Page 62 of Taken By the Icy Duke

Gilbert arched a brow. “Ahh, so that was the errand?”

“Partly. Alison needed a bonnet, at which time we spoke of Father’s dinner. I planned to tell you, but I came home to find you engrossed in port and brandy.” Her words emerged with a hint more sharpness than she intended, and she quickly schooled her expression. “In any case, Father hopes we can attend.”

Leopold fiddled with the cuff of his sleeve, looking uneasy.

“I suppose I am not invited,” he remarked in an attempt at wry humor. “Lord Crayford likely does not wish to see me.”

Diana folded her hands tightly, unsure how to respond. While he was not wrong, polite manners demanded a more delicate approach.

“I—I do not know if Father included you in the invitation. I can ask, if you wish.”

“If Diana’s father wishes a small gathering, we shall not impose, but let us not trouble ourselves about that tonight,” Gilbert shot Leopold an admonishing glance then shifted his focus to Diana.

Victor, no doubt sensing the undercurrent, forced a cheerful note. “In the meantime, we have enough brandy for four, and a particularly fine vintage your husband has decanted for us.”

Diana gave a polite half-smile, but her attention was captured by Leopold, who studied her with what looked like genuinerepentance. She braced herself for him to speak, but he only took a sip of brandy and remained quiet.

Seconds passed in awkward quiet. She decided to break it with safe conversation.

“Did the boundary matter resolve itself, or must you ride out tomorrow?”

Gilbert replied. “Victor and I planned to see it ourselves. I may be gone for part of the day.” He hesitated, then added, “Diana, if you should like to come along, we could arrange a gentler route, though it might be tedious.”

She shook her head, offering another small smile. “No, I have tasks here. But I appreciate the invitation.”

“All right,” he murmured, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Victor cleared his throat again, valiantly keeping the conversation afloat. “Leopold was describing a new scheme for stable improvements; some notion of reorganizing the farrier’s schedule. Quite practical, I must say.”

Leopold scratched his neck, as if embarrassed. “I mostly repeated ideas gleaned from old acquaintances. But I would be happy to help if… if Gilbert is open to it.”

Gilbert gave a curt nod. “We can discuss it further. A more consistent approach to the stables would not hurt.”

Diana realized how surreal it felt: the four of them, almost comfortable, yet beneath the surface it remained uneasy.

A footman entered with a small tray and an additional glass, presumably for Diana. She declined with a subtle shake of her head, and the footman withdrew. The men exchanged glances, as though waiting for some sign she might linger.

Diana rose instead, smoothing her skirts. “I am pleased to see you all in good spirits,” she said, mustering some composure. “But, if you will excuse me, I would like to freshen up from the outing. Hollings can send word if you need me.”

Victor set his glass down. “Of course, Duchess. Please do come join us again, if you would like.”

“We would enjoy your company,” Gilbert added, the look in his eyes conveying sincerity.

“Perhaps, let us see. I am indeed tired.” She inclined her head to Leopold. “Lord Leopold.” Then she nodded politely to Victor and turned to go.

Once in the corridor, she let out a long breath. The oppressive warmth in the drawing room was replaced by the cooler air in the house’s wide hall. She headed upstairs, a swirl of conflicting emotions pounding in her head.

The men looked so comfortable and… natural together.

She once again felt like an outsider in her own home; a bitter reminder of her first few weeks after marrying Gilbert.

Halfway to her chamber, she spotted Ruth pulling linens from a closet. The maid paused upon seeing Diana’s troubled face.

“Your Grace?” she asked. “You have returned earlier than expected from your errands. Shall I bring tea or help you dress?”

Diana hesitated, then quietly said, “Ruth, I… I might need a moment. Could you come in and close the door behind us?”

Ruth’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”

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