The Letter (28 page)

“I don’t think I can do this, Michael.”

“You are wrong. If at any time you think you cannot hold your head high and be the belle of the ball, think of windows in hell. Leo will be watching. Show him what you are made of. He will hate you for being strong and beautiful.”

He wrapped his arms around her then and she leaned into his embrace, drawing from his strength. She could do this because hell had windows and Leo would be watching. It would be almost as satisfying as spitting in his face.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Michael thought he might be more nervous than Diana. His plan was dramatic and daring. The result would be spectacular, but the question was whether a dreadful failure or a grand success. God, please let this work. He paced at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his first sight of her. Would she take his advice and change her gown from the rose to the bronze one?

She had thought she should strive for a look of innocence. Everyone present in the room tonight would know different, or at least believe she was far from it having been married to Brantley. The rose gown would only make her appear she was trying to be something she wasn’t.

He heard footsteps and looked up, his heart in his throat. A vision in shimmering bronze and gold floated down the stairs. Sweet Jesus. Never a man of few words, he suddenly had none. His gaze roamed hungrily over her from the honey-colored hair styled in the Grecian way, to the amber and gold topaz earrings dangling from her ears, then the bare, pale skin of her neck and shoulders, down over the soft coppery satin gown and ending at the toes of the deep gold slippers.

She stopped in front of him, uncertainty in her eyes. He took her hand and pressed her palm flat over his heart. “Do you feel how it pounds? That is what you do to me, Diana. As God is my witness, never in my six and thirty years have my eyes beheld anything as beautiful as you at this moment.”

The tension eased from face. “Thank you, kind sir. You look rather dashing yourself. I particularly like how your waistcoat matches my gown.”

Michael thought it was rather inspired. When he had returned to Mademoiselle Durand’s to look at the fabrics and fashion plates Diana had chosen, he had immediately known the bronze gown would be perfect for tonight. It had been Mademoiselle’s idea to sew him a matching waistcoat. What he liked most though, it sent a silent message she was his. Did she realize?

His gaze was drawn to the expanse of skin above the bodice of her gown. Did Mademoiselle have to cut it so low? “It was clever of you to leave off wearing the necklace. The earrings and bracelet are enough.” And it was. There was nothing detracting from the allure of the soft skin above her gown. He feared he would spend the evening glaring at every man whose eyes lingered on what was his.

As soon as his mother arrived, he escorted the only two women he had ever loved into his coach.

“How did you manage the invitation to the Marcus-Holmes’s family supper?” Diana asked.

“The moment the countess heard you and your parents were in London, she issued the invitation. She said she missed all of you dreadfully, and if she waited until the ball began to see you, she would not have the opportunity to spend time with you.”

“So you didn’t force us on her?”

“There was no arm twisting involved. Relax, love, your presence is eagerly awaited as is that of your parents.” He had been prepared to arm twist as hard as necessary, but it had not been needed. Lady Marcus-Holmes had thought his plan splendid. His hope was that by having Diana ease her way into the evening with the family dinner, it would calm her nerves somewhat.

Lady Suzanne patted Diana’s hand. “All will be fine, my dear. Michael has this evening planned down to the last detail, and all you have to do is follow along. Unless you are dancing, one of us will always be by your side. Keep this one thing in your mind. You have some very powerful friends supporting you tonight. When those who wish you ill realize that, they will think twice before causing trouble. No one would dare wish to get on the wrong side of the Duke of Aubrey.”

“I know I wouldn’t,” Michael said.

Lady Suzanne chuckled. “You look stunning, Diana. If this were your first year out, you would be one of the Season’s Incomparables. I know this is easy for me to say, but do try to enjoy tonight.”

Diana put her hand over Lady Suzanne’s and squeezed. “I am determined to as there are windows in hell.”

Michael grinned. “That’s my girl.”

“What does that mean?” his mother asked.

“It means—”

Diana stopped him. “No, let me answer. It means that I pray Leo is watching because I am going to show him he failed to reduce me to nothing. I’ve been thinking about it and have come to the conclusion it wasn’t so much me he wished to hurt, but Michael.”

