Page 51 of The Duke of Ruin
Diana sent up a silent prayer.
The tension growing in the air shattered upon the arrival of Verity’s son. Augustus “Beau” Beaumont, all of five years, tore into the drawing room as if his feet were on fire. “Mama, Mama! The puppies are here! The puppies are here! Come see!” He ran straight for his mother, snagging her hand in his and pulling. He’d grown so much since Diana had last seen him nearly two years ago. He wasn’t a baby anymore but a boy.
Verity laughed. “How wonderful. Beau, did you not see we have a guest?”
He turned his head and looked at Diana. “She can come see the puppies too. Comeon, Mama!”
“Beau, this is your Aunt Diana. You remember her, from that time she came for Christmas?”
Beau narrowed his green eyes—those hadn’t changed one bit—at Diana. “Maybe. It’s nice to see you, Auntie.” He offered a quick bow, and Diana had to commend his manners, especially in the face of such excitement.
“As it happens, I do want to see the puppies,” Diana said. She could use seeing something exceedingly adorable. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“No. But let’sgo.” He pulled so hard on his mother’s hand that he tipped backward.
Verity reached out and steadied him, then rose gracefully to her feet. “Let’s not keep them waiting.” She looked over at Diana. “Are you sure you’re up to it? I know it’s been a long journey.”
She far preferred puppies to being alone with her own thoughts at the moment. “Absolutely. Let us see the puppies!” She grinned at Beau, who smiled back. Clasping his mother’s hand tight, he skipped forward, forcing her and Diana to laughingly keep up.
To enjoy such a simple life… Diana wanted nothing more. She’d never had that. And she feared she never would.
Because he’d sleptthrough dinner, Simon devoured a tray of food in his room. He was sorry to have missed the meal, for a variety of reasons. He had no idea if Diana had come to a decision. He’d been looking forward to getting to know his hostess.
And he missed dining with Diana.
After spending so much time with her over the past nine days, he felt rather alone. Looking at the clock, he wondered if she and the duchess would still be about. But the bath the footman had offered when he’d brought the dinner tray was awfully tempting.
In the end, he opted for the bath, but when he was finished, he was too restless to go to bed. He dressed and went back to the drawing room, hoping to find either Diana or Verity. But the room was empty. Perhaps they were downstairs. He retraced the way he’d come that afternoon and found himself in what Diana had called the King’s Hall. Unfortunately, that was empty too.
He meandered about the room, looking at the paintings which were an interesting mix of portraits, perhaps of past dukes and their families, and landscapes. One in particular looked as though it was a representation of the countryside surrounding Blackburn.
Spying light at the end of a passageway behind the stairs, he walked into a massive library with a huge stone hearth occupying a full third of the back wall. Windows on either side of the fireplace looked out toward the back of the tower, but he couldn’t appreciate the view since the curtains were drawn. It was also quite dark, he reminded himself, thinking the late nap had thrown him off.
The collection of books was awe-inspiring. Some Duke of Blackburn must have been a well-read gentleman. Or perhaps they all were. Simon suffered a brief pang of regret at having disposed of most of his library, but brushed it away. The books he’d donated would get far more use than collecting dust at Lyndhurst.
His eye caught a grouping of toy soldiers on a table, and he was instantly reminded of the Taft boys. He smiled to himself, thinking of what a splendid day that had been. At first, being around the children had summoned too much pain, but their joy for life had given him a glimpse of hope.
For what, exactly?
That he couldn’t answer.
“Good evening, Romsey.”
The feminine voice came from behind Simon. He turned to see the duchess moving into the library and offered a small bow. “Good evening.”
“You found Beau’s soldiers.” The duchess came toward him, her lips curved into a smile.
“You and Di—Miss Kingman look very much alike,” he said. “You could be sisters.”
“Just call her Diana. She refers to you as Simon. It’s to be expected after you’ve spent so much time together.”
He nodded, wondering just how much Diana had told her cousin. He was probably better off not knowing. “Who is Beau?”
“Diana didn’t tell you about my son?”
“No.” She’d said precious little about her family, just that she and the duchess were close. Simon picked up one of the toys. “He likes soldiers?”
She cocked her head to the side. “He likes to pretend his father is a soldier.”
