Diana, page 6
“I look forward to it,” Diana said.
As the others returned to their conversations, Lord Merrifield said to her, “There’s nothing like your first opera, Lady Diana. I’m glad I will be able to share the experience with you.” He smiled at her.
Her stomach exploded with butterflies.
Chapter Six
Diana entered the schoolroom and saw that Miss Gimbel, the new governess, had Finn and Mena working on sums. Both children frowned slightly as they scribbled with their pencils. She indicated for the governess to join her, out of earshot of the twins.
“Have you assessed their level of learning?” she asked.
“Yes,” Miss Gimbel said. “I’ve had both read aloud to me and also given them a few passages to read silently, then I asked them questions about what they read separately. Mena is slightly advanced over Finn but not by much. I’ve also looked at their handwriting. Both could use some work in that area. Currently, they’re doing simple arithmetic. Finn calculates sums quickly. Mena takes her time but is very accurate.”
The report pleased Diana, as did the new governess. Miss Gimbel had been a lady’s companion for the last three years, caring for an elderly duchess who’d recently passed. Though she had no experience with children, she’d told Diana she preferred the young to the old. So far, it seemed to be a good fit.
“Would you give me a few minutes alone with the twins?” she asked.
“Of course, my lady.” She returned to her charges. “Stop there. Let me have your papers. I will look them over and we’ll see if you’ve made any mistakes and then we’ll discuss how they can be corrected.”
The twins handed over their sheets and Miss Gimbel left the schoolroom. Diana took a seat across from them.
“I have something to talk to you about, children,” she began. “It’s one of the reasons we came to London.”
“Are we getting a papa?” Mena asked hopefully.
Diana tamped down her surprise. “That’s possible,” she said cautiously.
“I want a father,” Finn declared. “I like Uncle Derek but Mena and I want a father of our own.”
“We don’t like being bastards,” Mena added.
“Mena. Language,” she reminded. “We don’t use that word.”
“Yes, Mama,” her daughter said contritely.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I will be going with Uncle Derek to several events over the next few weeks, where I can meet new friends. One of those might become my husband, which would mean he would become your father.”
“Do we get to meet him before you decide?” Finn asked.
“What if we don’t like him?” Mena added. “You should bring him home, Mama, so we can talk to him.”
She hadn’t thought of introducing any men to the twins unless she received an offer and the contracts had been drawn up. She still worried none would be forthcoming.
“I’m not sure, my loves. I’m a little old to be marrying. I don’t have the luxury of being choosy.” When their faces fell, she added, “I promise, though, I would never take a husband unless he would be a good father to you.”
They looked relieved.
“Because I will be looking for the best possible papa for you, I need you to stay with Miss Gimbel at all times. Your uncle and I may have guests over for a visit or tea. I need time to talk with them and get to know them.”
“So, we’re to stay upstairs with our governess unless you come get us?” Finn asked.
“That’s right. There’s no sense you meeting so many new acquaintances until I’ve decided on a good papa for you.” She looked at their eager faces, her heart melting. “Do you understand?”
They nodded.
“Good. Keep working hard on your sums.”
“Can I draw you a picture, Mama?” Mena asked. “Drawing is more fun than adding numbers together.”
“I like numbers,” Finn said.
“I would love a new picture from you, Mena. I’ll tell Miss Gimbel.”
Diana left and found Miss Gimbel lingering in the hallway. “Be sure Mena has time to draw some today,” she instructed. “It’s something she enjoys. And please be sure to stay with the twins at all times. Lord Reston and I will be entertaining some throughout the Season and I’d prefer the children remain upstairs.”
“Of course, Lady Diana.”
She went to the drawing room, where Thea awaited her, a dreamy smile on her face as she read from the book Diana had brought.
“Are you enjoying Emma?”
Her sister smiled. “Very much.” She closed the book. “Is it almost time for Lady Amelia to arrive?”
“Yes.”
At the end of yesterday’s teatime at Lady Merrick’s, Diana arranged for Lady Amelia to pay Thea a visit. She assumed Lord Merrifield would accompany his sister—and had dressed accordingly. It had been years since she’d paid any attention to what she wore. Even deciding on which dress to wear had taken a quarter of an hour. She and Thea were sharing a lady’s maid and Diana had been very specific on how she wanted her hair arranged. She felt she looked her best in the deep blue gown she now wore that brought out her blue-gray eyes.
The butler entered. “Lord Merrifield and Lady Amelia Ward have arrived, my lady.”
“Please, send them in,” she said and stood, her heart quickening.
Moments later, the pair stepped into the drawing room and Diana found it hard to breathe. Lord Merrifield wore an impeccably tailored tailcoat of hunter green that emphasized his broad shoulders. Snug buckskins tucked into polished Hessians showed off his long legs and muscular thighs to perfection.
He led his sister to where she stood and they greeted each other, and then she introduced them to Thea.
“Forgive me for not rising,” Thea apologized.
“Your sister told us of your broken limb,” Lord Merrifield said, his voice deep and steady.
“I’m terribly sorry you won’t be making your come-out this year,” Lady Amelia said. “I would have enjoyed doing so with you.”
