Eliza rose and came toward her. “Didn’t you just see me enter the room?” When Diana frowned, she laughed and added, “Of course I was there the whole time. But I wasn’t about to interrupt that rather interesting scene.” She came close enough for Diana to make out a magazine in her hand. “I dozed off while reading this article His Grace wrote about skew bridges. It was deucedly dull. Although from what I read, he really likes bridges.”
“And canals and tunnels and all sorts of public works, apparently. I had no idea there were so many men engineering those things. Did you know he’s speaking at the Society of Civil Engineers tonight? He had to explain to me what a civil engineer is.” When Eliza opened her mouth as if to speak, Diana said, “And no, it’s not an engineer who is civil to people.”
Eliza’s chuckle halted Diana’s steady babbling, thank heavens. Diana never babbled. But then, she’d also never kissed a duke in the rain or thrust her fingers through his hair or felt such wild impulses that they made her blush even now.
“So what awful thing did he do?” Eliza’s voice had hardened. “I came in here as soon as I heard he’d demanded to see you and was in a temper. I started to go outside to give you moral support, but when I peeked out, it looked as if you had everything well in hand. So I settled down with the journal to wait and I dozed off . . . until your voices woke me just now.”
“Were you spying on me?” Diana asked, mortified at the possibility that Eliza had seen their entire exchange.
“It’s called ‘chaperoning,’ my dear. I know I rarely practice it, but then, you rarely give me reason to. So, for the last time, what awful thing—”
“He did nothing awful to me.”
Eliza’s gaze narrowed on her. “Then why was he apologizing?”
“Because he thought he had.” She pretended to be straightening the cuffs of her gown. How was it that Eliza could make her feel like a five-year-old again, apologizing for some infraction even though she wasn’t sorry? “But I explained to him that he hadn’t.”
“Hmm. Would you tell me if he had?”
Diana eyed her aghast. “Of course I would! But he didn’t. So there’s no reason for all your concern.”
She might still have told Eliza about the kiss if Grenwood hadn’t made it perfectly clear he considered it a mere thing of the moment, something he’d instantly regretted. While that stung, Diana should probably take the same tack. Much as she wanted to savor it, she must let his behavior be her guide.
After all, Grenwood was sure to return to his boorish self tomorrow, after the gentlemen at the Society of Civil Engineers sang praises to his skills tonight. If, as a result, nothing came of her association with him but cordiality, she would hate having revealed the details of their tête-à-tête in the garden to her sisters.
And if he did start behaving differently toward her? If he approached her again, tried to kiss her again?
She tamped down the sudden thrill that gripped her. That was a bridge she’d have to cross when she came to it. If she came to it. Because that was by no means certain.
* * *
If not for the rain and his “fine clothes,” Geoffrey would have walked to his dinner. He needed to clear his head, to remind himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t entangle himself with Lady Disdain . . . no, Diana. He groaned.
Lady Disdain had sure as hell disappeared while he’d kissed Diana senseless. The woman was proving to be more than he’d bargained for. That mouth of hers, oh God, so warm and wet. And her soft skin and her pretty eyes . . .
What was he going to do about her? He wanted her in his arms, in his bed. That was out of the question, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he did. And why couldn’t he stop thinking about that incredible kiss?
He couldn’t believe he’d actually kissed the woman. He couldn’t believe she’d actually let him. No doubt she would give him a piece of her mind once she got over her shock, but by then he’d be calm enough to remind her of his apology, and to point out that the matter was done. Then he’d pray that his impressive title and willingness to pay their exorbitant prices would convince her not to throw him out on his arse.
Just then, his carriage drew up in front of the tavern where the Society met. He’d never been so glad to see a building in his life. Now he could finally put the intoxicating Diana out of his mind. For good, with any luck.
But three hours later, after a fine dinner and a bit of good ale, he was back in his carriage and thinking of Lady Deadly once more. No, Lady Disdain. No, Diana. The woman he was clearly going to have to avoid from now on, because even a long dinner with the most fascinating men he knew couldn’t blot her from his brain.
Worse yet, once he reached Grenwood House, he discovered his mother and sister had been waiting for him the entire time he’d been gone.
“Geoffrey!” Mother cried from the doorway of the drawing room before the footman could even take his greatcoat. “How long do dinners with engineers take anyway?”
He handed off his coat to the footman. “As long as needed to discuss advances in engineering for the past month. Or five. It was all business, I assure you.”
She came up to kiss his cheek, then drew back to eye him skeptically. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Only an ale or two, no more than what I drink every night at dinner. Don’t worry, Mother. I’m not turning into Father yet.”
“I should hope not. Drinking is what killed him.”
Drinking and laudanum. But Mother didn’t know about Father’s use of laudanum, and he wanted to keep it that way.
She squeezed Geoffrey’s hand. “But regardless of his . . . lapses, I hope you know he was very proud of you. When he was in his cups, he boasted about your inventiveness to all who would listen.”