London Ladies (The Complete Series)

by Eaton, Jillian

  Walking away from the stables, whistling a mindless tune under his breath, Miles couldn’t help but feel that somehow, someway, everything would manage to sort itself out.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You did WHAT?” Dianna’s screech echoed loudly in the confines of her bedchamber, causing Charlotte to flinch and a pair of songbirds nesting outside the window to take flight, their tiny feathered bodies silhouetted against the setting sun as they dove and swooped, chirping their annoyance for all to hear.

  “I don’t believe I want to repeat myself,” Charlotte said cautiously. “I don’t want to go deaf in my other ear.”

  Gritting her teeth, Dianna planted her hands on her hips and glowered down at her best friend who sat demurely on the edge of her bed, hands folded neatly atop her multilayered plum skirt. At least, she’d thought Charlotte to be her best friend. Now she wasn’t so certain, especially after what she had just learned.

  Miles. Invited for dinner. The idea was so preposterous she might have laughed if she didn’t feel so perilously close to tears. Too agitated to stand still she began to pace the length of her bedchamber, bare feet stomping heavily on the thick carpet.

  “I cannot believe you would do this to me,” she muttered, glaring at the redhead out of the corner of her eye. “How could you?”

  When Charlotte had knocked on her door ten minutes ago dressed in a formal gown with her hair twisted into a demure coiffure and a beautiful diamond necklace sparkling at her throat Dianna naturally assumed she’d come to escort her down to the front drawing room for a glass of wine before dinner. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Charlotte had actually come to tell her she’d invited Miles - Miles! - to dine with them this eve.

  “I am not going,” she decided before she flung herself with uncharacteristic dramatic flair into the closest chair and glared out the window. In the distance the sun had nearly disappeared behind a long row of trees and night rapidly approached, trailing shadows in its wake.

  “You have to go. The Duke and Duchess will be expecting you.”

  “Will they be expecting a surprise guest as well?” Dianna asked darkly.

  “No,” Charlotte admitted after a pause, “but that is why I am telling you now. If you approve of Radnor attending tonight they will have no choice but to follow your lead and do the same. Come now,” she said, her tone tinged with exasperation when Dianna remained stubbornly silent, “what do you have to lose?”

  Pulling at a loose thread on her chemise - Charlotte had caught her only midway dressed - Dianna bit her lip, mind whirling with thoughts half-finished and questions unanswered.

  In the past two days her entire world had come tumbling down around her, like a set of wooden blocks knocked aside by an angry toddler. For four years there’d been neither hide nor hair of Miles, and just when she’d finally begun accepting the fact that there never would be, he had come back and it seemed she couldn’t turn around without coming face to face with him. First at the wedding reception, then in the woods, and now at dinner in the one place she should have felt the safest.

  Dianna did not think of herself as a courageous woman, but she knew it would take courage to sit across the table and make polite conversation with the man who had spurned her. Humiliated her. Left her without a word of explanation. Never mind that this morning when she’d woken with his arms wrapped around her she had experienced a moment of contentment so pure it robbed the very breath from her lungs. Never mind that one glance into his piercing green eyes and she was lost. Never mind that his very touch still set her aflame. She didn’t want him anymore. She didn’t desire him. She didn’t want to feel his mouth on hers and his hands skimming down her sides to gently cup her hips as he rocked against-

  “No,” she gasped, jumping to her feet.

  “What is it?” Charlotte demanded, standing as well. Her heavy skirt spilled out around her, the train dragging across the floor as she went to Dianna and rested her hands on her trembling shoulders, forcing their eyes to meet. “What is wrong?”

  “Everything! No, not everything.” Taking a deep breath, she struggled to compose herself. After all, she wasn’t the type of woman who dissolved into hysterics at the drop of a hat. At least she hadn’t been two days ago. “I do not know what I am supposed to do, or what I am supposed to feel. I don’t want to think about Miles, but I do. And I don’t want to want him, but…”

  “You do,” Charlotte finished when Dianna trailed off. “Which is precisely why I invited him tonight. All the feelings you have now could very well be remnants of what you felt before. You owe it to yourself to find out, and the only way you are going to do that is if you spend time with him.”

