ChapterTwenty-Four
Edmund looked at Diana with surprise and wonder, and then laughed, his arms finding their way inevitably around her.
“Really? Are you sure?”
Diana nodded, shy pleasure in her expression.
“This is the second month I haven’t bled, and everything feels… different.”
“Oh Diana.” Edmund whirled her around in his arms and kissed her full on the lips. “You are with child! I thought you looked more beautiful than ever. Now I know why.”
After a moment of reflection, an expression of concern settled on his face, overlying the joy that remained beneath.
“But we will have to marry very quickly now. I’m sorry. There can be no delay.”
“Sorry?” Diana asked, stroking his face with her hands. “I’m not sorry at all. What are you sorry for?”
“Sorry for being so impetuous in the woods. Sorry that you won’t get your full season after all. It meant so much to you, and I wanted you to have it.”
“Edmund Turner.” She laughed again. “I’ve had almost a month in London, and that has already confirmed that there is only one man I want to dance with and he’s in my arms right now.”
Edmund smiled again and dropped to one knee on the carpet before her, taking her hand in his.
“Diana Arnold, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she replied, a mischievous dimple appearing on her cheek. “How many times do I have to tell you, Edmund Turner?”
* * *
As he strolled home early that evening, Edmund felt pleasantly light-headed with the developments of the day, the speedy agreement he had reached with Lord and Lady Templeton, and the several glasses of champagne forced on him by Percy afterwards.
The Arnold family had been happy and accepting of the new proposal, and there had been little questioning of Edmund and Diana’s explanation for the changed speed of their wedding. The gossip column almost publicly outing their romance and the rapid improvement of Lord Templeton’s health were both seen as sensible and sufficient justifications for quicker action.
At his mother’s dictation, Percy speedily composed and despatched an announcement of the upcoming nuptials for the following morning’sTimesand then sent an urgent request for a home visit from Madame Corvette, the dressmaker. In consultation with her father, Diana put together a rather short list of those who should be invited to the service and wedding feast, limited to friends and relatives currently in London.
Meanwhile, Edmund wrote a short message to the Vicar at a church near his London home requesting a short interview the following day and hoping that his family had done enough in terms of service attendance and good works to be considered parishioners.
Once these tasks were complete and messenger boys were racing through the streets of London, a bottle of champagne was cracked open, and even Lord Templeton managed a small glass.
Humming happily to himself as he walked through his front door, Edmund was pleased to see his mother come out to meet him in the hallway.
“I have something for you, Mother,” he said with a playful grin, producing Diana’s guest list from his pocket for Unity to add her side of the family. “We’ve decided to move faster after all.”
“Aha!” Unity said, looking at the names under the heading ‘Arnold’ beside the empty ‘Colborne’ column and instantly grasping what was afoot. She smiled and pulled down her tall son’s face to kiss his cheek but seemed distracted.
“I have something for you too. Less pleasant news, I’m afraid. This came by an express messenger about half an hour ago.”
She handed over a short note in an unfamiliar hand addressed to him, or to her in his absence.
“Good God!” Edmund exclaimed as he read the first lines of the message from Mr. Langford, instantly sobering up despite the earlier champagne. “Can it be true?”
“I am sorry to say that the situation is far worse than we imagined when I wrote my previous letter. It seems that Lady Birks’s cunning and criminal mentality were both far stronger than her guards were prepared for. After slipping away from them, she did not go to ground locally as we imagined, but she assaulted and robbed an elderly lady of her money and clothing.”
With a surge of adrenaline and a wave of cold sweat, Edmund felt himself being ripped from the blissful and erotic imagination of imminent marriage to Diana back into the nightmare of Lady Birks’s insanity.
“It was the corpse of this tragic woman who was found and mistaken for Lady Birks.”
“She’s alive…” he muttered, cursing under his breath, and forgetting to excuse his language to his mother.