Page 16

CHAPTER NINE

F or all the restrictions on contact between ladies and gentlemen, even those engaged to marry, Society allowed a brief visit outside Gunter’s Tea Shop. Diana had taken advantage of this fact to ask Albion to meet her at the famed site along Berkeley Square two days later.

Isaac, her coachman, groom, and chaperone for the day, sat atop the tall box seat, guiding her father’s matching hackney horses in that direction. Father had allowed her to use the lightweight barouche today, top unfolded so she might savor the fair weather to see a “friend.”

That she had not disclosed her friend’s identity was an omission rather than a fib, or so Diana had reasoned.

Besides, since she returned from Philadelphia, Tobias Stewart’s interest in his eldest daughter was peripheral at best, and he seemed happy enough to have her out of the townhouse for the afternoon.

As soon as they halted under a shaded grove of maple trees opposite the shop, she spotted Albion.

He had already dismounted from a sleek bay blood horse, who shook out his long black mane and snorted through thick nostrils at the inconvenience.

He was waiting by the black iron railing that served as a respectable border between the ladies in their carriages and the men waiting for them on the grass.

Unsurprisingly, her fiancé stood out among the half-dozen ung gentlemen, taller by a head and so broad across the shoulders that she swore one could squeeze two of the brawniest human men into Albie’s impressive self.

And Albie’s valet had set his imposing form to admirable perfection in a muslin shirt, a thickly embroidered golden waistcoat, and a dark brown single-breasted jacket with tails.

To complete the ensemble, he bore his customary white silk cravat and cufflinks adorned with sparkling Orcan gems.

He held a pistachio fromage glacé in each hand, swathed in leather gloves that gleamed with lavish expense. When Isaac hopped off the box seat to fuss with the horses, Albie balanced the pewter cups as he sped toward the barouche.

“Lady Diana!” He handed her one of the glacés, smiling broadly. “Or Daisy, if I may be so bold.”

“You may be as bold as you think appropriate, Lord Albie.”

“What a pleasure. You look positively radiant.” He raised his voice as though to declare his affection for all the world to hear, or at least the other gentlemen who had fetched ices for their ladies. “None can compare to your beauty, my dear one. I vouch it chases all other thoughts from my mind.”

Diana tried to bask in the compliment, though she had doubts about her carriage attire: a light turquoise dress, long sleeves full around her upper arms, with a modest lace ruff.

Lillian once told her the Calamine shade flattered her hair and complexion.

However, peeking at the other women, she doubted the color was in fashion this season.

Nor had she thought to bring a parasol to twirl flirtatiously, but only her oyster-shell poke bonnet, trimmed with ribbon.

While she fretted over her ensemble, Albion took advantage of the pause in conversation to deliver the other glacé.

Isaac had been sneaking covetous glances at the colorful ices as gentlemen and formal servers from Gunter’s alike delivered them to the waiting ladies and seemed pleased as punch to accept one.

“You purchased nothing for yourself?” Diana asked when Albie returned to the side of the barouche. She positioned her spoon on the edge of her cup, twirling it around the delightful green mound of pistachio. “It’s delicious. I assure you.”

As she dipped the spoon into the glacé and gave it a taste, his gaze traveled to her lips.

“I can see as much,” he said in a low, melodious rumble, far different from its timbre when he sang the praises of her beauty a few minutes before.

A pleasant shiver danced across her shoulders. Did she dare allow him to help her from the barouche? He would lift her as though she were light as a feather. And she had a sudden urge to run her fingers along the horns that curled up and over his head to learn their texture.

Everything was perfectly proper. Still, she was glad her bonnet’s wide brim limited her peripheral vision, granting the illusion of privacy. At least she hadn’t spilled anything on her carriage dress. Not yet, anyway. She had chosen the thick custard ice, thinking it less likely to drip.

“Might you indulge a few questions?” she said.”So that I might better prepare for our nuptials?”

Albion breathed a sigh of what sounded like relief. “I thought you may have summoned me here to tell me you were having second thoughts. To break my heart, if you will.”

“Oh, no.” Diana turned to meet his gold-amber eyes and then looked shyly away to focus on the ice. “Nothing of the sort. Are you nervous?”

“Natural in a bridegroom, is it not? You’re nervous as well, I take it?”

