12
GENTLEMEN CALLERS
The double doors to Lady Guinevere’s office were more intimidating than usual, the guards stationed outside somehow more deadly.Diana knew that the one on the right—named Harold—would wink whenever Miss Maple looked his way.And the one on the left liked to take his luncheon in the roof garden because he adored butterflies.These men were good with knives but could be gentle with their hands when they wished.Her rescuer Ned offered ample proof of that.When he wasn’t out guarding some woman Lady Guinevere had deemed in need of protecting, the intimidating man was flirting with Sarah, a potion mistress whose fleeting glance could make him blush.
The question was: Were the guards supposed to be gentle or deadly with her today?What were Lady Guinevere’s intentions?She’d never find out standing here.
“I’m expected,” she told the guards.
Harold pushed one of the doors open, and Diana entered.
All was as usual.Mr.Bran kept to his usual corner, this time polishing a pistol, and the raven hopped about on its perch.Lady Guinevere stood at the window, peeking through the curtains.The sunlight torched her yellow hair into a halo.
“You’re early, Miss Chester.”
“I could not sleep.”
“Because you were out late last night?”
“Is there a curfew I was unaware of?”Irritating to speak to a back, and she did not succeed in keeping that irritation from her voice.
“No.”Lady Guinevere finally turned around.“Only, I worry.”
“I thank you for your concern.”
“Well, your life was, quite recently, threatened.And you left Finsbury last night with a man you barely know.”
“I think I know him rather well by now.”Especially after last night.“Why have you requested to speak with me this morning?”
Lady Guinevere sat at her desk, and the raven hopped onto her shoulder.She cooed at it, then steepled her fingers and faced Diana.“You prefer to leave out pleasantries.I approve.Let me be direct, then.What do you plan to do, Miss Chester?After you leave here?”
There it was.What she’d been afraid of.“Will I be leaving soon?”
“You may remain here as long as you like, but”—she looked about the small and barren room—“it is not a forever home.It seems to me that Lord Knightly is offering you something rather more permanent.At least I hope that’s what he’s offering.I suppose I’ve come looking for gossip.If he offers, will you accept?”
She’d already rejected him.Twice.How could she not with the secrets she carried?“What would you do, Lady Guinevere?If you were being courted by a good man from a lovely family.And your life was complicated, messy.Would you marry him and hope your stain did not bleed onto his life?”
“You are not a stain, Diana.”Her voice held the bold tenor of battle.She would not be argued with.Or she would win.
Diana ducked her head.“Still.”A quiet word, a word awash in silent pain.She pushed the heel of her hand against her eye, holding her breath for a long moment.“Still.What would you do in my position?”
“Easy.I would not hide away.I would fight.And when a champion presented himself, I would not reject him.Women must take what allies present themselves in the war of life.”
“Even if building such connections is not in your allies’ best interests?”
“Even then.”
“Would you… keep a secret from a husband?”
“In a heartbeat.”
So much brutal confidence.This a woman who knew how to survive, a woman Diana must listen to if she, too, wished to survive.“Must I leave here?How much longer may I stay?”
“As long as you like, Miss Chester.”Diana nodded, and had her hand on the door to leave when Lady Guinevere added, “But how long do you think you can freeze your life before it starts up again?Or, a better question: Would you rather wait around for someone to start your life for you, or start it on your own terms and in your own time?”She laughed.“I’m being philosophical this morning.I’m sure you’d rather be on the roof.Go now.”
Diana slipped into the shop and up the stairs where she donned an apron and slipped a wicker basket on her arm.She could stay as long as she needed, as long as she wanted.Thank God.She would not be forced to accept a marriage proposal simply to survive.She could breathe in the lavender morning air with ease now.
She plucked leaves and vines and petals and placed them in her basket, humming and happy she would not have to leave, not be forced into marriage to save her life.When her basket was full, she descended into the still room at the back of the shop and hung several of the plucked specimens to dry.She could leave the entire basket here and the potion mistresses could come get what they needed themselves, as they had been doing, so she did not have to enter the front of the shop often.
