Right. This was Geoffrey’s way of running off, the same way he had the first time he’d kissed her. Wasn’t that just dandy? “Tell me something,” she said to Rosy. “Why didn’t any of you mention that Geoffrey . . . that your brother has a fiancée?”
Rosy blinked. “Because he doesn’t.”
The reply bewildered her. Surely Rosy wouldn’t lie for her brother. As far as Diana could tell, the young woman was generally quite honest. Then again . . . “He told me earlier today that he wasn’t free to marry.”
“I can’t imagine why he’d say such a thing. He’s a very eligible bachelor in Newcastle. At least now that he’s a duke, that is.” Rosy’s face lit up. “Wait, were you two discussing marriage?”
That caught Diana off guard. A pox on him! Now he had her revealing things that she shouldn’t. “To each other? Don’t be silly.” She scrambled to come up with a reasonable explanation. “We were merely discussing how to find a wife for him once he does decide to marry. That’s when he said he wasn’t free to marry at present.”
“I see,” Rosy said, clearly not convinced.
Good Lord, this lying had to stop. Diana didn’t like it, and she was bad at it, besides. “Has he ever had a fiancée? Someone he might still be in love with?” If the Prince of Wales could have a not-so-secret wife, Geoffrey certainly could have a fiancée, or even a wife, whom he kept secret from his family.
Rosy laughed, then took a look at Diana’s face and sobered. “As far as I know, Geoffrey hasn’t even courted anyone. Ever. His bridges and tunnels and canals seem to be his only love. Could he have meant them? Could you perhaps have misunderstood him?”
“Oh, trust me, he was quite clear on the matter.” Her breath started to falter. Had he been clear? She repeated the conversation in her head, and although he’d said very firmly he wasn’t “even free to marry,” he hadn’t necessarily said it had anything to do with another woman.
Or was she just grasping at straws? Either way, he’d been decidedly unforthcoming about whatever he’d meant. “Your brother can be so infuriating sometimes.”
“Not sometimes,” Rosy said. “Most of the time. I am often tempted to box his ears. And I would, too, if I could reach them.”
“How am I supposed to help him when I don’t know what he means and he won’t explain?” Diana hadn’t stayed long enough to let him explain, but that was neither here nor there. He’d probably known exactly how she would interpret his words, and he’d let them stand, the arrogant scoundrel.
Rosy watched her with a troubled expression. “I should probably warn you that Geoffrey tends not to explain himself to anyone, and he’s just as bad about it with me and Mama as he is with anyone else. Honestly, he’s never said anything to us about marriage one way or the other. Or about when we’re moving to Castle Grenwood. Or what Papa might have said on his death bed, if he even said anything. Not a word.”
“And you don’t demand that he tell you?”
“Geoffrey doesn’t do well with demands. He’s very . . . er . . . independent.”
“Determined to have his own way, you mean. I did notice that.” Diana planted her hands on her hips. “And you have no idea what he meant when he said he wasn’t free to marry?”
“None whatsoever. Perhaps he was referring to how he’s been trying to sell Grandpapa’s business? After our grandfather died, Geoffrey ran Stockdon and Sons by himself for years. Papa never had any interest in it, so nothing changed when he died. But after Geoffrey inherited the dukedom and all . . .”
Rosy crossed her arms over her waist. “He and Mama want us three to move to Castle Grenwood, the family seat, in Yorkshire, so he can set about putting the estate to rights. But I hate leaving my friends behind. I only have two, but still . . .”
“I understand,” Diana said kindly. “Female friends are essential to any life in society.”
“Yes! You do understand.” Rosy chewed on her lower lip. “You have sisters, though. A mother, no matter how wonderful she is, cannot take the place of sisters.”
“True,” Diana said, a lump forming in her throat. But sisters couldn’t entirely take the place of a mother either.
It had been weeks since she’d last seen Mama. During the Season, they were all so busy. Still, Diana missed her. Stripped of the anger Mama had felt against Papa, their mother had changed, had become easier to deal with somehow, happy for any crumbs of affection her daughters could offer her. Could it be that Mama had acted the way she did during the marriage solely because of Papa’s adulterous affairs?
Not that it mattered anymore. Regardless of what had caused the rift between Mama and Papa, their marriage wasn’t the best illustration of a successful union.
Geoffrey’s secrecy didn’t bode well for marriage either. Oh, why was she even thinking about him in terms of marriage? He would make an awful husband. Everything would always be his way, and she’d already had enough of that with Papa. Besides, he’d made it perfectly clear that marriage wasn’t something he sought.
Unless it was just her he disapproved of, her he didn’t wish to marry. Did he think her a wanton because of her behavior? If so, a pox on him. It wasn’t as if she’d forced him into anything.
He probably thought she was angling to snag him. That might explain why he’d lied to her about his reasons for not marrying. For pity’s sake, she hadn’t even mentioned marriage—how and why he’d jumped to whatever conclusions he’d made was beyond her. But she was not to blame for it. And she would tell him that once she saw him.
Just not tonight.
“Should I go back to the dancing?” Rosy glanced at the door. “I don’t know what has happened to Geoffrey.”
“Yes, go back. You deserve to enjoy the dinner entertainment. It’s for you after all. But if you’d first find Eliza and send her here, I would vastly appreciate it.”
“And send Geoffrey, too, if I see him?”