Chapter 16
“You must forgive my bluntness, my dear, but I have decided something most firmly this morning,” Lady Salford declared.
Her voice rang brightly across the breakfast room, full of the same lively confidence she seemed to bring into every space she occupied. She set down her porcelain teacup with theatrical finality, the delicate clink against the saucer sounding far louder than such a small movement had any right to.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows behind her, filling the room with soft golden light that glimmered against the silver service laid across the table. Outside, the early summer garden stretched into bloom, but inside the room, all attention had very suddenly settled on Diana.
Alexander was sitting across from her, one arm resting lazily along the back of his chair, the other near his teacup.
The light caught faintly in his sandy hair and along the rough line of his beard, sharpening the strong angles of his face in a way that made him look both relaxed and attentive at the same time.
Lady Salford leaned forward slightly in her chair, her sharp eyes bright with mischief as she regarded Diana with unmistakable delight.
“My grandson,” she continued, nodding with decisive satisfaction, “has received great and undeserved good fortune.”
Diana blinked, unable to grasp the words at first. They suspended somewhere between humor and sincerity, and she could not quite decide which one Lady Salford intended.
Lady Salford leaned farther forward, resting her forearms lightly on the polished surface of the table as though preparing to deliver a secret of great importance. “By marrying you.”
Diana felt the warmth rush up her throat and into her cheeks so quickly it startled her. It was as though someone had suddenly opened a door somewhere inside her chest and let the heat pour straight to her skin.
“I declare, my dear, if you blush any harder, the roses in the garden will resign their positions.”
The porcelain trembled slightly in Diana’s fingers as she hurried to set it back down upon the saucer before she did something truly embarrassing, like spilling tea across the immaculate white linen.
“Lady Salford,” she protested softly, though the protest lacked any real force because she was already laughing under her breath, “you exaggerate most terribly.”
But even as she said it, the warmth refused to leave her face. It had been a very long time since anyone had valued her like that. The unfamiliar kindness caught her completely off guard.
Across the breakfast table, Alexander’s mouth twitched.
It was not quite a smile. She had begun to recognize that particular movement during the past weeks, though she would never admit to having studied him closely enough to notice such things.
The corner of his mouth lingered in that faint upward curve for only a moment before smoothing again, but Diana had already seen it. And somehow, that made everything worse, because it meant he was agreeing with Lady Salford, and she didn’t quite know what to do with that.
Diana kept her gaze fixed carefully on the breakfast table, pretending great interest in the delicate pattern painted along the edge of her porcelain plate, afraid that one wrong move could reveal much more than she intended.
Lady Salford, however, was not finished.
“My dear girl,” she continued warmly, “I have spent the better part of the last three days observing you with great care. One must be diligent when assessing the woman who has married one’s only grandson.”
Alexander lifted his coffee cup lazily. “That appears quite ominous.”
“Oh hush,” Lady Salford said cheerfully, waving him off without looking at him. “You ought to be grateful that I approve.”
Diana lowered her eyes to her plate, but the older woman’s words had already struck their mark.
For a year, she had trained herself not to think of marriage at all, and it had become something distant, almost theoretical. A title she carried. A circumstance she inhabited. Not a living bond between two people.
The sort of marriage Lady Salford was speaking of did not belong to her. Those things belonged to women like Emma, who laughed easily beside a man who adored her, whose husband looked at her as though she were the best decision he had ever made.
Diana’s own marriage had been a transaction, neat and practical. And yet the words lingered stubbornly in her mind, refusing to behave like the empty thing she had forced it to become. Hope, once awakened, was far more dangerous than disappointment ever had been.
Lady Salford’s voice broke through her thoughts again.
“You are thoughtful, you are gracious to the servants, and you are clever enough to argue with my grandson without fainting,” the dowager continued. “That alone qualifies you as exceptional.”
Alexander set his cup down. “You are aware that you are complimenting her at my expense.”
“Yes, naturally.” Lady Salford turned back to Diana with a satisfied nod. “You see? Proof that you are already improving him.”
Diana laughed softly. “You give me far too much credit.”