Michael looked out the window. Because of him, she had been ripped from his arms, shamed and tortured. How could he hope she would ever love him again?

She reached across and pressed his knee. “You are blaming yourself, I can see it. You are not the villain in this tragedy, Michael.”

There it was, the one thing that had been eating at him. She understood her suffering had been because of him. Would it keep her from falling in love with him again? He looked at her. “We will talk about this, but not now. We have arrived and the play begins. Diana, Mother spoke true when she said you are stunning. I can hardly take my eyes from you. Your life will be returned to you tonight. All you have to do is accept it and be happy.”

He stepped out before she could respond. No matter her kind words, he was to blame. If he had tried to understand his cousin better, he might have been able to prevent it all. But tonight was for her, and that was all he would think of. He must be in top form if his plan was to work.

Michael escorted his ladies inside, one on each arm. Diana’s parents were already there as he had planned. Lady Marcus-Holmes greeted Diana like a long lost daughter. He stood back and let the countess fuss over her. Leaning down, he whispered in his mother’s ear. “Do you think she will manage all right?”

She slipped her arm through his. “She is stronger than you know, more so than even she realizes. She will be fine.”

Lady Marcus-Holmes announced dinner was served. “As we are dining
en famille
tonight, I have made no seating arrangements. Sit where you wish.” Lord Marcus-Holmes led the way into the dining room with the countess on his arm. Michael seated Diana next to him. His mother sat across the table, the oldest Marcus-Holmes son on her right, the younger, Thomas, on her left.

Thomas immediately began a flirtation with Diana. As the boy could not be more than seven and ten, Michael felt no desire to kill him. By the time dinner ended, both sons were enamored of her and had each asked for a dance.

Michael reached for Diana’s hand under the table and twined his fingers through hers for a moment before letting her go with the ladies. She walked out of the room surrounded by the women and trailing laughter behind her at something Lady Marcus-Holmes said. So far, his plan was proceeding perfectly.

****

“I have never seen a gown more beautiful. You must give me the name of your modiste.”

Diana searched the eyes of the oldest daughter and saw no guile. “It is Mademoiselle Durand. I am sure she would be more than happy to see you walk into her shop, Lady Montford.”

“Heavens, I have only been married for two months and still have difficulty recognizing Lady Montford as me. We have known each other as far back as I can remember. I used to be Little Mary to you, but I have grown up since you last saw me, and now I can just be Mary.”

“Thank you. Please call me Diana.” She had been on pins and needles for no reason. No mention was made of Leo, no questions asked of her years with him, no sly looks had been sent her way.

The men entered the room, Michael coming to stand next to her chair. She glanced up at him and smiled. He had arranged tonight for her so she could get back the life Leo had stolen. No matter what happened between them, she would be forever grateful.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “The guests will begin arriving soon, and the family is to go and greet them. You and your parents will come with Mother and me. Our friends are awaiting us in the ballroom.”

It begins. She stood and took his arm. Supper with the family had helped to calm her, but now her heart began to race. Her step faltered. She could not do it.

Michael leaned his mouth to her ear. “Windows in hell.”

She pressed her fingers into his arm in appreciation and moved forward, her steps determined and sure. At the entrance to the ballroom, she stopped, unable to believe her eyes. She knew the guests had not arrived yet, so these people must be the friends Michael said awaited them. There had to be at least a hundred milling about, some she recognized, some she didn’t.

This was beyond her expectations. “A
few
friends did you say? However did you manage it?”

His smile held a hint of smugness. “I’ve called in a few favors, but you can also thank Mother, their Graces, and Derebourne and his wife.”

The Duke of Aubrey stepped forward with his duchess and he bowed while she curtseyed. The men and women all followed their Graces’ lead. It was too much. Tears pooled in her eyes. Diana stepped forward and returned their gesture with a deep curtsey of her own. She feared they expected her to say something, but to her relief, they returned to their conversations.

