They brought up the impending visit over tea. To Kieran’s surprise, Iona protested even a small house party.
“Your first social event of this sort should mitigate concerns about the family’s current connections, not increase them.”
Seeing Diantha’s murderous expression, he rose to his feet. His father had always advised against dictatorial behavior, but he doubted anything less would quiet his aunt. “I can hardly tell the Quinns to stay away at this point. Their telegram announced their arrival in ten days.”
Lounging in a wing chair near the fireplace, Barclay raised his eyebrows nearly to his hairline. “They invited themselves? I say, that’s rag-mannered. Tell them we’re not at home.”
“We could, but I assure you they would ignore the message.” Diantha sat stiffly and held her untouched tea in her lap, but spoke calmly.
Kieran caught her eye and nodded his approval. “Despite the short notice, I think some of our nearby relations might accept an invitation.”
Iona looked at them askance. “By now they will have either accepted invitations or issued their own. Unless you plan to inflict the likes of Cousin Francesca upon us.” She shuddered.
“That archwife!” Barclay winced. “I beg you,spare us.” He glanced at Diantha. “Her mother was a Rossburn, and her own birth is impeccable, but she made a horriblemésalliance. Her husband is dead and can no longer trouble us, but she remains an embarrassment.”
“I was always quite fond of Francie, and yes, I should like to invite her.” Kieran glared at his relatives. “I trust there will be no further comments.”
Neither Barclay nor Iona spoke for a moment. Then the latter set her cup down with an emphatic clink. “I have just recalled that I have some correspondence which needs to be completed before dinner. Please be so good as to excuse me.” Rising, she sailed out of the room, closing the door behind her with a bang.
Barclay cleared his throat. “I don’t think you’re going to prevail on her to provide much assistance. I know that stubborn expression on her face.” His voice held barely suppressed triumph.
Diantha finally took a sip of her tea. “That hardly matters. I should certainly be able to plan a small house party.”
Barclay stared at her. Kieran said nothing, but he harbored doubts as well.
He need not have worried. Immediately after breakfast the next morning, Diantha disappeared into the morning room with MacAdam and Jarrard, emerging only to ask Kieran for the directions of those persons he wished to invite.
Ten days later, he and Diantha stood at the top of the steps and watched three traveling carriages clatter into the main courtyard. A truce had developedbetween them, but she remained distant. He had gone to her bed once in the days since their conversation in his office, but even while her physical reaction sated him, she seemed to hold part of herself back even as she moaned in pleasure.
He attempted to flirt with her in the hope of coaxing out her impish sense of humor, but she answered his teasing with composed civility.
He glanced down at her. Just now she looked pale and tense, despite her daily riding lessons. And she’d barely touched her meals for the last few days. He stroked her arm. “I’m sure everything will go well.”
She responded only with a tight smile and returned her attention to the approaching vehicles.
The servants’ coach, encumbered with luggage, swept around the house toward the stables. The other two rolled to a stop at the bottom of the broad steps. The first disgorged Diantha’s father and brothers, while footmen assisted her mother and grandmother out of the other.
“Papa, James, Thomas—how agreeable to see you again.” Diantha held out her hands as her brothers ascended the steps.
Thomas turned to take in the valley’s expanse. Late afternoon sunlight and shadows chased each other across fields and hills. Crofters made their way along the road to their homes. The cottages stood out in the distance as the light touched their whitewashed stone.
“I do believe we’ve discovered the edge of the world, James.”
His brother, who had not gotten any thinner in the last months, puffed up behind him. “Neverseen so much empty space. However do you occupy yourself, Rossburn?” He gave Diantha’s outstretched hand a perfunctory peck.
“Should have told us to bring more than a paltry newspaper to read on the way.” Mr. Quinn brushed past his daughter. “My regards, Rossburn. I take it refreshments are inside?”
Appalled, Kieran gave a curt nod. “Tea awaits us in the drawing room.”
Diantha stepped forward. “We also have coffee if you prefer, along with scones and sandwiches.”
“Mouse food.” Her father grumbled under his breath as he waited for his wife. She, engulfed in an ecru serge mantle, bustled up the steps and scrutinized Duncarie’s classical façade. “I expected a lord’s house to be more impressive.”
Before Kieran could say a word, she grasped Diantha’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Let me see you.” Her lips pursed. “You should be increasing by now.”
Diantha’s face turned bright red and her hands fluttered defensively to her still slender midriff. Kieran placed an arm around her waist.
“As my wife’s health is excellent, I am not overly concerned about our immediate prospects for a family.”