  “At a private dinner with my closest friends and relatives, all of whom hold him in very low regard?” Dianna said incredulously.

  The corners of Charlotte’s mouth twitched, hinting at a mischievous smile. “Is it so wrong of me to want to see him squirm a little bit?”

  When Charlotte put it that way… “I suppose not. But,” she said with a stern glance, “this does not mean I forgive you for inviting him without asking my permission first.”

  “You would have said no, which is precisely why I did not ask you.” Sauntering across the room, Charlotte flung open the closet and began sorting through the dozen or so dresses Dianna had brought with her from London. “You should wear something that brings out your eyes. Is this the only blue you have?” she asked, pulling out a silk evening dress with an empire waist and sheer detachable sleeves.

  “Well yes, but-”

  “Perfect. We will pair this with one of your hair ribbons and I have the most beautiful set sapphire earrings to pull it all together. You’ll be a vision.”

  Puffing air into her cheeks, Dianna sat on the bed and hugged a pillow against her chest. “But I don’t want to be a vision,” she protested. “I want to be… well, I want to be like I normally am,” she said, addressing her body with a vague wave of her hand.

  “Unfortunately, how you normally are is quite boring. Here, hold this. I shall be right back.” Thrusting the dress at Dianna, Charlotte scurried out, presumably to fetch the sapphire earrings from her room down the hall. Left to her own devices Dianna carefully spread the dress out on top of the mattress so as not to wrinkle the delicate silk and stood up, her stomach too filled with butterflies to remain sitting.

  How could she possibly be expected to have dinner with the man she had once been betrothed to and pretend as though all were well? What if Miles said something about last night? What if he tried to become too familiar with her? What if she forgot herself and became too familiar with him?

  By the time Charlotte returned Dianna was pacing circles around the room, arms crossed and a line of tension creasing her brow. “I cannot do it,” she announced the second Charlotte closed the door. “I cannot see him again. Not in a roomful of people. Not with everyone watching. I cannot. I will not.”

  “You can and you will,” Charlotte said in a no nonsense tone. “If worst comes to worst simply smile and nod and pretend you’re listening like you’ve done at every other social function over the past four years. Now put these on” - she held out a pair of glittering sapphire earrings strung together with delicate gold thread - “and get dressed. We are running late.”

  Because trying to argue with Charlotte was the equivalent of arguing with a stonewall - impossible - Dianna gritted her teeth and acquiesced.

  With the help of two maids she found herself dressed, hair pinned, and jewelry on within a matter of minutes.

  “Beautiful.” Charlotte stood over Dianna’s right shoulder as they collectively studied her appearance in an ornate silver mirror hanging down beside the closet door. “Stunning, even. Radnor will not be able to take his eyes off you.”

  Dianna tilted her head to the side. The woman in the mirror did the same. She blinked. Her reflection blinked back, blue eyes wide and lips, dashed with a touch of rose lip salve, slightly parted. She did looking rather stunni
ng. And terrified. “What if I don’t want him to look at me?”

  “Not look at you? Now you are being simply ridiculous. Come along. We are already late enough as it is.” Taking Dianna’s hand as though she were a child, Charlotte dragged her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

  Candles and glass lanterns, a rare sight in most households but of no great expense to a man as wealthy as the Duke of Ashburn, reflected off the curving mahogany banister and illuminated peaceful paintings of the countryside where once only framed portraits of somber looking relatives long since passed had hung. Under the reign of the duke’s mother, the dowager duchess, Ashburn had been a dark, gloomy place shut off from the world. Now that Reginald had returned and married Abigail, however, it was slowly returning to its former glory as one of England’s most prestigious country estates.

  Never one to abide by what was popular within the pages of Ackerman’s Repository, a magazine devoted to everything from home decor to embroidery patterns, Abigail decorated as she pleased. As a result Ashburn was now well on its way to becoming warm and welcoming with bright, cozy colors, natural light, and furniture that was as practical to use as it was nice to look at.