She recalled Michael’s conversation about butterflies and finding her wings. Not only was he helping her to regain all she had lost, but he had also given the gift to her parents. She smiled upon seeing her mother laughing among her friends, back in the life she so dearly loved. Diana’s heart took a tumble she felt down to her toes.

Oh God, why now? If she had to have this sudden insight, why not at home where she could hide in her room and think it through? If Michael knew she loved him, he would be relentless in pressuring her to marry him. No longer sure what she wanted, she must keep him from knowing until she decided what to do.

“Diana?”

She jerked her gaze to his. “Yes?”

“Are you all right? You looked pale of a sudden. I know this is a shock to see how many are here to support you. Perhaps I should have warned you, but I wasn’t sure we would be this successful.”

Thank heavens he thought she was only overwhelmed by the crowd and their show of respect. “I am fine, truly.”

He put the palm of his hand on the small of her back, and even through his glove, she felt its warmth.

“Come, love, others will be entering soon and we must take our place.”

No stage manager had ever directed a play better than the man guiding her toward the duke and duchess. Would he try to control her life if she did marry him? She didn’t doubt it. Could she bear it? She didn’t know.

She curtseyed, this one meant for the duke and duchess only. “Your Graces, I don’t know what to say other than thank you. It doesn’t seem adequate, however.”

“I will add my appreciation to my lady’s,” Michael said.

“I am here to support a friend, and that would be you, my lady. You have no need to thank me.” His Grace turned a fiendish grin on Michael. “You on the other hand can thank me with a few rounds in the ring at Gentleman Jackson’s. It is impossible these days to find anyone willing to fight me.”

“Oh ho,” Lord Derebourne said. “You should fear for your life, Daventry. He tricked me into a match once and it was a month before my face was pretty again. I will be there to watch, however. Wouldn’t miss it, but I will tell you now, my money is on Aubrey.”

The duchess pulled Diana aside. “Come talk to me and Claire while these men boast about manly things. I love your gown. The material changes color as you move about and now Claire and I want one like it.”

“I like how Lord Daventry’s waistcoat matches,” Claire said. “I think the next time I order a gown, I will have my modiste make a matching waistcoat for Derebourne.”

“Oh, do choose a fabric with pretty golden-haired cherubs on it. Derebourne has always reminded me of one, and it would suit him perfectly,” Katie said.

Claire laughed. “I daresay he would love that.”

Katie snorted.

So enjoying the banter of her friends, Diana almost forgot the reason for tonight until Michael stepped next to her and whispered.

“It is time.”

Suddenly, she and Michael were encircled by her parents, their Graces, the marquess and Claire, and Lady Suzanne. The others in the room formed small groups surrounding them. Diana looked up to see a line of people descending the stairs. She swayed and Michael took her arm, steadying her. She should have put a vinaigrette in her reticule.

The new arrivals, obviously believing they were the first to enter, began to notice the number of people already in the ballroom. Their descent slowed and the buzz of conversation grew. Their questioning eyes searched the room.

Diana could read their minds as if they spoke their thoughts aloud. Was something afoot? Were they to witness something unusual, something they would be able to gossip about over tea, or write letters to friends and relatives detailing the delicious particulars?

“They will be able to dine off tonight’s events for months to come,” Michael said.

“I only hope I am invited to a few of those dinners as I would like to hear how the story grows,” Derebourne said wryly.

Those at the bottom of the stairs came to a stop as their eyes alit on the powerful group standing in the middle of the room. Their whispers grew as they looked from the Duke of Aubrey, to the Marquess of Derebourne, their wives, then the Marquess of Rotharton, Lady Rotharton, and finally to her and Michael. The line of people behind them stacked up and the noise of conversation increased as word spread to those in back. Finally, two footmen stepped forward and encouraged the people at the bottom to step into the ballroom.

“They want a show and we will give them one,” Michael said. He lifted a hand to the orchestra and then turned, bowed to her and held out his hand. “My lady, I believe this dance is ours.”