Page 77 of Anything But a Duke
Aidan had helped make this moment possible. She wanted to tell him. He needed to know that she’d fulfilled their promise to Repton, and a day early.
Glancing at the hammer on her workbench, she recalled his hands curved around it, how diligently he’d worked to help her. And their kiss, and all the kisses before that one.
Her machines were done. Success was close enough to taste. But the joy of victory felt incomplete.
Somewhere along the way, what she wanted had shifted. She still craved success with her inventions, to see them put to good use. To be taken seriously as an inventor.
But now she wanted more. She couldn’t deny her feelings, however they might complicate everything she and Aidan had agreed to.
She wanted him, and the need to tell him, to show him what she felt, was as strong as any desire she’d ever known. Whatever else might happen, whatever the future might hold, tonight she wanted to tell him the truth and hold nothing back.
She grabbed a rag and rubbed bits of grease from her fingers, then she untied her smock and headed for her room to wash and change.
“Diana? Is that you?” her mother called out from the drawing room.
“Mama, I was just going out.” She hovered on the threshold, trying to avoid getting drawn into a long conversation.
“Of course you are, my dear. We all are. Have you forgotten that we’re to dine with your uncle this evening?” Her mother flicked a hand toward her. “Go and prepare, Diana, so that we aren’t late. And wear one of your ball gowns. I think he plans for a bit of dancing.”
“Mama, I can’t go tonight.” There was virtually no part of her plan that she could explain to her mother. “I have an appointment that I must keep.”
“Yes, you do. With your family.” Her mother took on the stern look she wore when pleading and arguments would no longer have any effect on her resolve. “You’re out unchaperoned far too often or hidden away in your workshop. Tonight you will accompany your family.”
Diana nodded. She’d been working so feverishly to finish her devices, she’d barely spoken to her mother or Dominick in days. Accompanying them seemed unavoidable.
But as she made her way upstairs, her thoughts were on Aidan. She was determined that the night wouldn’t end without seeing him.
Aidan could never decide whether it was worse attending someone else’s party or hosting one’s own. Two days after his visit to Diana’s workshop, he sat on an overstuffed chair at the edge of his drawing room and decided that, at least on this night, playing host was most definitely worse.
Of course, it wasn’t truly a party. Just a gathering of minds. He usually enjoyed gathering thinkers together to discuss myriad topics. He’d hosted dinner parties with conversation that focused on everything from industrial inventions to Peel’s governmental reforms to the state of banking in the City.
Tonight he couldn’t concentrate as the conversation ebbed and flowed around the topic of transportation. Present were a railroad engineer, the designer of a steamship, and two young men who vowed their steam-powered horseless carriage would soon be as popular on London’s streets as an omnibus.
On any other night, the debates and discussion would have intrigued Aidan, and he would have hoped, if nothing else, a fresh investment opportunity might arise from the evening. But tonight, he just wanted everyone gone. A report from one of his investigators lay unopened on his study desk. In the busyness of preparing for the evening, he hadn’t yet found time to read the report.
He swigged back the last drops of whiskey in his tumbler and was ridiculously pleased when the clock chimed the ten o’clock hour. It was early by the standards of many London parties, but Aidan had long ago designated it as the time when his gatherings drew to an end.
A couple of guests recognized the cue and began taking their leave.
Within half an hour, his drawing room was messy but blessedly empty and quiet. He rang for a maid and made his way back to his study, tugging at the knot of his tie and sliding it off as he entered the room. As soon as he settled in his desk chair, he heard someone rapping at the front door. Ignoring the sound, he slid a penknife across the letter from his Bow Street Runner. A guest often left some discarded personal item. He assumed one of the staff would retrieve it and send them on their way.
After meeting with Callihan, he’d asked his investigators to scour court records, but there was no record of a Mary Iverson ever being charged with any crime in Greater London for the years prior to his mother’s death. There were also some notations regarding the Earl of Wyndham. If the investigators’ information was to be believed, Wyndham had been abroad for months prior to Aidan’s birth, though the investigator could not determine exact dates. The estimate made it improbable, though not impossible, that the man was his sire.
Of course, with no leads to offer, his investigator hadn’t discovered a hint about Aidan’s sister either.
“Bloody hell.” Aidan pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and fought the urge to tear the written report into shreds.
“Bad evening?”
Aidan snapped his head up and wondered if he was dreaming. Diana stood in the doorway of his study, looking beautiful and nervous. She bit her lip as she watched him, and he realized that rather than greet her like a gentleman, he was staring at her like a starving man.
“Diana, come in.” He stood and ushered her into the room.
She wore a pretty blue evening gown with a bodice that dipped low to display her neck and shoulders to mouthwatering advantage. The fabric was a paler blue than the sapphire richness of her eyes. He wondered what event she’d come from in such formal garb.
“My mother dragged Dom and me to dinner at my uncle’s house.” She nibbled at her lip again. “My father’s brother, Sir William Ashby. I like him well enough but he’s vehemently against any lady in the family doing anything like work. Obviously, he doesn’t approve of me.”
When she finally took a breath, a flush of pink colored her cheeks. She seemed to realize she’d been rambling and ducked her head.
