Soon, she would lose this thing between them, this connection that was so tenuous and sometimes perfect. And that was something she had to come to terms with, or risk losing more than she wished to consider.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucas turned Diana down yet another path in the vast garden behind his home, but he was not pondering the beauty around them. No, there was something far more pleasant that intruded into his mind. Her warmth against his side, the feel of her fingers on the inside of his elbow as she pressed them there, the scent of her hair, something warm and sweet that wafted to his nostrils and brought him…peace.
And then there was the wide-eyed wonder on her face as she stared at everything around her. She could almost make a man not hate a place anymore.
“It is magnificent,” she breathed at last, her words almost uncertain, like they were not the right ones.
He forced himself to look around, and then he shrugged. “Not as wonderful as your garden,” he said.
She pulled her arm from his and turned on him with a look of pure shock on her face. “How can you say that?” She moved forward a few steps, her hands clasped. “The fountains, the trees, the flowers…is that hedge trimmed in the shape of a little rabbit?”
He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Yes, a little rabbit. I think there are squirrel hedges and stag hedges and bird hedges, as well.”
“Marvelous!” she said, and clapped her hands together with all the wonder of a child.
“Have you never been to a garden like this?” he asked. “I am rather astonished considering your father’s predilection for plants.”
She glanced at him. “Firstly, my father’s interest was in purely medicinal plants. He thought these sorts of things were foolish. Beauty or other frivolous notions didn’t appeal to him much.”
Lucas inclined his head. “I admit, Oakford was very pragmatic.”
“As far as coming to a place like this, how would I be invited? My father may have known very important men, but I had no place with them. Neither did he, truth be told. He was a merchant, in a way, providing a service for his betters. We were not exactly invited to garden parties.”
Lucas wrinkled his brow. He had been so separate from this kind of life for so long, he had almost forgotten the snobbery involved. He sighed before he spoke. “I suppose you are correct.”
“Of course I am.” Her gaze darted away. “We belong in very different worlds, Your Grace.”
He bent his head as those words sank into his body in ways he doubted she had meant. “Oh, Diana, you have seen my mother. After bearing witness to that little scene between us, do you think Ieverbelonged here?”
She caught her breath and turned to face him. There was her empathy again, fully on display. As warm and healing as the sun above them.
“I’m sorry, Lucas,” she said as she approached him cautiously. Her hand lifted and she settled her palm on his cheek. He leaned into it, reeling in her warmth and her kindness and her strength. He needed it all in that moment, and she didn’t disappoint.
“As am I,” he said softly.
He thought she might question him, but instead she slid her hand back through his arm and guided him forward again, past the huge Zeus fountain his father had so loved and farther into the garden.
They were quiet for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. Finally she glanced up at him. “Who were you writing to? If it does not reveal secrets of the empire, of course.”
He smiled at the teasing tone that was back in her voice. He found he liked it when things were easy like this. Far better than when they were fraught with pain or betrayal.
“No state secrets, except that I obviously need to spread the word that I am back in Society and recovering from my injuries.”
He felt her hesitation. Anxiety seemed to float between them in an instant. But her voice was steady as she said, “I see.”
“I wrote to my friend Simon. Er, the Duke of Crestwood,” he said. “One of the members of my duke club you were asking about before. He is our social butterfly. If he knows, then everyone else will soon know.”
“Your duke club,” she said with a small smile. “I admit I have been interested in that subject ever since my father first mentioned it. You must be the youngest amongst a stodgy group of middle-aged and old men.”
“Iamthe youngest,” he said. “But they are not stodgy. There was an odd set of years where all the dukes, old and young, seemed to have children, heirs, at the same time. We are all within a five-year gap of each other.”
She shook her head. “The group of you must cause quite a stir with the ladies.”
He chuckled. “Truth be told, I don’t really know. I went into service when I was eligible and then into the War Department. My experience as a Society duke is limited. But I assume they are breaking hearts, though several of my friends are now married. Even having families.”
“I suppose you are of the age,” she said, her tone suddenly far away. “How did you form this group?”
