AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I have a right to my privacy,” Diana said what she had said many times before.
“Not in this house,” her cousin dismissed.
Diana was fortunate enough to find the letter from her uncle’s solicitor that informed her about her inheritance before her aunt and cousin did, and so they were not aware of it. She had written back to the solicitor and asked him to address all of his letters to her to the post office from then on – the real motive behind her walks to the post office.
“Well, go ahead, tell me more,” Florence urged.
“Stormwood frequently sent her—"
“He is coming!” came Margaret’s shriek outside the drawing-room, and she appeared in the doorway a moment later, waving a letter in the air. “His Grace is going to call upon us this afternoon! I knew he would come, oh, I just knew it! Call it a mother’s intuition.”
Diana’s stomach clenched at the same time that her heart stuttered. Florence leaped from her seat and ran to her mother, snatching the letter to confirm what she had heard.
“He is coming, indeed!” she grinned. “Mother, I must find something suitable to wear.”
“Oh, you must!” Margaret took Florence’s arm and pulled her out of the drawing-room, seemingly oblivious to Diana’s presence.
She grew queasy and bit her tongue but rose, deciding to return to her bedchamber where she would likely stay for the rest of the day. She was sure Margaret would not call her when Matthew called.
Diana was painting the tail of a bluebird by the window in her bedchamber when something outside caught her attention. Her room faced the front of the house, and she saw a carriage rolling down the winding road. She knew it was Matthew’s carriage, and she set down her paintbrush, leaning closer to the window for a better look.
The carriage stopped and Matthew alighted, stealing her breath. His raven hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his deep blue coat emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist, and Diana blushed when her eyes moved to his buff breeches, which clung to his powerfully formed legs like skin. No proper lady should be staring at a man as she was.
As if he felt her eyes on him, he looked up at her window, and she quickly ducked, catching her lower lip between her teeth to hold back a laugh. When she peeked, he had already entered the house.
Picking up her paintbrush again, she dipped it in green pain and was about to highlight the bird’s blue tail when her door opened and Abigail walked in.
She curtsied and smiled when she saw Diana. “Her Ladyship has asked for you, Miss,” she said.
“Truly?” Diana asked hopefully, her insides leaping. She wanted to meet Matthew again despite her plan to keep away from him and make him believe Florence was Dee. Her longing for his attention was the greatest flaw in that plan.
“Yes, Miss.” Abigail smiled, reaching for the apron Diana was removing.
She had some paint on her fingers and she dashed to her dressing room to wash her hands, feeling a tremor of excitement in her back. She did not know why her aunt wanted her to go downstairs but she was glad.
After drying her hands, she left her bedchamber. Her aunt was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, a storm in her expression. Diana grew confused because she thought she would join everyone in the drawing-room.
“You vile thing!” Margaret said in a harsh whisper, and Diana swallowed, her good spirits shredding.
Chapter 6
“You met the duke last night, did you not?” Margaret asked, her hand clamping tightly around Diana’s arm.
“Yes, I did,” Diana admitted.
“He asked for you,” Margaret informed her. “I am only allowing you to enter that drawing-room because he is a duke,” she pointed a finger at Diana, “but mark my words, you will pay dearly for your little tricks. You wanted to get to him and seduce him before he met Florence but you will never succeed.”
“I did not seek him out,” Diana calmly defended herself. She needed only to tolerate her aunt until November when she would finally gain her freedom. “He found me by chance.”
“Of course, he did,” Margaret smiled viciously, “just like that gentleman found you by chance at the ball in London, I suppose.”
Her body stiffened at the mention of that past incident, but she clenched her jaw to keep from showing her aunt how her words were affecting her. Margaret turned and walked back into the drawing-room, and Diana took several breaths to collect herself before following her.
Matthew rose when she walked in, a soft smile playing on his face. Gazing at that smile, Diana could forget her troubles. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Pearson,” he said as she curtsied.
“Likewise, Your Grace,” she murmured, glancing at her aunt.
She went to sit on the long sofa beside Florence, and the disapproving look she received from Margaret told her that she was not supposed to sit there. She did, nevertheless.