“You’ll have to keep Diana company,” Thea said. “She won’t know anyone.”
Lady Amelia smiled. “I’ll be happy to. Your sister is so beautiful. Her dance card will fill quickly. Hopefully some of her suitors will see me standing next to her and wish to sign mine as well.”
“You are very lovely,” Diana told the young woman. “You will be the one who attracts all the gentleman. I will bask beside you.” She indicated for them to sit.
“Thank you, Lady Diana, but I only escorted my sister here. I have other business to attend to,” Lord Merrifield said.
Her spirits sank but she smiled brightly. “Of course, my lord. Sitting and listening to three women talk the afternoon away wouldn’t be most gentlemen’s cup of tea.”
He smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. It was as if the sun broke out from behind a cloud and warmed her.
“A cup of tea is always a good thing. Might I return and take tea with you and then see Amelia home? I could return in two hours if that would be convenient.”
“That would be nice, my lord.” She glanced to where the two younger women were already animatedly engaged in conversation. “They already seem fast friends,” she noted.
“It will be good for Amelia to have a new friend.” He paused. “I, too, enjoy making new friends.” His intense gaze caused Diana’s heart to beat wildly.
“I hope to make some new friends myself while in London,” she managed to say.
Lord Merrifield took her bare hand in his gloved one, causing an explosion of butterflies to erupt within her. For a moment, she wished her skin could touch his and blushed at the thought.
Holding her fingers lightly, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. The heat from his lips almost singed her. Diana’s eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat.
“I believe we’ll become friends, my lady. Hopefully, more than friends.”
With that, he released her hand and smiled again. The power of his smile shook her to her core. No man had ever affected her in such a manner. She locked her knees to keep from swaying.
“Until teatime,” he said, a glint of mischief flashing in those amazing blue eyes.
Lord Merrifield exited the room, Diana’s eyes trailing him. Shaken to her core, she turned and managed to find a seat.
He wanted her.
She could feel it from the tip of her head to her tiniest toe. And, oh heavenly day, she wanted him in return. She closed her eyes and thought of his sensual lips meeting hers. A ripple of need swept through her, unfamiliar yet easily recognizable. It had been seven years since she’d kissed a man. In this moment, Diana wanted nothing more than to have her lips against his, his arms about her.
But would a handsome, powerful earl such as Lord Merrifield want to wed a ruined woman with two children? She doubted it.
Diana could not afford to make the same mistake twice. She couldn’t give in to those urges again. Her curiosity had destroyed her past and still darkened her future. Determination filled her. She would never kiss Lord Merrifield.
Unless it was after he slipped a ring on her finger and a clergyman declared them husband and wife.
Oliver left the drawing room, forcing himself to breathe.
Diana de Wolfe was spellbinding.
He’d been attracted to her from his first glimpse at Evie’s and that attraction had only grown during yesterday’s tea at Rachel’s. Physically, she was everything a man could wish for. Large, blue-gray eyes dominated an achingly beautiful, heart-shaped face, with hair shining black as night that he longed to run his fingers through. Her full bottom lip tempted him beyond reason. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. Taste her essence. Strip her of the demure day dress and run his hands along her lush curves.
The small scar on her chin only added to her allure. He wondered how she’d gotten it. She’d admitted being a curious sort. Oliver could only imagine what trouble a young Diana de Wolfe had gotten into as a child.
As he reached the bottom of the staircase and proceeded toward the door, something darted by at the edge of his eye. He turned and saw a small boy crouched behind a potted plant that sat next to a chair. Slowly, he strolled to the child and then turned in a circle, making sure he placed a confused look on his face.
“Now, I know the front door is here somewhere. How might I find it to leave?”
He turned his head, slowly surveying the area.
“It’s over there,” a small voice said, a finger pointing in the direction he should take.
“Oh, that way,” Oliver said and started in a different direction.
“No,” the boy said, coming out from behind the plant.
He turned. Surprised filled him. He recognized the child from yesterday’s play with Delia and Timothy. “Why, hello, Finn. Fancy seeing you. Is Mena here?”
“Yes,” Finn said, shifting from foot to foot, guilt written on his face. “She’s upstairs. With our new governess. Miss Gimbel. I’m not supposed to be here. Mama says we’re to stay upstairs with Miss Gimbel.”
Oliver came to the boy and knelt. He’d always found being on a child’s level helped them to open up.
“I used to avoid my governess, too,” he revealed. “She was about a hundred and twelve years old and meaner than a rabid dog.”
Finn giggled. “Miss Gimbel is not that old. And she seems nice. I was just curious who might be here. But don’t tell Mama. We’re supposed to stay upstairs.”
“Who is your mama?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Lady Diana, perhaps?”
The boy nodded. “She’s supposed to find us a father in London.”
“Where is your father?”
He shrugged. “We’ve never had one. I suppose that’s why she’s getting us one. I heard Uncle Derek tell her we needed one. He’s nice. We live with him and Aunt Thea now. The bastard died before we came to London so we get to live with Uncle Derek now.”
