Leaving Percy to his reading, Jacob went outside to visit the stables and gardens, consulting the grooms and gardeners about any decisions that needed to be made and taking a ride around the full estate.
Edmund did the same indoors, speaking to Mrs. Bridge and Jenson before spending some time in the sick room with Lady Templeton. In each case, he found that Diana had already been there shortly before him, making the same inquiries and providing the same reassurance to the household. For one so young, she really was doing an excellent job of holding the family together, and her grit impressed him.
Despite any physical resemblance, Diana and Percy clearly had very different characters. He and Jacob had decided that Percy should be left alone in the study until lunchtime to force him to knuckle down and think for himself.
In the meantime, with Diana already having organized so many of the household arrangements, Edmund decided to go to the library and write to his mother. He had promised her regular updates and knew that she would be awaiting his news as well as any messages from Esther.
He shook his head as he thought of the plans for Diana’s marriage, knowing that his mother would be unlikely to approve any more than he did, for she had fond memories of Diana as a child and strong views on the inadvisability of hasty weddings. Still, the pragmatist that she was, he expected that her reply would only advise him not to interfere in such a delicate family matter.
* * *
Diana’s heart jumped as she heard the library door close and footsteps walk across the room towards the writing table. She pulled herself up from the large chair where she had been curled into a ball and forced herself to stop crying as someone peered down at her.
“Diana!” Edmund exclaimed, stepping back. “I thought you were a pile of blankets or clothes on that chair. Shall I leave you in peace?”
She straightened her face as best she could, wiping her tears away with a white handkerchief from inside one of her sleeves with slightly trembling fingers.
“No, I’m absolutely fine, Edmund. Just ignore me. You can use the library. I’ll go and see if Aunt Henrietta is ready to sit with Father in a minute or two. It’s only when she or I are there that Mother will leave him even for a moment.”
“It’s been a long week for you, hasn’t it?” Edmund said, his voice always so calm and reassuring. “I know you’re close to your parents, and it’s natural to be upset. When my father was in his final illness, I certainly cried.”
As Diana looked at him, she felt her distress and consternation breaking again through her polite mask. In contrast to the same emotion from Lady Birks, Edmund’s sympathy made her feel lighter and able to speak more rather than less.
“It’s not that, Edmund. I can be strong for Father and Mother. Until yesterday, I hadn’t cried at all, you know. I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“Then something else is bothering you?” he asked.
Diana nodded and another sob escaped unbidden from her throat. She covered her face with her hands to hide her tears. Quietly, Edmund walked over to her and picked up the handkerchief she had dropped.
“You can tell me,” he assured her as he pressed the damp, lace-edged cotton back into Diana’s hand. Looking at their hands together made her realize that Edmund’s hand was almost twice as large as her own. The disparity in their sizes made her feel unexpectedly protected and safe.
“They want me to cancel my London Season and get married as soon as possible,” she confided in a rush, “to Cousin Andrew. I haven’t even seen him for at least seven years.”
Edmund exhaled thoughtfully and nodded to let her continue speaking.
“He didn’t even like me when we were children, and now, we don’t know each other at all. I have to marry him, but the thought of him touching me makes me feel sick. I can’t bear it! How will I bear it?”
Her last words were like a plea. She stopped herself from saying anything more and felt embarrassment rising. Edmund was Percy’s friend, and he barely knew her as anything but his friend’s younger sister. Until yesterday, he had seen her only as a child.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be speaking to you like this, Edmund. Forgive me. I didn’t have…”
“You didn’t have anyone else to talk to,” he completed her sentence as she paused to find words, and she nodded. Edmund seemed to understand and speak her language so easily, and now, he was looking at her again with that look of intense interest she had never received from a man before yesterday.
“How could I say something like that to Percy? Or to Mother right now? I certainly can’t speak to Aunt Henrietta,” she continued, imagining Lady Birks’s face upon hearing that the idea of touching her precious son revolted his future bride.
“Diana.” Edmund’s deep green eyes met and held her gaze. “Do you like to dance?”
The question was so unexpected and out of place that she laughed, and the expression in his eyes intensified as she smiled at him. The image of Edmund as her daydreamed dancing partner returned, bringing the same strange thrill as when it first occurred.
“Yes, I love to dance. It was what I was looking forward to most about the London Season. Dancing all night…”
“Then, Lady Diana, may I have this dance?” The Duke bowed formally before her and extended his hand. “It’s a waltz, I believe.”
Diana smiled again and stepped forward to take his hand. Edmund drew her into his arms and began humming a light waltz tune as he swirled them about the room. She laughed and moved with him, feeling the strength and elegance of his body as well as the security of his embrace. After several turns around the room, he stopped humming and smiled back at her as they danced.
“So, I’m holding you in my arms and touching you now. Does that feel so very bad?”
“It feels wonderful,” she admitted. It was even better than her daydream because it was real, and because it was Edmund. She could sense the heat of his body close to hers and feel the caress of his breath on her cheek and neck as they spun.