Devilish Page 0,21

having read books of the most explicit kind, she failed. All the same, as an imaginary notion, it swirled in her brain...

Flute, fiddle, and drum rang around her, and within the barn happy couples skipped up and down lines. Other people sat around chatting, and she glimpsed quite a few young couples in quiet comers stealing a moment for courting conversation or even kisses. One swain rubbed his head against his companion's in a movement that was strangely catlike -

"Curiosity satisfied?" Rosa asked.

"I'm not curious," Diana instinctively protested, but then pulled a face. There was no hiding it. Seeing a group of young children, she allowed herself one more indulgence. "I saw him with his little nephew."

"Remarkable, isn't it? Even shocking in a way. Like seeing an infant with a tiger. But he seems genuinely fond of them all."

Lord Steen's daughters - flushed and bright-eyed - were being included in the adult dances, but Diana saw young Arthur stamping and swaying to the music with the other small children.

Lord Bryght's copper-haired infant sprawled asleep in his mother's arms where she sat with two local matrons as if she were just another gentleman's wife.

One of the other ladies, Mrs. Knowlsworth, broke off what she was saying to pay attention to a young girl who had run up with a complaint of some sort.

A dancing child - her cousin Sukey's second, she thought - tumbled and was picked up and soothed...

Another world.

The world of mothers and children.

Not for her.

Never for her, for she had rank and privileges granted to few women.

"You're right," she said crisply. "The marquess should marry. I'm surprised someone hasn't persuaded him."

"That his mother wasn't mad?"

"That it's worth the risk."

"Apparently Lord Bryght tried not long ago. I gather it was not a pretty scene."

Diana might have weakened and probed for details on that if Lord Brand hadn't come into the barn then. The look in his eyes, when he spotted his bride almost stopped her breath.

"I think your husband is growing impatient, Rosa."

Rosa turned, lovely color flushing her smiling face. She laughed in the way of a person suddenly bubbling with delight and extended both hands to her smiling husband. "After nearly a year? We've perfected patience, haven't we, my lord?"

Diana knew that after their brief flare of illicit passion they had agreed to wait until they could marry.

Turning soberly intent, Lord Brand carried both hands to his lips. "After nearly a year, my lady, my patience is in short supply."

Both stilled for a moment like statues. A framed moment of deep desire. Wasn't it worth the loss of everything to have a man look at her like that?

Just once.

"It is time," Rosa said, now a deep pink and sliding against her husband, within his arms, while hardly seeming aware of it. She held out one hand to Diana. "Thank you for all you did last year. And" - she pulled free and hugged Diana - "be happy, Diana! Whatever you do, be happy. See. It is real. It can be grasped. I want for you what I have found for myself."

Diana returned the fierce hug, blinking back tears. "Of course I'll be happy!" she declared. "I am happy. You know our tastes often differ. I enjoy politics, and administration, and grand entertainments. I even enjoy accounts and legal matters." She pulled back and summoned a brilliant smile. "I'll be wonderfully happy being the Grande Seigneuress of the North, and driving the stodgy world of men distracted."

It looked as if Rosa would protest, but she just shook her head and kissed Diana's cheek, then let her impatient husband lead her back to the house. Doubtless their horses were already waiting at the front. It was some distance to their new home at Wenscote, with little that could be called a road in between.

Diana called for the music to stop, and for the guests to send the couple off with grain and flowers. She picked up her pale skirts and ran to the house to seize one of the prepared baskets of flowers herself. Then she wove through the gathering crowd so that people could take a handful.

She would see her cousin into her new life with smiles and flowers.

When she came up to the marquess, she offered the basket teasingly, but to her surprise, he gathered a mass of blossoms in both hands. Then, strolling over to where Brand and Rosa were saying farewell to her parents, he poured them over his brother's head.

Brand turned, laughing, complaining, and