Oliver remembered how Finn had asked him about having to be married in order to have children. Obviously, Diana had given birth without a husband and her twins were old enough to start asking questions. He knew she’d never been to London. Never made her come-out. Whatever had happened to her years ago had resulted in Finn and Mena. Angered surged through him. Some man had taken advantage of her and refused to wed her.
Or worse.
Either way, Diana would soon become an object of gossip. Once the Season began, the ton would sharpen their claws and teeth and make a fine meal of her before spitting her out in rejection.
He wouldn’t allow that. A sudden need to protect her swept through him, much like when his father had died and his mother had descended into madness. He’d wanted to keep Colin and Amelia safe from all harm. That same need to guard and defend Diana de Wolfe surfaced in a rush.
“Finn!”
Oliver looked up and saw Mena at the top of the staircase.
“Come back! She’s looking for you. You’ll get us in trouble.”
The girl looked at Oliver and then waved cautiously, recognizing him. He waved back and then turned to Finn.
“Go back to your governess, Finn. Let’s keep our visit a secret for now,” he warned. “Your mama might be disappointed you disobeyed her.”
The boy’s bottom lip quivered. “Mama might get angry. Her papa got angry at her. He sent her away.” Finn gulped. “I don’t want to be sent away.”
Fury spread through Oliver at the thought of Diana’s father shipping her off to relatives once her delicate condition had been discovered.
“She wouldn’t do that, Finn. Your mama loves you very much.”
Finn wiped his eyes. “I know. But don’t tell, my lord.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “Go back with your sister.”
Oliver rose and watched Finn race up the stairs and take Mena’s hand. Both twins waved at him before disappearing.
Heading toward the door, Oliver left and headed for Luke St. Clair’s townhouse.
Chapter Seven
Diana watched as Lady Merrick rearranged Diana’s wardrobe. She’d sent a note to the marchioness, asking how formal the opera was and if she had any recommendations about what Diana should wear. Lady Merrick offered to go through the outfits created for Diana’s Season in order to guide her as to her selections, not only for tonight’s opera but for upcoming events in which she’d received invitations.
“So all of these to the left will be what to wear to balls. In the center are ensembles for the theatre and opera. To the right of that is attire suitable for routs or salon discussions. Then tea parties.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Lady Merrick. I feel like a country mouse come to town, unaware of how to behave and how I should look,” she confessed.
“Your clothing is lovely. Whatever seamstress you used has done an excellent job. The colors will flatter you and the cut of your gowns is most flattering.”
What Diana couldn’t mention is the same seamstress who’d tattled to Rafe de Wolfe about his daughter’s condition had refused to create a new wardrobe for Diana to wear this Season. It was just one of a thousand ways she’d been judged in Northumberland. Her fears rose that that same judgment would fall harshly upon her in London. She worried, too, that her reputation might affect Thea’s chances of making a suitable match—and even Derek’s when he finally decided to take a wife.
“I think that we are going to become good friends,” Lady Merrick continued. “Because of that, I wish you’d call me Rachel.”
Guilt flooded her. This woman had been nothing but kind and it might possibly affect her own reputation. Diana wanted to speak up now, before it was too late. Especially since she believed participating in the upcoming Season would be a huge mistake.
“I see you’re hesitating.” Lady Merrick took her hand and squeezed it gently. “I know that for a newcomer to London you must be overwhelmed in ways I can’t understand.”
“It’s not that,” Diana began.
“Why did your mother not come to town with the rest of your family? I’m sure she had her own Season and could reassure you on so many different accounts.”
“Mama passed away a few years before my father’s recent death.”
“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that. My own mama died giving birth to me. So did Jeremy’s and Luke’s mamas.”
Diana started. “Your father . . . had three wives?”
“He did. And countless mistresses. Who really raised the three of us was Cor, our grandmother. You will meet her next week at the opening ball of the Season. She’s a bit frail these days but still enjoys attending some events.”
She should tell this woman that all of this was a mistake. London wasn’t meant for her. Trying to land a husband would be impossible with her past.
“What do you think of Lord Merrifield?”
Her cheeks warmed at the mention of his name. “He is very nice.”
“I know the Season has yet to begin and I’m sure you’ll find men swarming about you when it does, but I hope you’ll give Merrifield strong consideration. He would not have invited you to the opera tonight if he weren’t interested in you.”
“I think Lord Merrifield was merely being polite,” she murmured.
“Oh, Merrifield is the picture of politeness. You won’t find a better mannered man in all of London. But he doesn’t waste his time or suffer fools. His invitation alone indicates his interest in you. Not to mention the fact he monopolized you during tea the other day.”
The marchioness led her to two chairs and they both sat.
“Merrifield is ready to wed. Many men you’ll meet during the Season are not. They skate through their twenties without a care in the world and only think to wed when their families push them to do so. Merrifield had to take charge of his siblings when he was barely in university and raise them. He’s done an excellent job—and now he’s ready for children of his own. Lots of them. I can vouch for his character and intellect. His kindness. He would make you a good husband, Diana. I hope you’ll give him every opportunity to make his suit known to you.”
