Page 29 of Romanced By the Orc

That was what Reginald had told her. She tired of men telling her she didn’t understand.

“Are you forbidding me from marrying Albion, Father? Have you no fear I shall elope if denied?”

“Have you even told your mother?”

“Mother has chosen a path that takes her far from her family’s affairs, has she not?”

Father winced, but said nothing to contradict her statement. Diana’s heart dropped. She hadn’t intended to be so harsh.

“I meant to spoke to you before Albion,” she said quietly. “I had hoped you would be glad I am to marry a man in such stable circumstances, regardless of his provenance.”

“You shall have wealth at your disposal, Diana. You are right on that count.” Her father hesitated. “I trust you will take your family’s best interests into account. Our estate could use an infusion of cash.”

She breathed in heavily, feeling as though she might have changed form and transformed into a bank in Father’s eyes. She didn’t know why this surprised her. Why did anything her parents do ever surprise her? “You want Albion to save you from that mess?”

“I am sure, as his wife, you will have some influence over the finances.”

If that were so, she’d no intention of steering Albion’s hand. She’d no intent of ensnaring him in her family’s troubles. She would soon be out of them. Lillian as well, for once her sister returned, she intended to invite her to live with Albion and herself for as long as she desired.

“I suppose there shall be a wedding breakfast?” Father said. “I could broach the matter with Lord Albion then.”

“A quiet ceremony to make the matter official. That is all. Just the minimum of witnesses.”

If exclusion from the occasion concerned him, her father’s expression failed to show it. “Very well. You may bring two of the servants to your new household. Your mother took on that young woman and her brother and can’t be bothered to stay here long enough to make use of them.”

“Isabel and Isaac then, if it pleases.”

“Just take care.”

“I shall take all the care in the world.”

“You misunderstand my true concerns,” he said stiffly. “Or you would not speak so blithely. I meant to spare your feelings, but perhaps that was ill-considered.”

He leaned forward and her heart raced, afraid she knew exactly what he was about to say.

“Once the rumormongers start to talk, it is nearly impossible to stop them. Mind that you do nothing to embarrass your new husband. I will not allow you to shame this family again.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Not being a social sort, Dunc kept the number of people here small,” Albie told her. “I’m grateful you were willing to attend.”

“I’m honored that your family would have an outsider here.”

Diana’s cheery tone belied her inner fretfulness. They had spent the past week apart as Diana helped Lillian with her final preparations for her trip and bid her a tearful goodbye.

During that time, her engagement to Albie had been hypothetical, their impetuous kiss akin to a dream.She summoned the memory when she lay in bed at night, staring at the faded roses imprinted on the canopy and wondering what other pleasures might be in store for her once they wed. Her heart beat faster as she envisioned an enormous bed with silk sheets and sumptuous pillows. Imagining the feel of his hands against her skin, running down the length of her body. His mesmerizing amber eyes stared into hers before he drew apowerful hand behind her neck and pulled her into another kiss … and perhaps more.

Now, he was almost shockingly real, like a literal dream come true. A dream too good to be true.

And what did Albie make ofher? Had she remembered to glance at the looking glass before leaving her townhouse? Was her cornflower blue frock appropriate for the occasion?

Diana tried to put these ruminations to the back of her mind as she waved at her father’s coachman, who clicked his tongue to get the horses moving. She could not help but notice that as fine as her conveyance once seemed, it paled compared to Albie’s gilded coach, decorated with the Barrington crest of a lone wolf in profile and an inverted chevron.

“Humbug,” he told her. “It is my family who should be honored.”

His voice trembled slightly. Was it possible he was as nervous in her company as she was in his? Either way, she accepted Albion’s proffered arm. And tried not to gasp at the Duke of Barrington’s townhouse.

Passing a white trellis bedecked with hollyhock and ivy, she saw the walls were twice her height, if not more. On the massive front door, a brass ring bell-pull hung low enough for a human to handle. As long as said human stood on tip-toe. An enormous bay window faced the street, along with stained glass panes as intricate as one might see in a cathedral. Looking upward, she espied a stone gargoyle keeping watch from atop a turret, as solemn as those of any medieval castle.

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