“Yes?” His voice sounded as though he wished her to conduct her business and disappear. Diantha swallowed and held out the crumpled yellow sheet.
As soon as he saw it, he came around the desk. With an arm around her shoulders, he guided her into a chair. “My dear, what is it? Has something happened to your grandmother?” He knelt in front of her, enfolding her hands in his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She searched for a way to break the news gently, then gave up. “My parents are coming.”
Chapter 11
Given what he’d learned of his in-laws during his betrothal, this information did not surprise Kieran. While he hardly fancied close proximity to them, he did not share the apprehension that radiated from his wife. Her implication of the previous night still rankled, but her trembling lips undid him.
He tucked a wayward brown tendril behind her ear, allowing his fingertips to linger on its softness. “It won’t be that bad.”
“ ‘Won’t be that bad?’ “ Her eyes changed from fearful to furious and she shoved his shoulder so hard he nearly fell backward. “You’ve never had to live with them!”
He scrambled to his feet, aware of how undignified he must look, but Diantha did not appear to notice. He stepped back as she stood and paced across the room.
“This is nothing but an inspection tour.” She crossed back to him, still clutching the telegram. “And they’re all coming! My parents, my brothers, even Granny.”
Kieran plucked the wadded sheet from her hand and smoothed it out. He frowned as he read the long and sharply worded message. “You’ll enjoy seeing your grandmother again, surely?”
“Yes, of course.” She sighed. “But what will I do with the rest of them?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I’ll take your father and brothers in hand. They’ll be here when grouse shooting starts.”
Diantha gazed up at him, eyebrows raised. “You’ll help? Truly?”
“Of course I’ll help. What kind of bounder do you think I am?” His lip curled. “Oh, wait! You did make that clear last evening.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry. Your offer is especially kind in light of my remark last evening. It was uncalled for. You’ve always treated me with the utmost consideration.” A dry note entered her voice. “In the bedroom, at any rate.”
He crossed his arms. “I beg your pardon, but I was unaware of mistreating you anywhere else. I am sorry, Diantha, but this is my home and I am entitled to some privacy.”
She turned away from him and walked over to the bookshelves. Staring at them as if they fascinated her, she said, “And I am not? I suggest you do not plan to come to my room the next time you want a—a tumble. This is supposedly my home, too.” He could barely hear the choked-out words.
“You’ve never complained of my touch.” Following her, he ran his palm over the warm column of her neck. “And I think you know that you please me.”
She shivered, then jerked away. “That is irrelevant!
I am reasonably sure we would enjoy conjugal relations in your bed as much as we do in mine.”
A laugh escaped him at the absurd remark. She glared at him over her shoulder, then bit her lip in a not entirely successful attempt to repress a smile.
Relieved that the tension between them had eased, he leaned against the shelves. “This is not directed at you personally, Diantha. My room is offlimits to everyone in the house but my valet. It was during my father’s time as well.”
She faced him fully. “I find that difficult to believe. Your mother always speaks of him with great tenderness. I doubt she’d do so had he fenced himself off from her.”
“It’s for the best.” Kieran retreated to his desk and stared down at the worn leather surface. “She did love him, and I think he cared for her in the beginning. But later—it was exceedingly painful to watch.” He struggled, then said what he had to. “It would be best if we avoided that mistake.”
He looked up, half expecting to see tears after his harsh words. “I’m sorry.”
She returned his regard, her expression unreadable. “Don’t be. The one thing I learned from my family is that a person cannot control who they love, or force someone to love them back. Perhaps you’re right. We should not become overly attached to one another.”
Instead of relief, her words triggered an inexplicable sense of loss. “We could at least try to remain cordial with one another.”
A bleak smile twisted her lips. “Given your continued interest in my bed, that would be preferable. And we still have my family to deal with.”
He invited her to a chair, then seated himself. “I wonder if we should not seek safety in numbers. We could invite some of my Rossburn relations to join us while they visit. You’d need to meet them anyway.”
She tilted her head, considering his suggestion. “I think that might work.”
