Whatever doubts Diana held, Cole had none whatsoever. She would be a splendid duchess. Clever, compassionate, tenacious. They would make a marvelous team. Cole could scarcely wait. Three weeks of banns would feel like a lifetime.
But first, a gentleman was required to make things official.
He dressed and broke his fast and spent the morn preparing for tonight's first parliamentary meeting for as long as he could, then set out for the Middleton household.
If Thaddeus was still asleep at half twelve, Cole would drag the man out of bed himself. There was a contract to arrange, a wedding to plan, a new life just around the corner.
When the butler answered the door, Cole greeted him with a smile. “A wonderful day to you, Shaw. Is the master at home?”
“I believe he’s expecting you, Your Grace.” Shaw led Cole not to the guest parlor, but to Middleton’s private sitting room.
The last bubbles of nervousness disappeared from Cole’s belly. This was a good sign. An excellent sign. Thaddeus had roused himself at the crack of noon in order to sign the wedding contract.
Cole would leave the question of banns or license up to Diana, but the moment the vows were spoken, he and his new bride would finally be able to—
“Why are you here?”
He spun around, heart pounding uncertainly. The voice hadn’t belonged to Thaddeus, but rather to Diana. And she had not sounded pleased to see him.
She stood just outside the doorway with a dubious expression.
His future duchess was not wearing a fashionable gown, nor was she half-hidden beneath a dingy mobcap and a maid’s apron. She had retreated to her wallflower disguise. Her arms were folded beneath her bosom and her ice-blue eyes sparked with fire.
“Performing the next step,” he replied at once. “You value efficiency, so I doubted you’d wish for me to dawdle. How did you sleep? I missed you when—”
“Do youeverlisten to me?” she burst out. “I said no.”
“Yes,” he agreed, frowning. “And then we removed our clothes and performed an act reserved for husbands and wives—”
“—or whores and dockworkers, or courtesans and lords, or spinsters and whomever they bloody well fancy.”
He blinked. “I’m actually not certain that’s how that works. At least not for respectable spinsters. Any young lady, married or not, who hopes to maintain a proper reputation—”
“When have I ever been proper?” she demanded. “Or showed any inclination to stay in the tiny box society has painted for me? Nameonetime I was exactly like all your proper young ladies.”
“I…”
“You don’t wantme,” she said. “You wantyourvision, your limitations, your terms. You want a Diana-shaped marionette that will simper on cue and never risk her precious voucher to Almack’s.”
His muscles tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“To either of us,” she agreed, eyes flashing. “You have the right to marry a perfect little doll. Go find her. As long as I’m unwed, I have the opportunity to live asIplease.”
“I would never—”
“You already have.” Her voice was hollow. “You still do. That’s the problem. I will not give up my principles or my battles, and you won’t accept me with them. We can’t have each other. Not like that.”
He shook his head in confusion. “But you let me…”
“I didn’t let you do anything,” she said through clenched teeth. “Last night was both of us, deciding together. If you can’t see the difference…” Her fingers shook. “It would be better if you weren’t still here when my cousin comes downstairs. Goodbye, Cole.”
She moved aside, leaving no doubt that she wished for him to leave with as much alacrity and efficiency as he’d demonstrated in his unsolicited visit.
Cole inclined his head, and did as she wished.
There was no point in arguing. This time, her unequivocalnohad been more than clear. Even to a pining fool like him.
He returned to his carriage, but not to his town house. He wasn’t ready for the permanence of its unwelcome emptiness yet.