“No. I give you exactly the credit you deserve,” Lady Salford said firmly. She leaned back in her chair, studying Diana with open affection. “My dear, do you know what I expected when I arrived?”
Diana shook her head.
“Something dreadful,” Lady Salford said frankly. “A proud duchess who would treat the household like furniture and speak only of gowns and titles.”
Alexander muttered under his breath, “That does sound like the ton.”
Lady Salford ignored him.
“But instead,” she said, tapping the table lightly, “I find a young woman who reads at breakfast, who thanks the footmen by name, and who manages to endure my grandson’s temper with admirable patience.”
Diana felt her blush deepen again. “I assure you, he has not been so terrible.”
At that, Alexander finally looked directly at her. The movement was subtle, almost careless, yet Diana felt it immediately. His gaze settled on her face with a quiet intensity that made her stomach tighten.
“You are generous,” he said.
The words were spoken in his usual calm tone, but something about them lingered. Something warmer. Diana had to look away first.
Lady Salford clapped her hands together lightly. “There you see!” she said triumphantly. “Even he agrees.”
Alexander leaned back in his chair. “I agreed to nothing.”
“You did not object either,” she shot back.
He sighed faintly. “I am outnumbered.”
Diana smiled despite herself. It still felt strange sometimes to watch this side of him, the quieter exchanges, the dry humor that surfaced when he was relaxed.
Before his accident, she could scarcely imagine the Duke of Rosewood sitting at a breakfast table, trading teasing remarks with anyone. Least of all her.
Her gaze drifted toward him again before she could stop herself.
He had rolled his sleeves slightly that morning. The linen shirt clung faintly to the breadth of his shoulders, and the movement of his forearm as he reached for his cup drew her attention in a way that felt entirely inappropriate for a respectable breakfast table.
Her mind betrayed her with sudden clarity. Those same hands had been on her waist during their dance rehearsal. Those same hands had lifted her chin before he kissed her.
“Lady Salford.” The quiet voice from the doorway startled her.
Diana looked up quickly.
The butler stood just inside the breakfast room, his posture perfectly straight, a small silver tray balanced in his hands. A folded note rested upon it, sealed with dark wax.
“For you, madam.”
The dowager’s eyes brightened immediately. “Well, that looks promising,” she said with cheerful interest.
The butler approached the table and held the tray toward her. Lady Salford accepted the note at once, her curiosity so open and unguarded that Diana could not help smiling faintly.
She unfolded the paper with brisk efficiency and began to read. For a moment, her expression remained perfectly neutral. Her sharp eyes moved quickly across the page, her lips pursing slightly as she followed the lines.
Then, a smile spread across her face. “Oh.”
Alexander leaned back in his chair. “That sounds promising.”
Lady Salford folded the letter again and placed it beside her teacup as though the contents were already settled in her mind.
“Well,” she said lightly, brushing an imaginary crumb from the tablecloth, “it appears an old friend of mine has decided she misses me terribly.”
Diana tilted her head, curiosity stirring. “An old friend?”
“Lady Harrowby.” Lady Salford waved one hand dismissively, as though the explanation required no further detail. Her gaze moved slowly between Diana and Alexander, eyes sparkling, before she added with innocent sweetness, “But I have suddenly realized something.”
Alexander narrowed his eyes slightly. “That you miss your friend terribly?”
“That I have been terribly selfish.” She placed the note neatly beside her plate. “After all, I have been occupying your home and interrupting your mornings.”
Diana frowned slightly. “Lady Salford…”
“Oh, my dear, do not look so concerned.” The older woman reached across the table and squeezed her hand warmly. “I am merely going to pay a little visit.” Then she added with unmistakable mischief, “And besides… You two might enjoy a little peace and quiet.”
Diana felt the words settle somewhere low in her chest, warm and unsettling all at once, as though the older woman had just announced something far more terrifying than a simple visit.
Across the table, Alexander’s gaze moved slowly toward her. He did not say anything, and the silence between them suddenly carried an entirely different weight.
Diana became acutely aware of the quiet breakfast room, the sunlight warming the polished wood of the table, the faint rustle of leaves outside the open window.
The ordinary details of the morning felt strangely vivid, as though the world had sharpened around the realization that they would soon be alone.