“We are not a…a typical group of friends, my dear. Our ranks are filled with men who have suffered greatly and women who have had their own secrets. So if you were Willowby’s mistress and nothing more, I assure you it would not make me like you less. But that isn’t what you are.”
“I would think I know what I am more than anyone. What doyouthink I am?” Diana asked.
Meg laughed again. “Someone who makes Lucas Vincent, Duke of Willowby, stop running. A woman who holds his arm with great protectiveness when he enters into a room where he is uncertain. A woman who seems to belong here in this place.Thatis who you are.”
“He…he didn’t stop running because of me,” Diana whispered, for she had no answer for the rest of Meg’s charges.
“If you insist,” Meg said. “But I’d still like the rest of the duchesses to meet you.”
Diana stared down at herself and blushed yet again. “Your Grace, this is the finest outfit I’m in possession of. Not fit for the company of duchesses, I think you would agree.”
“The color is pretty on you,” Meg said. She stood slowly, steadied herself and then approached Diana. She moved around her, examining her. “You and I are of a similar size, and since I am not currently wearing my usual wardrobe, I think I could solve your problem of dresses.”
Diana’s mouth dropped open. “You cannot be serious that you are offering to let me borrow your clothes?”
“No,” Meg said. “I’d let you keep them. Simon will buy me new things after the baby, for I’m certain my body will change. You would look lovely in my green silk—it will bring out your eyes like jade.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, jade! I have the prettiest necklace and it—”
“Please, Meg,” Diana interrupted. “You are too kind, but—”
“No buts,” Meg said. “Really, let me do this. At least do not refuse me out of hand.”
Diana sighed, for the offer was very tempting. She could tell from the gorgeous cut of Meg’s current gown that whatever she offered would be beautiful beyond Diana’s wildest dreams. That charity felt…wasted. She had no life or place amongst these people.
Yet she felt so comfortable.
“Ladies!”
Both of then turned, and Meg broke into a wide grin as the men strode down the garden path toward them. Diana pushed aside her feelings about Meg’s offer and stared at Lucas. She could not fully read him, but she saw that he looked…relaxed. Happy. And she drew her first full breath since she’d left him nearly an hour before.
The Duke of Crestwood extended his hand and Meg took it, stepping into the circle of his arm with a smile that could have lit a thousand nights. Diana shifted in the face of such adoration between them. It felt almost accusatory as she glanced at Lucas and found him smiling at her.
“Miss Oakford, Willowby tells us you are quite the horticulturist,” Tyndale said. “And that your garden far outstrips this one.”
Diana shook her head. “I often wonder if Willowby had a head injury when he saw my little garden, that he was so enchanted by it when he had this to come home to.”
“Home is where the tasty chicken is,” Lucas murmured. “There were a great many things to recommend your garden, Diana.”
She blushed and was pleased when the others moved to a different topic. Lucas complimenting her garden felt like…exposure somehow. This important thing, laid bare to those who were all but strangers.
“So we’ll have a ball,” Crestwood was saying with a smile for Meg.
She laughed. “In my condition? You might want to have someone else do it.”
“Well, not Adelaide,” Simon said. “For she is in a similar condition, though not as far along as you. What about Charlotte?”
“I would say Charlotte or Emma would be best.” Meg said, clapping her hands. “Oh, a ball. How lovely to have everyone together.”
Tyndale smiled, but Diana thought she saw a tension to his lips. She would have taken more time to wonder at it, but her heart had begun to race. “A ball?” she repeated.
Lucas turned to her. “Yes. Diana, I-I told my friends the truth. About me. About you.”
Her lips parted. She had not been prepared for that statement. “I—oh.”
“The truth?” Meg repeated, tilting her head. “Well, I look forward to wheedling it out of Simon.”
“As do I,” Crestwood muttered.
Meg’s cheeks brightened and she laughed as she said, “But for now, I think we should go.” She moved toward Diana, hands outstretched, and leaned in to buss her cheek gently. “You think about what I offered. You’ll need it even more now if there’s to be a ball and I would love to be of help.”
