Wilde in Love(9)

Diana gave them a wobbly smile. “My mother felt I had to be here on the first day of the party. She is terrified that it will dawn on my fiancé that we don’t belong in the highest circles. She keeps trying to disguise me.” She gestured toward her wig.

“Your wig is a disguise?” Lavinia asked. “How so? I would think it makes you more obvious, if anything.”

“I know,” Diana said miserably. “I feel as if I’m an entry at the fair for the largest marrow grown in the shire. I couldn’t sit down in that infernal dress I wore this afternoon because it felt as if I had a washing tub strapped to my hips. I just stood in one place and ate so many muffins I felt ill.”

“I suppose all clothing is a disguise of one sort or another,” Willa said, thinking about it. “Just look at Lavinia.”

Diana glanced at her blue gown.

“My bodice is extremely small,” Lavinia said helpfully.

“Which disguises her face,” Willa followed up. “When Lavinia wears it, gentlemen are incapable of looking anywhere else.”

“I could cut one of the bundles off the back of my Polonaise gown and it would contain more cloth than your entire bodice,” Diana observed, looking slightly more cheerful.

“Mother wasn’t entirely pleased when I ordered this gown,” Lavinia said—something of an understatement in light of the ensuing hysterics—“but she changed her mind after seeing its effect on gentlemen.”

“I wish my mother would allow me to select my own gowns,” Diana said.

“Soon enough you’ll be a married lady and you can wear whatever you wish,” Willa pointed out. “Will you live in London, or here at Lindow?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Diana said, in a voice that welcomed no further questions on that subject. “You were speaking to Lord Wilde, or rather, Lord Alaric, earlier, weren’t you? I have the feeling that he doesn’t like me very much.”

“He has a brusque manner,” Willa said. “Could you be mistaken? He frowns easily, but I don’t think he dislikes me.”

In fact, she had the unnerving conviction that Lord Alaric liked her quite a lot.

“My fiancé says that his brother is frightfully cross about that play,” Diana said. “It seems that Wilde in Love is akin to his books; to wit, entirely fictional.”

“The plot may have been elaborated upon by the playwright,” Lavinia said defensively. “I am willing to accept that the missionary’s daughter was added for the sake of melodrama. But Lord Alaric’s adventures, as described in his books, are not exaggerated. I am certain of it.”

Across the room Lord Alaric had his head bent as he listened to Helena Biddle, who was cuddled so close to him that her bosom was practically in his armpit.

“Do you suppose she’ll be able to lure him into her bed?” Diana asked. Then she clapped a hand to her mouth. “I am so sorry. I’m not used—”

“That’s all right,” Lavinia assured her. “We both plan to remain faithful to our husbands if at all possible, but one can’t pretend that more creative arrangements don’t exist.” She studied the couple, and added, “Even though she’s a widow, Lady Biddle is remarkably assertive.”

The lady was clinging to Lord Alaric’s arm, one of her hands pressed to her heart, her eyes round.

“Perhaps he’s telling her about his adventures,” Willa said, feeling a visceral flare of dislike for the lady.

“Or the location of his bedchamber,” Diana put in.

Lavinia tossed her head. “If his taste is that wretched, I shall definitely stop adoring him.”

Diana laughed, but it was a small, stunted sound. “Do you believe that is within your control?”

“Yes,” Lavinia stated.

“I have the impression that Lord Roland would like to stop adoring me,” Diana said.

Willa was surprised into silence by her frankness.

Lavinia, naturally, was not. “For your sake, I would hope not. I have every intention of ensuring that my husband adores me. It will prevent any number of problems.”

“It’s awkward to marry someone who doesn’t share one’s feelings. We are both uncomfortable.”

They all three instinctively looked toward her fiancé. From this distance, he resembled an advertisement for a French tailor.

“Likely you will come to love him in time,” Lavinia said. “Lord Roland is quite handsome. If nothing else, he will present a pleasing vision at the breakfast table.”

“And the bedchamber,” Willa said.

