Page 56 of A Duke for Diana
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said. “It is most kind of you, and I know they’ll be glad to receive the donations.”
“I hope so.” When her sisters looked at him oddly, he added hastily, “I mean, I hope it’s enough to make up for the money Elegant Occasions would normally give them.”
“Any gift will help,” Eliza said. “We’ll make sure they get them.”
At that moment, Mr. Norris appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Brookhouse and Lady Rosabel, here to see Lady Diana.”
“Show them in, Mr. Norris,” Diana said.
Once those two entered the room, the noise tripled. Rosy was excited, and so were Diana’s sisters, and everyone was talking at once. Diana thought it safe for her to leave for a few minutes.
She should have known better. Just as she was about to pass through the door that led to their private drawing room, Eliza called out, “Where are you going?”
Fortunately, Diana had an answer ready. “I just remembered something I wanted to offer Rosy to use with her new gown. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as she’d cleared the door and shut it behind her, she hurried to the window and unsealed all of the envelopes Geoffrey had given her. The donations were so incredibly generous that they quite took her breath away. Then, bracing herself for anything, she read the letter in the third envelope:
Dear Lady Diana,
Tonight I wish to meet with you alone. Whether you choose to do so is entirely up to you. But I do believe I have shown you what I promised: that I am neither heartless nor a coward. Please allow me to state my case in person, in private, so we are not overheard. I can think of no other way to explain myself.
If you agree, accept this copy of the floor plan for the building on King Street. I have marked a meeting spot inside. If you can meet me there at 10 p. m., I would be honored.
D
A floor plan? She shook her head. Only Geoffrey the Engineer would offer a floor plan. And who was “D” supposed to be?
Duke. Ohh. She read the note again and realized that if it fell into someone else’s hands, no one would know it was him or what it was about. It could just as easily be a former client of Elegant Occasions or a friend. It didn’t even have to be a man. The care he’d taken to protect her caught her by surprise. She had to admit, he reallycouldbe sweet sometimes.
Not that she would let his efforts be in vain. His note was going right into the fire. But the floor plan . . . she would keep that. Because she, too, wanted to meet alone, if only to see if he meant to tell her more about his situation.
On second thought, she might have a better use for his note. She found a pencil and scribbled a message below his, writing it to D and signing it ML for “My Lady.” Then she tore off the top part, threw it in the fire, turned the envelope sheet inside out, placed her note inside, and secured it with her personal wax. To be extra careful, she left the envelope blank.
She headed for the door, then realized she’d forgotten one thing. Grabbing the reticule she’d actually intended to use for herself, she hurried out into the larger room, where the noise had begun to die down.
First, she approached Geoffrey. “Your Grace, I believe you included a piece of your own mail by mistake with the two donations.” When his face fell to see her holding out what must look like his original, she said in a lower voice, “Perhaps you should open it. It might be important.”
His eyes glinted in the fading daylight. “Very well.” A smile broke over his face when he read the contents. “Thank you, Diana. It was important after all.”
After she shot him a secretive smile, she walked over to Rosy. “Now, here’s the reticule I was thinking of for you. . . .”
The rest of the afternoon faded quickly into evening as they made their final preparations for Almack’s. Mrs. Brookhouse was so proud of her son and daughter that she asked again if she couldn’t attend.
“I’ll simply stand to the side,” Mrs. Brookhouse said. “They’ll hardly even know I’m there.”
“You’re still in mourning,” Diana explained patiently. “It would forever color how people regard you . . . and Rosy, too. You don’t want them to see you as disrespectful of your husband’s memory. It’s one thing when the event is in your son’s home, but at Almack’s—”
“It’s quite another,” Eliza broke in. “People are unkind. Bad enough that those who consider an Almack’s voucher the holy grail tend to pick apart the clothes and behavior of everyone who attends, but they will be especially critical of the three of you. Which is the only reason the three of us are wanting to attend. We can act as a barrier between them and your son and daughter.”
“No need to act as a barrier for me,” Geoffrey said coldly. “I assure you, I know exactly what to say to anyone who is cutting to me or my sister.”
Diana flashed him a pleading glance. “You mustn’t say a word. Anything defensive will make them even more cruel. You must appear bored by the whole experience. You, too, Rosy. That wide-eyed awe of yours was appropriate at St. James’s Palace, but at Almack’s it marks you as a mushroom.”
Geoffrey frowned. “Thefungus? In what way could my sister ever be a fungus?”
“Not an actual mushroom,” Diana said. “It’s a word for someone who springs up to great prominence overnight.”
“That does describe us fairly well,” Geoffrey said. “And also mushrooms.”
