Page 36 of Romanced By the Orc

Once they reached an understanding as to the future state of their marriage, she would lease a humble townhouse near Bloomsbury. She could visit Lil daily and walk in the square as a respectable married woman, even one living separately from her husband. She could hound the politicians as much as her heart pleased.

She hadn’t counted on how alluring the vast expanse of this place, the outward affirmation of Albion’s wealth and status, would be. But then, had he not told her marriage could be fun? When she received callers, all the ladies and gents of thetonwhohad shunned her for her perceived indiscretion would envy the fine match.

Perhaps she and Albie might live under the same roof permanently. If they both agreed to it. If only she could do away with the gnawing feeling that she deserved none of this. Her father’s words, the ever-present humiliation inherent in them, still haunted her.Mind that you do nothing to embarrass your new husband. I will not allow you to shame this family again.

“I meant that we never know what the future holds,” Diana said.

Izzie gave her a strange look, but Diana only ran her finger along the shiny reddish varnish on an oval side table and pretended a great interest in the wainscoting.

“Even so, you fit well enough in this place, miss,” Izzie told her. “Like you right belong in a posh manse such as this.”

“I shall host a political salon here,” Diana said, voice high and flipping her hand in the air grandly. “And serve high tea to the best and brightest. As a true Lady of the Hidden Realm.”

“Now that sounds like a plan we must set to straightaway.”

Albion had chosen that moment to stroll into the drawing room, so tall his horns nearly brushed the plaster roses on the transom, looking dapper in his cream-colored muslin shirt, though the rest of his wedding finery was gone. His valet had loosely tied the matching cravat at his throat. She spotted a button undone just under the waistcoat.A thrill shivered down her spine.

“Gads,” Izzie said under her breath.

“Apologies for my tardiness, ladies. But I’m glad to hear you make good use of your time. We must talk further about these high teas.”

Diana dropped her hand, vaguely embarrassed that he had heard all that, especially the “Lady of the Hidden Realm” bit.

“Welcome, my Daisy,” he said, sweeping into a bow and kissing her hand. It lasted no longer than a few seconds, but the silky feel of his lips was delicious. “I take it your new home is acceptable?”

“Yes, I suppose it shall do.”Diana gave a bold wink at that to signal she was only being playful.

“I am given to understand that the Empress of Russia might boast of more opulent living conditions, but it was the best I could manage.”

He winked right back. Her heart flip-flopped most irrationally.

“You remember Isabel?” Diana waved as Izzie gave Albion a quick curtsy. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice how easily her face flushed in his presence. “My lady’s maid. Her brother Isaac will join us presently from my father’s house.”

“I hope you find your quarters to your liking, Miss Isabel. Would you like to see them?”

He tugged on a long silken cord hanging near a landscape painting of the Midlands. Within a minute, the housekeeper came round: a no-nonsense woman of about fifty who wore a stiff black dress with her chatelaine of keys and other household tools rattling against one another. Introduced as Mrs. Waverly, she swept Izzie away to see the area of the house designated for the servants’ residence.

This left her alone with Albie, a natural state for a man and woman, but Diana’s heart raced.

“I trust Mrs. Waverly shall take good care of Izzie,” she said.

Albie cocked his head as though he was privy to a joke with her at its center, and yet found her all the more fascinating for it. “Izzie?”

“Isabel. Do you not use affectionate names in the Hidden Realm? Other than for brides, of course.”

“Naturally. I only find it a rarity among the English and their domestic employees. Would you like to view your set before your trunks are delivered?”

Diana nodded awkwardly. Her heart pumped at an alarming rate, and she silently chided herself for this foolishness. What was there to be worried about now?

His hand touched her waist and sent a lightning flash of lust right to her very center.Thatwas what made her nervous. Only to be expected, she supposed.

Albie was a solid nine inches taller and nearly twice her size across. But he moved with the elegance ladies strove for at their debut before the court. How could she overcome her ungainliness in the face of such grace?

She shadowed Albion as he strode toward the curving staircase, an edifice as imposing, if not more so, than anything at the British Museum. The white marble handrails gleamed, as did the carved balusters. Above, a gilt-edged painting depicting angels floating among clouds and a clear blue sky spanned across the ceiling.

“My set of apartments are to the right,” he told her once they arrived on the upper landing. “And yours to the left. So we might part ways at the end of the evening and have the utmost privacy.”

Diana wandered around the three rooms that were hers: for sleeping, receiving or painting or reading or whatever she wished to do. And she would tend to her ablutions in a sumptuous claw-foot tub. The pale yellow walls and fresh white curtains reminded her of daisies. She thought Albie must have ordered them, particularly for that reason.

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