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As they traversed the carriageway, the horses’ rhythmic trot soothed her worries somewhat.

She reflected on the first days of their marriage.

When, for all the talk of the practicality of their arrangement and what fine fortune they had in being friends and so amicable with one another, passion followed.

She recalled how his hand remained on her arm longer than it ought and the light in his eyes when she said something he found salient.

And then, the greatest gift. The sensual spark. The profound intensity of their lovemaking.

But in a few short minutes, her husband would hate her.

As she stole glances at him, his hands firmly on the reins of the magnificent bay horses, she tried to convince herself otherwise. Albion was kind. He had a good heart.

But she craved a few more minutes of bliss, regardless. Before she learned whether he would hate her for what she had done.

“Do you have such fine steeds in the Hidden Realm?” she asked.

“These and better still, my lady,” Albion said.

Thank the Lord he had dropped the affectations performed when out among the ton.

“Not that I would ever let these magnificent creatures think they are anything but top of the line. We enjoy riding nearly as much as the English do. But the only horse I have encountered here who could match an Orcan steed belongs to my brother. Wintermist. I saw him first whilst traveling to Newmarket, but Dunc acted quicker than I did. Delay leads to disappointment.” He allowed for a hint of a grin. “I tried to win him back.”

“A flutter, then? I can’t imagine you would gladly lose a wager to your brother.”

“This flutter was rather unique. It hung on the prospect of Duncan training Iris Gabbert to be a lady of Society.”

“Before they were married,” Diana said, somewhat familiar with the story.

“Indeed. But that was a wager I felt certain my brother would win. Any fool could see he was mad for the woman. I only supposed the old boy needed a bit of a push. Dunc did the rest.”

“You and your brother seem close.” Would you do anything for him? Even betray a good man?

Diana doubted it.

“In our way, we are close. Yes. We have fun at each other’s expense, but that is how things stand between brothers, is it not?”

“And sisters as well.”

“Fair point. But I know I can rely on Dunc, and I hope he feels the same about me. He was always the responsible one, and as we grew up, I became more and more of the joker. The fellow who could charm the English while Dunc went about his serious dealings with them. It’s what my late father wanted. ”

While her father remained alive and well, she understood how familial pressure lingered even after its source passed.

When they arrived at the townhouse, Albion hopped off the high board to help his groom with the horses, per his custom.

Once on solid ground, Diana stayed outside.

The full moon cast a charming glow on the grounds, the intricate black iron fence facing a cobbled street that could get crowded by day but was delightfully silent at night, and the rows of lovingly tended flower beds inside those gates.

Meandering along the railing, Diana wanted nothing more than Albion’s company. They must find their way to one another once more. But first, she must ask for his help.

She waited until Albion finished stabling the horses, keeping to his preferred entrance. After another ten minutes or so, she heard the heavy tread of his footsteps. Then, his distinctive form loomed large, illuminated by the moon.

“Husband? Keep me company before you retire for the night.”

Albion lowered himself into a bow and then accompanied her around the garden’s well-laid paths of heather and lavender, encircled by roses in full bloom. He’d instructed the gardeners to plant daisies in her honor. How unworthy she was of such tribute.

“Does something trouble you, wife?” Albion said, in the perfect gentlemanly tone he used with her when they were not in the privacy of a bedchamber.

“I cannot stop my mind from conjuring the peril Lillian faces in Chamberly,” she blurted.

Albion slowed his pace. In the moonlight, she caught his sudden frown. “You managed the ball well enough.”

“Is it not sensible to maintain a calm exterior? Yet I feel helpless here in London. Did you talk to your brother?”

The tension in his voice was palpable, so unlike her dear Albie. “I imagine her status as an English lady protects her. The Duke of Rostin has made ill-considered decisions, but he is not an imbecile. He would not wish to draw the ire of England or any other country that might intervene.”

Diana had thought as much herself until her unfortunate encounter with Reginald Addington. She squared her shoulders.

“It is what I have been telling myself, but ‘tis insufficient. You understand the closeness between siblings. Would you remain here if your brother were in danger?”

“You know I would not. As it so happens, I did chart a course with Dunc. One that might help resolve this situation with your sister.”

“Thank you,” Diana said, feeling better. “I knew I could count on you, Albie. What is your plan?”

He looked down, adjusting his cravat. “To gain reliable intelligence regarding Lillian’s welfare, I shall need to call on the right people in London with ties to either Chamberly or perhaps the Duke of Rostin. Your friend Reg, for example.”

The night was still temperate, but she shivered and ran her hands over her arms. “I wouldn’t bother. Sir Reginald would never offend his great friend, the duke, by asking for a favor.”

“If he is friendly with Rostin, isn’t he precisely the man to approach?”

“I have it on good authority that he owes the duke money.”

“Who told you this?”

“Sir Reginald himself.”

“You and Reg chat often, then?”

“I ran into him in a shop, and it came to my attention during our brief conversation. That’s all.”

Diana sensed the anger seething just under his polished exterior.

She wanted her husband to press her further.

To ask so many questions that she was cornered and had no choice but to confess everything.

Anything to relieve this miserable feeling that the person she was talking to wasn’t her Albie. Not the man she’d come to love.

“I should accompany you on these calls,” she said. “I can make my case alongside you.”

“Unfortunately, these men will be more responsive if we meet alone. I’m sorry. I understand why you would do anything on earth for your sister.”

“I would,” she said quietly. “You see, we have much in common, Albie. Why are we so distant from each other these past days?”

“Pray tell. What has been inappropriate about my behavior?”

“I did not say inappropriate but distant. We cannot lose our friendship. If nothing else, grant me that.”

For one hopeful moment, Diana thought Albion would finally bear his soul.

That her seemingly unflappable husband would let down his guard and show her his true self.

If they could lean on one another, that would surely make it easier, wouldn’t it?

They’d leave no space for secrets, united in complete and loving trust.

Her hope was short-lived. Albion resumed his aloof air. Any romantic notions were naught but fantasy. A veil of polite distance formed between them once more.

“We can make calls together another time,” he said.

“I have business to attend to outside the city. It seems my father has some affairs in Newhaven that he has left unattended—to do with shipping, I’m told.

I asked Dunc to let me tend to them. I plan to leave directly after my calls tomorrow morning. ”

“Oh.” Diana’s heart sank. “I am surprised to hear this.”

“Why? Isn’t it time I carried more responsibility in my family? One can’t hide behind being the younger son forever. I should be back within three days.”

“Can you not postpone this trip, Albie? Or perhaps I could accompany you.”

His response wasn’t as polished as it could have been. “What on earth would you do with yourself? It shall be a great bore, I assure you.”

“I will find plenty to do.”

“Not this time,” he told her. “This is my business alone. When I return, we should allow for a longer discussion about our future.”

He kissed her hand and retreated to his set of apartments. Diana felt sure that the conversation he had in mind would not be to her liking. Then again, what more could she expect? Her husband was so good, and she was so shameful.

Albion deserved a happy life. Separation from her would grant him the best chance of enjoying one.