it was unlikely anyone would find out, Diana admitted, if neither of them was inclined to mention it. And whatever his true motives for wishing to spend time with her were, they could not be furthered without her complete agreement to the plan, which effectively put her in control of the situation.
Diana looked up at him again, studying the lines and angles of his face, and wondered if any man had ever looked at her so intently. She knew that he was curious to see who she was; curious to discover the details of her physical appearance. What man alive did not wish to see the face of a veiled woman? But she didn’t think curiosity accounted for all of his interest. It didn’t invoke the kind of yearning she saw in the depths of his eyes.
But what could a man like this possibly yearn for? He had no need of clandestine meetings in the park. If he wished to speak to a lady, he simply went up to her and engaged her in conversation. So what was it about her that inspired him to agree to such strange terms? Her aunt had portrayed him as a gentleman of breeding and manners, and certainly his conduct to her yesterday had been proof of that. And yet, he must suspect her of being slightly improper. She had already admitted to having a secret; the kind that would cause a lady to ride heavily veiled, and to resist all attempts at a proper introduction. Why would he not suspect her of being an unhappily married lady looking for a lover?
Did it really matter what he thought?
The question surprised Diana, but the answer surprised her even more. No, it didn’t. She had come to London to spend time with her aunt, and to see Phoebe presented to society. She had no intention of partaking in the social whirl herself, except where it was necessary to accompany Phoebe, and as soon as the Season was over, she would return to Whitley and resume her life there. For now, Lord Garthdale wished to ride with her and to continue their association on the terms he had put forward.
For once in her life, Diana decided it was reason enough.
They rode for over an hour, staying by mutual consent to the less well-travelled areas of the park, content to let the horses set their own pace. And while they walked, they talked.
Lord, how they talked! Diana couldn’t remember ever having spoken so freely to a man before. Certainly, she had never spoken to Lord Durling like this. She hadn’t been at liberty to express her beliefs in such an open and honest way, because Lord Durling hadn’t been interested in her opinions.
His opinion, frequently voiced, was that women only had one role to play: that of the subservient, well-mannered wife. It was their duty to raise the children and to tend the house, and if a woman chanced to have opinions of her own, she was free to express them to her female friends and relatives, but not to him.
Lord Durling had expressed absolutely no desire to see a more intellectually stimulating side of her.
Fortunately, Edward wasn’t like that. He invited her to offer opinions on a variety of subjects, and listened to them all with interest and respect. When he brought up a subject—and he brought up many—he genuinely wanted to know what she thought about it. He even challenged her to think more intensely about a matter if he felt she was missing a certain aspect of it, or if her answers were lacking in depth. And when they exhausted one topic, they went on to another, including those that were of interest to her.
All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and when Diana glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice, she was dismayed to see how quickly time had passed.
‘Oh, dear, I really must be returning home. My aunt will be wondering where I am.’
‘She won’t worry, I hope.’ Edward drew the hunter to a halt. ‘She knows you ride with a groom?’
‘Yes, but she would not expect me to be away so long.’
‘Why not? She must already know what an accomplished rider you are.’ He slid her a sardonic glance. ‘You really didn’t need my help yesterday, did you.’
It wasn’t phrased as a question, so Diana didn’t answer it as one. ‘Nevertheless, it did demonstrate what a gallant gentleman you are, and what a helpful nature you possess.’
He gave a short bark of laughter. ‘I doubt there are many in society who would credit me with such noble qualities.’
‘Why? Do you go out of your way to be discourteous in society?’ Diana couldn’t resist asking.
‘Not as a rule, but no doubt my inclination to remain separate is a constant source of aggravation to mothers who would have me dance attendance upon their lovely daughters.’ He smiled, sarcasm vanishing. ‘Still, that need not enter into the conversation this morning. It would only serve to spoil what has been a most enjoyable interlude.’ He turned to look at her, and his gaze held hers. ‘I shall be here again tomorrow morning, Jenny. I hope you will join me.’
Diana felt her pulse beat in her throat. ‘It is probably best that I make no promises, Edward, but…I will try.’
‘That is all I can ask.’ He swept her a dashing bow. ‘Until tomorrow, fair lady.’ Then he pressed his heels to the bay’s sides and set off at a slow canter.
Bemused by it all, Diana turned Juliet’s head around, and thought about the meeting that had just taken place. Was she right to say that she was happy? Surely she had nothing to be happy about. She had just agreed to meet with a man she barely knew, and to keep her identity secret from him.
What was there to look forward to in that but the certainty of failure? She knew there was no chance of a relationship developing between them. At least, not the kind of relationship she, or any other gently bred lady, would entertain. And yet, on the strength of her two brief meetings with him, Diana was already more aware of Edward as a man than she had any right to be. She grew a little breathless every time he was around, and on several occasions, she had experienced a curious sense of renewal, as though her heart was suddenly awakening from the depths of a long, deep sleep.
Still, there was no point in reading more into it than was warranted. Once he found out who she was—the woman who had jilted Lord Durling—it would surely be over. Edward was sure to know what had taken place between Diana Hepworth and Lord Durling. Perhaps he was even a friend of Lord Durling’s and had heard first hand the lies he’d told about her.
Lies, Diana reflected bitterly, told to camouflage the depth of his own wickedness.
Unfortunately, Edward wouldn’t know that. He would only know that Diana Hepworth was a callous, deceitful woman who had pretended to love a man, only to cast him aside when she decided to look for someone better. A woman with no scruples, and who would do whatever it took to marry the richest man she could—even if it meant jilting a man who had been prepared to swear a lifetime of love and devotion to her.
Diana sighed. Those were the stories Edward would have heard, because those were the lies Lord Durling had circulated. They were also the reasons she couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t want to see the expression on his face change, or the softness in his eyes harden into disgust when he looked at her. As foolish as it might be, Diana wanted Edward to think well of her, and for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, she might be able to do that. They could ride together in the mornings and enjoy their conversations. They would talk to one another as equals, free to voice their respective opinions, and to suffer no consequences as a result, because in that regard Phoebe was right.
There was a decided lack of stimulating conversation to be had in Whitley. Try as she might, Diana often found the topics of discussion reverting back to the same old subjects, namely how the rain—or lack thereof—was going to affect
