Page 27 of The Duke of Ruin
She’d never have been allowed to do that, even if it had occurred to her. “Didn’t you get wet?”
“Of course, but it’s terribly fun. Perhaps I’ll pelt you with a snowball when you aren’t looking.”
She arched a brow at him. “Perhaps I’ll get you first.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “Miss Kingman, you are one of a kind.”
She’d preferred him calling her Diana but wouldn’t say so. Instead, she opened up her book to read, but quickly abandoned the occupation because the light simply wasn’t good enough.
“Should I light the lantern?” Simon offered.
“It isn’t necessary. I’m tired of reading anyway.”
He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t think of bringing another activity for you. Such as needlepoint. Do you stitch?”
“On occasion. I don’t particularly enjoy it.” Because her parents had ensured she was exceptionally good at it—just as they had with dancing and playing the pianoforte. She’d been schooled in everything they’d deemed necessary to the point of guaranteeing she’d loathe every single thing they’d pressed upon her.
“Then it’s good I didn’t bring any.”
The coach began to slow, and Diana wiped the condensation from the window to see outside. “There’s an inn.”
Simon exhaled again, his relief evident. “Good.”
A few minutes later, they were stopped in a busy yard outside a large inn. Tinley opened the door. “We’re a bit outside Brereton, Your Grace. This isn’t the type of lodging you prefer, but it may be a while before we find something else, and the snow is coming down quite hard.”
Diana looked to the ground, which was completely white. “We should stop.”
“Yes,” Simon agreed. He stepped out of the coach, then turned to help Diana down. “The inn is larger than I’d like, but it should be fine. We’re so far from London now. I doubt anyone would know you out here.”
“And they’ll only know you as Mr. Byrd,” she presumed.
“Perhaps. If they know me at all. Come, let’s get inside.” He took her arm and escorted her quickly into the common room. As soon as they were over the threshold, a small person barreled into them.
“Matthias!” A woman rushed toward them and picked the child up. He couldn’t have been more than five. She looked aghast at Diana and Simon. “I’m so sorry. He’s tired of being in the coach all day, I expect.”
Diana smiled at the boy. “Me too. And snow is exciting, isn’t it?”
The boy nodded. “I like snow. Mama won’t let me go outside, though.” He pouted.
“It’s nearly dark,” his mother said. “Tomorrow, if the weather is pleasant, you can go outside.”
The boy had warm brown eyes the color of sherry. Dark lashes spiked out from them as he blinked at her. “Promise?”
“Promise.” She tweaked the end of his nose and dropped a kiss on his head.
Diana’s heart twisted in the presence of such maternal love. For the first time, she wondered what it might be like to have her own child. She’d love him or her so very much. She’d never force them to do anything or to be something they weren’t. She’d love them just as they were.
Except she’d probably be married to a man who wouldn’t let her.
Another child, this one a bit older than the first, came to the woman’s side. “Mama, our room is ready.”
“Oh good.” She sounded weary as she flicked a look toward Diana and Simon. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
After they were gone, Diana noticed that Simon appeared as tense as he had back in the coach when they’d first discovered it was snowing. “Do you not like children?” she asked.
He shook his head slightly and blinked, as if she’d disrupted his thoughts. Perhaps she had.
“I don’t like or dislike them,” he said. “Let me see about a room.” He went to the innkeeper, who was just finishing up with the family.
