Page 81 of Lady Diana's Lost Lord

A flicker of sunlight through the vines straight across her eyes felt oddly like chastisement, like a click of the tongue and a subtle admonishment.Of course I am.

“I cannot imagine,” she said, “how it must have felt for you to make the choice you did. How it must have hurt to send her away. But I’m sure you know, now, that it was the best choice. You gave Ben the most precious gift, and because of that, I have the chance to love her, too. And we will. Every bit as much as you would have done. That is my promise to you.”

Perhaps it was only her imagination but she thought—she thought the breeze carried an approving sort of hum.

“And I just—I wanted to thank you. For choosing for her the best father a child could have. I think you must have known he would be.” Diana swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. “Hannah is always going to be our first daughter, our eldest,” she said. “Even when the new baby arrives—”

“The new baby?”

Diana whirled to see Ben and Hannah, hand in hand, buttoned into gloves and coats, standing there just beyond the steps of the pergola, breath frosting in the winter air. The plush, powdery snow had muffled their footsteps. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “It’s so early.”

“We came to wish Mama Grace a merry Christmas!” Hannah chirped from beneath the scarf that had been wrapped round her neck and over her mouth to shield her face from the cold.

“Thenew baby?” Ben prompted, brows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Well, I—I wasn’t certain,” Diana said, feeling a scarlet blush sweep over her face. At least, not until she’d finally realized it, after her fourth inconvenient bout of nausea at the scent of cooked eggs and the startling recognition that her courses weren’t merely late, they wereabsent. “I meant to tell you this evening. Are you…pleased?”

“I’mdelighted.” A massive grin swept across his face, replacing the shocked surprise, and he tugged Hannah along with him into the shelter of the pergola, folding her into his arms. “A new baby,” he said, tucking her head beneath his chin.

Hannah wrapped her arms around Diana’s waist. “Where’s the new baby?” she asked. “Can I see him?”

Ben buried his laugh in Diana’s hair. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “He’s not even born yet. But soon—” He stopped himself. “When?” he asked of Diana.

Not for months and months, yet. She wasn’t showing even a little. “Late summer, I think.” She set her hand upon the top of Hannah’s head, stroking her soft blond hair. “I’m sorry, darling. It’s going to be quite a long wait. But when it’s over, you’ll have a new baby brother or sister.”

Gleefully, Hannah bounced upon the balls of her feet, and she tore herself away, skittering across the pergola toward the plaque bearing Grace’s name. “Mama Grace,” she said. “We’re going to have ababy!” Her voice had edged toward a shriek of excitement just there toward the end, and it startled a robin perched in a nearby tree into flight. “Can I tell Grandpapa?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, when he wakes,” Ben said, and tapped her nose in gentle admonishment before she could pose the question which would naturally follow. “And, no, we’re not going to wake him at this hour. He’s cranky before he’s had his morning tea.”

More like afternoon tea. Diana had rarely known him to rise before noon. But when he did, and he’d had his tea, she knew that he, too, would be pleased. They still had strides to make, she thought. But these last few months had been pleasant ones, even in the close quarters they had been sharing. First in the London townhouse, and now, more recently, the family wing of the manor. The rest was still under renovation—and would be, likely for several more years. Much like their family, it was a work in progress.

The bond, while fragile still, was growing. Day by day, bit by bit, they were filling a house that had been empty too long with love. It wasn’t the quiet, simple life that Ben had once envisioned. Probably it never would be.

It was something better. Something that stretched past the bounds of mere imagination and inscribed itself onto one’s soul. Love stitched on handkerchiefs and on hearts. Happiness held right in the palm of her hand, made real at last. A paradise that they had created for themselves right here in the heart of Hertfordshire.

For now, it was a small one. But it would grow—with renovations and repairs, with new babies and friends and family. With Seasons in London and holidays at home.

And, oh,it was going to be grand.