away. She rolled on her side and propped herself up on her elbow.

North was lying on his back, looking like a man who had everything he wanted in life. One arm was behind his head and the other hand was absently caressing the curve of Diana’s hip.

“We’ll go to Rome first,” he said.

“North,” she asked, “how did you manage to arrive at the Beetle & Cheese just when I needed you?”

Her fiancé’s smile was still rare, and the sight of it lifted Diana’s heart. “I thought I timed it perfectly.”

“You were waiting outside, weren’t you!” she cried.

“It’s possible.” He stole another kiss. “You’re mine, Diana. I shall be ruthless in protecting you. But I will never crush you.”

“You waited outside to see if I got in trouble?” Laughter poured out of her.

“If you had struck that drunk in the eye, I would have waited longer,” he said. “I must teach you how to fell a man with a tankard.”

Diana leaned over, and his large hands lifted her onto his body. She shivered, enjoying the way her senses sparked to life. “May I request another demonstration of your concern for my happiness?”

“Yes,” he said, keeping it simple.





Chapter Twenty-seven





Lindow Castle

June 4, 1780

The following day



“Mother, I have some terrible news,” Lavinia said, once she had greeted Lady Gray and given her a pretty hat from Manchester.

Her mother put down the hat and dropped into her chair. “I know it already.”

“You do?”

“Diana Belgrave has stolen Lord Roland from under your very nose. At this rate, you will be nothing more than an old maid, and my horrid cousin will have a duchess as a daughter!”

“I was not referring to Diana,” Lavinia said.

Her mother put a drop of Dr. Robert’s Robust Formula on her tongue. “What could be more important than the fact my daughter has bungled yet another chance to become a duchess?” She sighed and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. “What I would do without these drops for my poor nerves, I really don’t know.”

“My pearls have been stolen,” Lavinia said bluntly. “The string I have are made of paste. My ruby earrings are worthless glass.”

Her mother didn’t respond or open her eyes. Lavinia picked up her hand. “Do you understand, Mother? I’m almost certain that your jewelry will be found to be counterfeit as well.”

“Oh, they’re long gone,” her mother said, still not opening her eyes.

Lavinia’s mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“I’ll not forgive you for many a month for allowing Lord Roland to slip back into Diana’s clutches,” her mother said fretfully. “I thought the emeralds would give us time, but you were too selfish to choose one of those Frenchmen.”

“Emeralds? What do you mean by that?” Lavinia asked. Neither of them had emeralds, to the best of her—

A terrible thought occurred to her. “Diana’s emerald necklace,” she breathed, feeling as if someone had struck her hard. “You took it? You—you sold it?”

Lady Gray sniffed, opened her eyes, and blinked at Lavinia. “How do you think we survived? It was only because we lived in France that I was able to keep the country house and the townhouse. We have no money.”

She said it as casually as one might remark on the lack of good weather.

“What do you mean, we have no money?” Lavinia cried, springing to her feet.

Lady Gray waved her vinaigrette. “I mean just that,” she said, in a familiar, tragic tone. Except this time, she wasn’t complaining about coddled eggs or a chilly breeze. “We have no money. We are destitute.”

“What happened? Did you—did someone persuade you into an improvident investment?”