“Try hard.” And he would, too.
Then, tomorrow, he would begin to talk about his father’s secrets to his family. And perhaps then he might learn—from both Mother and Rosy—what they knew and hadn’t told him. It was time the secrets among them were unveiled. Because how else could he convince the woman he desired to marry him?
* * *
The ride back to Grosvenor Square seemed eternal. Diana was so very tired, and not just from managing Rosy’s ball. Talking to Geoffrey was utterly exhausting.
And Verity was on a tear again about the mysterious stranger who kept showing up at affairs they arranged. “At least Grenwood saw him, too, so I know for certain I’m not imagining things.”
“Did Grenwood know who he was?” Eliza asked.
“No,” Verity said. “But I’m not surprised, are you? We did the guest list almost entirely, except for all the engineer friends he insisted upon inviting.”
“You’re very quiet, Diana,” Eliza said. “Did you think it went well?”
“Oh, it went very well, from my perspective,” Verity said. “Rosy gained a number of suitors, and Diana gained the only one she wanted.”
Diana blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“The Duke of Grenwood asked me if I would approve of his marrying you.”
A thrill coursed through her before she quashed it. “What did you tell him?”
“That it wasn’t for me to approve. That he should ask you.”
Diana huffed out a breath. “Well, he hasn’t really done that, so don’t be building any houses for us just yet.”
“He said that he’d ‘sort of’ asked you.” Verity cocked her head. “So are you saying he did not?”
“I gather that he muddled that part a bit,” Eliza said dryly. “But then, the duke is not known for being good at . . . well . . . dealing with delicate situations.”
“That pretty much sums him up,” Diana bit out. “The man can be utterly infuriating—taking things for granted and making assumptions. Why, I don’t even know if I’d want to marry him, even if he asked. Can you imagine what marriage to him would be like?”
“I can.” Verity got a dreamy look on her face. “You have to admit it would be lovely waking up to a man with a fine form like his.”
“Good Lord,” Eliza said. “You’ve never even woken up to a man at all. How do you know what it would be like?” Eliza turned to Diana. “But she has a point. There are . . . certain compensations to being married to a fellow of his . . . attributes.”
Fortunately, it was too dark for her sisters to see Diana’s furious blush. She looked out the window. “Oh, thank heavens we’re home. I don’t think I can bear another moment of you two talking about my . . . possible future husband in such bold terms.”
The sleepy footman came to put down the step. When he started to open the door, Eliza said, “Wait for one moment, will you?” and then seized the door handle.
“Eliza!” Diana chided. “The poor man is about to fall over. And I no doubt will fall on top of him. Let us out.”
“Just answer one question for me,” Eliza said, “and you may leave the carriage.”
Diana dragged in a heavy breath. “What?”
“Are you in love with the duke?”
Glancing from Eliza to Verity, Diana contemplated fobbing them off with some mealymouthed answer. But they would just keep badgering her until they got to the truth. “Of course I’m in love with him.”
Oh, Lord, she was. And she’d never even meant to be so. How could she have lost her determination to hold firm so easily? When had things changed from How can I slide past Geoffrey to get this thing done? to How can I get him to slide inside me again?
She groaned. “Who wouldn’t be in love with the man?”
“I wouldn’t,” Verity said, “although I must admit that his body—”
“Yes, yes, you were rather vocal about that already,” Diana said irritably, then looked at Eliza. “Now, are you going to open the damned door or not?” Before she started crying. Before she could think about how hard it was to be in love with a man who probably only loved her for her body and her breeding capability, because he clearly didn’t respect her opinion at all.