  Dianna’s aunt greeted them at the bottom of the stairs. Tidily dressed in a dark green gown with white ruffles, Abigail’s entire face lit up with a brilliant smile. “There you are!” she said, breathless in her excitement. “I was so very worried about you out in that storm all alone! Thank goodness you managed to find the old gamekeeper’s cottage. Heaven knows what would have happened had you not.”

  Charlotte stepped back with a wink as Abigail enveloped her niece in an enthusiastic embrace. Wrapped in her aunt’s arms, Dianna breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  Unaccustomed to lying, especially to those she loved, she’d been dreading telling her Abigail the truth about what had really transpired in the woods. Thankfully Charlotte - whose moral compass did not always point true north - seemed to have saved her the trouble by omitting Miles from the story entirely.

  “All is well that ends well,” she chirped without a hint of guilt for her well-meaning lie. “Shall we adjourn to the parlor for a glass of wine while dinner is being prepared?”

  “I already had one,” Abigail confessed in a low whisper as they followed Charlotte into the parlor and settled around the fireplace where a half dozen logs quietly smoldered.

  Dianna, taking note of her aunt’s flushed cheeks, bit back a smile. “I don’t believe a second will hurt anyone.” Especially after you learn who is coming tonight, she added silently. “Thank you,” she said automatically when a maid appeared with a stemmed crystal glass half filled with dark red wine. Taking a moment to adjust her skirts, she lifted her arm and the three women clinked their glasses together.

  “To family and friends,” Abigail said.

  “Family and friends,” Charlotte and Dianna echoed in unison.

  “Where is Lady Patricia?” Dianna asked after taking a sip. The wine slid pleasantly down her throat, filled with subtle hints of elderberry and honey.

  “Her husband is not feeling well, poor dear, so they left this afternoon while you were resting. She sends her regards, and looks forward to seeing you again over the holidays,” Abigail said. Setting her glass aside on a table she smoothed her hands over her lap, fingers plucking at an invisible thread. Dancing firelight reflected off the gold ring she wore on her left hand, revealing the Ashburn family crest that had been stamped into the middle and worn smooth with age.

  A ring, Dianna knew, that had been given in love and taken away in haste.

  Once again she was reminded of the uncanny resemblances between her life and her aunt’s, and once again she wondered how Abigail had been able to forgive the Duke of Ashburn his transgressions. For not only did Reginald break their engagement; he moved to another country, married another woman, and raised two children before he returned to England for Abigail. Yet still she had - more or less - welcomed him back with open arms, and never had Dianna seen a couple more happy together (with the notable exception of Charlotte and Gavin, of course).

  “Aunt Abigail, how did you do it?” she blurted out suddenly. The very second the question was past her lips she wished she could take it back, but the damage had been done. Having been conversing rather intently about something or other, Abigail and Charlotte both stopped speaking and turned their heads, making Dianna the uncomfortable recipient of their full undivided attention.

  “How did I do what, dear?” Abigail asked, her brow knitting in bemusement.

  “How did you… ah…” She glanced helplessly at Charlotte, but her friend merely lifted one auburn brow and shrugged her shoulders as though to say, you’re on your own with this one. Needing a bit of liquid courage to steady her nerves and calm the rapid beating of her heart, Dianna took another sip of wine. Skimming her tongue over her teeth to make certain they wouldn’t be stained a dark red, she took a deep breath and said, “How did you ever forgive Reginald for what he did?”

  “Heavens, what a question,” Abigail replied with a startled blink. “To be honest I suppose I forgave him almost immediately, although I did not admit it to myself until much later. A matter of pride and all that, you know.”

  “But how?” Dianna persisted. “How were you able to do it?”

  “I loved him,” she said simply. “Even when I hated him, I loved him. Rocky allowed his obligations to his family to outweigh the promise he made to me, and for that I could not fault him, especially when he suffered for those obligations far worse than I did.” Her blue eyes narrowed. “This does not have anything to do with Miles Radnor, does it?”

