“At least you’ve had one female in your life who wasn’t trying to trap a future duke into marriage,” Will said thoughtfully. “Why did she think marriage was impossible?”
“For one thing, I was not of legal age. For another, she’s five years older than I.”
“Not an outrageous difference,” Athena said. “Surely there was more.”
“Castleton,” Anthony said bitterly. “Our thrice-damned sire. He would never have given permission for any number of reasons, starting with the fact that he certainly did not want me to choose my own bride. He had someone else in mind for me.”
“Granted you were young, but as the daughter of an earl, Lady Diana is sufficiently wellborn and the age difference was not insurmountable. What more did the old duke want for you?” Athena asked, puzzled.
“You only met him once in your life,” Anthony said wearily. “For which you can be thankful. He had anger in his veins instead of blood. Railing against others was his greatest pleasure, and heloathedall Lawrences. That was Diana’s main reason for refusing, I think. She believed I would be put in an intolerable position.”
He sighed. “She may well have been right. And the reverse is true. If we had run off to Scotland to get married, the consequences for her might have been disastrous.”
“Are you still in love with her?” Athena asked softly.
“I don’t know. It’s been seven years and we’re both vastly different.” He smiled without humor. “Was I ever in love with her, or is infatuation something different? I do know it was a mutual madness that was the most important thing in my world for a time. Now . . .” He spread his hands helplessly. “Just seeing her almost paralyzed me. I have no idea what to do about her. Or me.”
“I’m not sure there is a difference between love and infatuation. Perhaps infatuation is the first stage of a great and lasting love,” Will mused. “But I do know that losing a great love can paralyze one’s heart for a very long time. I married young and when my wife died in childbirth I joined the army and hoped the French would give me an honorable death. They didn’t, thank God. I survived long enough for my heart to heal, and to meet Athena.”
Anthony hadn’t known that Will had been married before, and the revelation gave him a new appreciation for his brother-in-law. “I don’t think that joining the army is the answer for me, but I’m not sure what is.”
“You need to spend some time with Lady Diana,” Athena said seriously. “Just now you’re stuck in the shock of a lost love who has reappeared. Put on your best cool but courteous ducal face and call on her. Take her for a drive in the park and buy her an ice at Gunter’s. Though it may be too cold for that. Just be very casual as if you had never been more than mere acquaintances. As you come to know her better now, the magic of the past may fade away, leaving only a few fond memories. Or perhaps you will become friends, or you may find that you don’t like the woman she is now.”
Anthony doubted that. “Your advice is good, but what if I find I’m still mad about her?”
“Then you can court her again, this time being of legal age and without the dark cloud of the duke hanging over you,” Will said promptly. “And if she accepts you, you’ll know that she is the one woman in London who isn’t after your title and wealth.”
Anthony had to laugh. “There is that. Very well, I shall pay a courtesy call on her and Lady Aurora tomorrow in thanks for the masquerade. I shall be pleasant, friendly, and casual. And we shall see what happens.”
Chapter 7
The ball had gone on to the wee hours and Diana hadn’t slept well after, so she came down late and found the breakfast room filling with flowers. Rory had arrived earlier and was yawning delicately over a cup of tea. “The number of flowers delivered this late in the year is a tribute to the success of the ball.”
She waved at the long serving table set against a wall that was now almost completely covered with bouquets. “The servants are bringing them here so we can enjoy the wonderful colors while we eat. Your duke sent two floral offerings, one to me as hostess and one for you as performer. They’re on the left end of the serving table.”
“He’s not my duke,” Diana said a bit tartly. “Merely an acquaintance.” She surveyed the flowers. Between a vase of chrysanthemums and another of lilies, she saw a long gray and white face with crossed blue eyes. She scratched between his pointed ears. “Your Norwegian Ice Cat is lurking amidst the blossoms.”
“He likes the illusion of forest,” Rory explained.
Diana’s gaze moved on. “Let me guess. This largest bouquet with wildly expensive out of season roses is from Castleton? Yes, I see that it is. Courteous of him, but since he could afford to buy Denmark, I’m not overly impressed by the cost.”
“True,” Rory said, her eyes dancing. “But I find it interesting that he sent you the nosegay next to it. Small and not at all expensive, but very pretty. Is there any significance to that?”
“He probably only sends extravagant bouquets to hostesses.” Diana found the nosegay, which was an exquisite arrangement of daisies and tiny ferns tied with a gold ribbon. Damn the man! He was reminding her of an afternoon walk through the forest they’d made one early summer day not long after they met. They’d settled on a log by a stream and he’d assembled a similar nosegay for her and presented it with a kiss. Their first kiss . . .
She swallowed hard and opened the small note attached to the nosegay. “It’s a thank-you for the dancing, which was kind of him.”
“I met him a time or two during my first London season, when he was still Stoneleigh. I found him rather boring, but he has beautiful manners.” Rory poured a cup of tea for Diana. “Tell me, what were your favorite parts of the ball?”
Diana seated herself and complied. Soon they were laughing over coddled eggs and toast. As she finished her second cup of tea, she said, “You may want to start a tradition of late season masquerade balls. All the guests seemed to have a fine time.”
“Our dance helped make it special. Maybe the tradition should include us always performing a Hindu dance?”
“Sorry, I can make no promises. If we never perform again, the dance last night can become a legend.” Diana lowered her voice soulfully. “People will boast they were here the night it was performed!”
Always willing to play along, Rory said breathlessly, “It will become such a remarkable occurrence that members of thetonwill lie about having seen us! Soon the number of people claiming they were guests last night shall exceed the capacity of the house!”
Diana laughed. They’d always loved batting comments and jokes back and forth. She’d missed this banter. Oddly, she and Anthony had bantered rather like this. He was not boring when he was alone with her. He’d been quietly witty, with an inquiring mind and a deliciously dry sense of humor. Did he still have those traits, or had they been crushed by the responsibilities of the dukedom?