“Natural in a bride, is it not?”

He let out a stiff laugh. “I hope we will feel less uneasy in one another’s company soon enough.”

“We will.” Diana hesitated, letting the sweet pistachio melt on her tongue. Despite his honeyed words, she remained convinced that if Albion considered the situation for too long, he would question the wisdom of marrying a woman plagued by scandal.

“Do couples divorce in the Hidden Realm?” she asked.

“Blazes!” She thought hurt flashed in his eyes before they resumed their customary teasing twinkle. “We aren’t even married yet.”

Thank heavens the poke bonnet shielded her face from his view.

Her cheeks were burning. She hadn’t intended to express herself with such candor.

Diana only wanted to know if he would feel comfortable living separate lives at some point.

That she could make him understand she would never become a burden to him.

But it was difficult to address such serious issues plainly when sunshine dappled the lawn, and the slender tree branches moved listlessly in the light breeze. So she kept her tone cheeky.

“Come now. It is a valid question. I want to get better acquainted with your customs.”

“In the Hidden Realm, couples discuss the state of their partnership at regular intervals. No one remains in a romantic relationship but by choice. If either partner chooses to leave? I suppose it is closer to an annulment in England, although the only requirement is that the partners request it. As my wife, you will learn much more. Before you settle down for an ordinary life as a married woman.”

“Settle? Ordinary? What nasty words.”

“I should never have used them, even in jest,” he agreed. “You no doubt shall take your place in Society as a fine lady and pursue noble interests.”

“I intend to pursue my interests as a wedded woman, but those of a political nature.”

“You wish to call attention to the fact that ladies are not allowed to vote in the coming election?”

“What an audacious statement! I have never heard a gentleman suggest as much. I confess my ambitions are less bold. I hope to engage in campaigning to support candidates of my choosing—specifically, virtuous politicians who will stand up to the Duke of Rostin. The embargo could force his hand to leave Chamberly. Election or none, popular or not, it is the honorable course of action.”

“An admirable goal.” Albie inclined his head and gifted her one of his charming smiles. Usually, such a smile would make her wary, but her reaction differed markedly when such graced Albion’s face. She felt maddeningly light-headed.

This wouldn’t do. She hadn’t expected to so easily lose her composure in Albion’s presence. And all her fuss and bother made her appallingly unbecoming, she was sure.

Diana looked up as the distinctive golden pineapple-adorned metal sign caught the sunlight above Gunter’s arched front window. Albion was her friend when she had no friends left in London. She didn’t want to ruin that. Especially with Lil soon to depart for Chamberly.

“We are friends, are we not? And shall we remain so as we support one another’s ventures in this alliance?”

“We should both take every advantage of this match, Daisy,” Albion said in his mesmerizing baritone. “And our friendship shall grow all the stronger for it as we get to know one another better.”

While Diana owned no desire to live in a city different from her sister’s ever again, deep in her heart, she still longed for new experiences and feared she might never have another. And that, she was certain, was near the same as death when it came to one’s soul.

“I do want to get you know you better, Albie,” Diana said. “And your homeland. And your family as well.”

Her fiancé—and how extraordinary to think of him as such—tilted his head winningly

“Do you remember the lady who accompanied Dunc and me to Lady Bellingham’s garden party? I believe you mentioned spotting the two of them together?”

“Your brother seemed smitten.”

His pitch rose once more to the tone she was accustomed to hearing from him in public. “Deuces if Dunc didn’t propose! Though I love him dearly, he’s a hopeless grouse. I never thought he would marry. Blast it all if it didn’t take me by surprise. And she said yes! Can you imagine?”

“Countess Jessup seems like a fine woman,” Diana said.

“Countess. Quite. I shall tell you the story behind it all soon enough. It is an astounding turn of events.”

“I welcome the chance to hear it.”

“Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ceremony, lovely one?”

“Oh!” Diana’s heart thumped madly. Thoughts raced through her head, vying for attention. Primarily, what would the Orcan family make of another son’s involvement with a human woman?

Usually, she considered trust a quality to be cultivated and earned over time. Yet she trusted Albie. He would not have invited her if he thought any trouble would come of it.

“I happily accept, but this shall be a new experience for me. What should I wear? What should I bring?”