“Wil-la,” Lavinia hissed, under her breath.

Diana gave the two of them a quizzical look.

“Lavinia is reminding me to avoid improper subjects in public,” Willa explained. “But just think how pretty your children will be.”

“Mama mourned my father for well over a year,” Lavinia said. “Yet she absolutely detested him during the first year of marriage. Detested.”

“Why?” Diana asked.

Lavinia laughed. “She says he smelled like a horse, because he spent all his time in the stables. She taught him to bathe regularly, and then he taught her how to ride a horse, and after that, they began loving each other.”

“I don’t think it will be so simple,” Diana said.

“Are you in love with someone else?” Lavinia asked.

“No!” Diana said. And then: “Will you both stay at Lindow Castle for the entire six weeks of the house party?” There was just the faintest shake in her voice.

“We plan to travel to Manchester for a few days next week,” Willa said, “and you should definitely join us, unless your mother has arrived by then. Lady Gray has some friends whom she wishes to visit.”

“Look at that,” Diana whispered. Lord Alaric was headed across the room toward his brother at a pace scarcely short of a jog. “He’s escaping!”

They watched as the two men met in the center of the room. Lord Alaric’s face lit with laughter as he slung an arm around his brother’s shoulder.

“There’s something remarkably attractive about all those muscles,” Lavinia said. “Your future husband has them, Diana, and he doesn’t even climb mountains. You are very lucky.”

“I’ll try to keep it in mind,” Diana replied. “Lord Alaric’s life sounds so uncomfortable, doesn’t it? Arctic ice, mountains, pirates, cannibals, and likely no afternoon tea, either.”

“I know,” Lavinia admitted, with a sudden flash of common sense. “I adore his books, but I certainly wouldn’t want to be him. Or marry him. What will you do if he falls in love with you, Willa? Everyone else did.”

She and Willa had come to the duke’s country house party straight from their first Season, during which they had been fêted and proposed to with remarkable fervor.

Willa’s heart skipped a beat at the idea of Lord Alaric at her feet. “None of those men truly love me. Nor you either, Lavinia, to be blunt, even though you were as popular as I. They don’t know us at all.”

“He would make an excellent spouse,” Diana said, adding in a lowered voice, “I heard that Lord Alaric’s estate is easily the size of his father’s, with one of the biggest apple orchards in the county.”

Lindow Castle could be seen for miles about, which suggested that the Wilde books were far more profitable than Willa would have guessed. “Lavinia must own at least one of those apple trees, given all the prints of his face that she’s bought,” she pointed out.

As she was laughingly backing away from Lavinia, who was threatening her with a fan, the duke hoisted his pregnant duchess out of her chair, which served as a signal that everyone should make their way to the great hall on the upper floor, where supper would be served.

“Will you sit with us?” Lavinia asked Diana. “We shall be near the bottom of the room, because Willa has asked the butler to place her at a smaller table with a scholar who’s transcribing Egyptian hieroglyphs.”

“I know that sounds dire, but it’s an interesting subject,” Willa promised.

“You’re not seated at a table with Lady Gray?” Diana said doubtfully. “My mother wouldn’t approve.”

Just then her fiancé turned and headed in their direction.

“I’m sure the scholar will be enlightening,” Diana said, setting out for the door at a brisk pace.

They had almost escaped when Lord Roland cut them off. “May my brother and I have the honor of escorting the three of you upstairs to dine?”

That rumble in his voice betrayed far more about his emotions than a man of his caliber would ordinarily care to reveal. Diana certainly didn’t like it; her whole body had gone rigid.

“Not tonight,” Lavinia said, giving them both a cheerful smile. “We have plans to educate ourselves.”

Lord Alaric was looking at Willa, which made her feel pleased and uneasy at the same time. “I am always in need of education,” he said. “Who is dispensing instruction this evening?”

“We have made plans to dine with Mr. Roberts, a young Oxford don who has been working in the duke’s library,” Willa explained.

“Roberts, the Egyptologist?” Lord Alaric inquired.