  “Why - why would you say that?”

  “Because I know he has recently returned to Winfield, just as I know you have seen him. Oh, do not look at me like that. I may be getting on in years, but I’m not that old. Even if a servant hadn’t spied him roaming about the grounds two nights ago I would have guessed something was amiss. You’ve been acting quite peculiar, Dianna. I knew there had to be a reason behind it. You have always been such a level headed girl, except” - she held up a finger - “where Miles is concerned.”

  Though she had the look of an absent minded spinster, Abigail had always been sharply perceptive, especially in regards to her favorite niece. With a small pang of shame, Dianna realized she had been foolish to think she could have ever hidden the truth from the one person who knew her best. “It is true,” she admitted. “We spoke on the night of your wedding, and again this morning.”

  “This morning?” Abigail repeated, her eyebrows lifting.

  “Dianna…” There was an unmistakable note of warning in Charlotte’s voice, which Dianna ignored. As children and even young women they’d been free to conspire amidst themselves, spouting half-truths when it suited them, but as adults they no longer possessed the luxury of action without consequence.

  “I might as well tell her everything. She will figure it all out eventually.”

  “Of course I will,” Abigail said. “Er, figure out what, precisely?”

  “That your beloved niece is still in love with the man who deceived and deserted her,” Charlotte put in, looking equal parts annoyed and amused.

  “I am not in love with him!” Dianna denied, cheeks flushing with color. “And he did not deceive me,” she muttered, fingers tightening on the stem of her wine glass before she took yet another sip, draining it all the way down to the dregs.

  Pursing her lips in a very ‘I told you so way’, Charlotte leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, lifting the hem of her heavy skirt to expose her ankles and calves. “It’s bloody warm in here,” she said defensively. “And there are no men about. At least not yet. “Oh go on then,” she said, gesturing towards Dianna with her glass. “Tell Abigail everything you told me.”

  Feeling a bit light-headed from the wine, Dianna proceeded to do exactly that. From losing her way in the field to waking up in Miles’ arms, she left no detail unaccounted for. Abigail listened in silenc
e, her expression carefully contained, and only when Dianna revealed Miles would be dining with them tonight did she show a reaction.

  “He is coming here this evening?” she asked.

  “Charlotte invited him.”

  “I did,” the redhead admitted without a hint of guilt, “and I would do it again if given the choice.”

  “Good,” Abigail said firmly, taking Dianna by surprise.

  “You think his coming here is good?” she said with a dubious tilt of her head.

  “Indeed I do. It is high time I had a word with that boy, and it is time for you to decide whether you are able to forgive him or not. I hope you do,” Abigail said gently, leaning forward to pat Dianna’s thigh, “but I understand if you cannot. In either case,” she declared, brandishing her empty glass in the air, “we are most definitely going to need more wine.”

  “Charlotte,” Dianna whispered some thirty minutes later, clinging fast to her friend’s arm as they made their way into the dining room, “I believe I may be slightly drunk.”

  “Slightly?” Charlotte snorted. “Sweetling, you are well and truly foxed. Not to fear,” she said when Dianna released a tiny squeak of alarm and stopped dead in her tracks, “I will make certain nothing untoward happens to you. I am afraid I cannot say the same for your aunt, however,” she muttered with a significant glance towards the head of the elaborately set table where Abigail was leaning heavily against her husband, her rosy cheeks and slightly off-kilter grin revealing she’d indulged in one too many glasses of elderberry wine.

  Formerly dashing in a dark gray waistcoat that accentuated the silver in his hair, Reginald looked every inch the presiding duke of the manor. Standing behind Abigail with one broad hand on her shoulder and the other wrapped possessively around the small of her back, he stared down at his wife adoringly, a crooked smile gracing his lips. As Dianna watched, trying to ignore the tiny spark of jealousy that was fighting to ignite into a full blown flame, he lowered his head and whispered something in Abigail’s ear. The words were too quiet to be overheard, but it must have been something quite amusing for Abigail’s peal of delighted laughter rang through the room like a bell.