“I suppose.” But then she turned in the seat to face him. “I’ll wager this magnificent pair can almost fly. Is there a road somewhere that you could give them free rein?”
A wager?Greys flicked her a sideways glance. Her sense of wonder should no longer surprise him.
Setting his gaze on the road ahead, he considered one particular run near the edge of town where he’d gone to race on occasion. She was correct in thinking that they could practically fly in this curricle that he’d had specially made by the top builders at Barkers on Chandros Street.
Although he’d never raced at breakneck speed with a woman at his side.
He’d talk her out of it.
“You aren’t afraid of overturning?” he asked.
“I trust your driving.” She’d also trusted his skills when he’d taken her out on the boat. She was too trusting.
“But you’ve never driven with me before.”
“Did you forget whose sister I am? I can think of at least three occasions when Chase returned from losing a race to, and I quote,that damned marquess.”
Greys raised a hand to his mouth to keep from grinning like an idiot. “Damned marquess, eh?”
“Precisely. So, no, I’m not afraid of crashing or any other nonsense. I’m more afraid of…”
But she fell silent again.
“What are you afraid of, little one?” He truly wished to know.
Because he was coming to appreciate that she had something of an audacious spirit.
She’d been afraid of going on the lake but faced that fear head-on. And then literally laughed at it after they’d fallen in.
Unease, summoned by the memory, reminded him to speak with Chaswick about swimming lessons.
“You will think me foolish,” she said.
“Probably.” Greys didn’t bother to correct such an assumption.
“Very well,” she glanced at him with a wince. “I’m afraid that I will miss out on all the things my mother missed out on.”
She was facing away from him now, staring at the elegant residences lining the streets of Mayfair.
From what Chase had told Greys, he knew that Mrs. Jones had spent most of the past five years in her bed, having suffered a stroke.
“She wasn’t always so isolated, was she?” he asked.
Diana shook her head. “No, but even before she took ill, she rarely went out in public.”
“That was her choice, though.”
“Partly. She hated the hostile stares. My father was mostly discreet, to protect his wife. Unfortunately, he was not so protective when it came to shielding his mistress from gossip.” Diana cut him a meaningful glance. “People know who she was—or rather what she was.”
The mistress to a wealthy baron. Women of theTonwould have considered her no better than a common whore. No further explanation was required.
He turned the horses west. If Diana wished to race across the countryside, she would race across the countryside. Not at the breakneck pace he enjoyed himself, but she’d experience something faster than a trot.
She seemed to have forgotten her request for the moment, however, and turned so that she practically faced him again. “Everyone in the entire world knows my life. Even you know some of the most private details surrounding my upbringing.”
Greys dipped his chin, still watching the road. She was not wrong.
“Tell me something about your childhood. What were you like as a boy? What were your parents like? Were you always so serious and proper?”
