Her eyes were alight with glinting desire. Hunger for him was unleashed within her. And all the memories that she had barred were freshly vivid in her mind, heating her bloodstream. How achingly long it had been since she had held him in her arms!
‘Then we shall have an afternoon of love,’ he proclaimed, his voice a husk of desire, his gaze devouring her.
There was a cough, discreet, but audible, and a voice spoke from across the room.
‘Indeed you shall.’ The voice was cool and accented, and very obviously amused.
They turned instantly. Antoine, Comte de Plessis, was standing in the open double doorway, his light gaze resting on them, the slightest smile on his mouth.
‘But not, I implore you, until after lunch!’
His smile widened, and in his gaze Diana could see fond affection as well as humour.
‘I am delighted beyond all things,’ the Comte continued, his voice more serious now, ‘that the reconciliation which I know my brother longed for has successfully been accomplished.’ He bestowed a slight nod upon Nikos, and then Diana, and again that amused smile was flickering at his mouth. ‘And I am even more delighted that I may now properly welcome you, ma chère Madame Tramontes.’
And now he was walking towards them, as Nikos changed his stance so that Diana was at his side, his arm around her waist and hers around his, drawn close against each other. With Gallic elegance he possessed himself of Diana’s free hand, raising it to his lips.
‘Enchanté, madame,’ he murmured as he lowered it again, released it. ‘I can see,’ he said, and now his smile was warm, ‘that it is quite unnecessary for me to say that you have made my brother the happiest of men. I profoundly hope that it is within his capabilities to make you the happiest of wives.’
His smile deepened.
‘And with that concluded...’ he raised his hands in another very Gallic gesture and turned to walk back to the doors ‘...I must, I fear, warn you that your presence in the dining room is required tout de suite, for the culinary genius of my chef—upon which he has called in measures previously unsurpassed to present us with a celebratory dejeuner du midi—is exceeded, hélas, only by the volatility of his temperament. In short, I beg you not to arouse his wrath by a tardy appearance.’
He flung open the doors in a dramatic gesture, infused still with humour.
‘Venez,’ he invited. ‘Love can wait—luncheon cannot!’
Laughingly, their arms still entwined around each other, as their hearts would be entwined all their lives, Nikos and Diana followed him from the room.
From now on, all their days—and all their nights—would be with each other.
For each other.
EPILOGUE
DIANA SAT AT the dressing table in her bedroom at Greymont, putting the finishing touches to her appearance, ensuring she looked her best for her beloved Nikos. And for his brother, and his mother, recovered now from her operation, who’d both arrived this evening to celebrate with herself and Nikos their wedding day on the morrow.
Our real wedding, thought Diana, feeling a wash of love and gratitude go through her. Which will take place in the little parish church.
There would be no guests but Antoine and the Comtesse, who would be their witnesses. Witnesses to the union that would not be the empty marriage of convenience that had brought herself and Nikos together, but a marriage of their hearts that would bind them, each to the other, all their lives.
The marriage she longed to make.
She left her bedroom—their bedroom, hers and Nikos’s—and paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, wondering how she could be so happy. How she could be so blessed. Her beloved home, her beloved Nikos...
But it’s the other way round! It’s my beloved Nikos and then my beloved home! And it is ours together—and our children’s after us.
She descended the marble staircase, glancing in approbation around her. Everything at Greymont was now fully restored as it should be. And now, its beauty renewed, she and Nikos could make plans to open Greymont to the public for periods during the summer. How pleased her father would have been at that!
And at her married happiness. She sent a wish towards him, full of love and gratitude, then smiled at Hudson as he waited benignly at the foot of the stairs.
She walked into the drawing room, her silken skirts swishing. Nikos and his brother rose immediately, and Nikos came to take her hand, walking with her to the woman sitting by the fireside. So petite, so frail, but despite the lines of fatigue around her eyes her gaze on Diana and her son was filled with an emotion Diana knew only too well—for it was in her own eyes too, whenever she gazed at Nikos.
Diana stooped to kiss her, welcoming her to Greymont. It was the first time Nikos’s mother had been strong enough to make the journey, and Diana knew that both Nikos and Antoine were treating her like precious porcelain. It was a cherishing kind of care that drew the two brothers ever closer together, and Diana rejoiced in it. They had so many years to catch up on.
She rejoiced, too, that shortly after her belle mère and her brother-in-law had returned to Normandy Greymont would be host again—to royalty this time.
Princess Fatima had wasted no time, on receiving payment in full of the loan she had made to Diana, paid by Nikos, in discovering what had transpired to bring this about—and she was thrilled at what she had discovered. She wanted to see for herself, she informed Diana, and therefore she would honour them with a visit—‘to take afternoon tea!’ she had exclaimed gaily.