“He did nothing awful to me.”
Eliza’s gaze narrowed on her. “Then why was he apologizing?”
“Because he thought he had.” She pretended to be straightening the cuffs of her gown. How was it that Eliza could make her feel like a five-year-old again, apologizing for some infraction even though she wasn’t sorry? “But I explained to him that he hadn’t.”
“Hmm. Would you tell me if he had?”
Diana eyed her aghast. “Of course I would! But he didn’t. So there’s no reason for all your concern.”
She might still have told Eliza about the kiss if Grenwood hadn’t made it perfectly clear he considered it a mere thing of the moment, something he’d instantly regretted. While that stung, Diana should probably take the same tack. Much as she wanted to savor it, she must lethisbehavior be her guide.
After all, Grenwood was sure to return to his boorish self tomorrow, after the gentlemen at the Society of Civil Engineers sang praises to his skills tonight. If, as a result, nothing came of her association with him but cordiality, she would hate having revealed the details of their tête-à-tête in the garden to her sisters.
And if hedidstart behaving differently toward her? If he approached her again, tried to kiss her again?
She tamped down the sudden thrill that gripped her. That was a bridge she’d have to cross when she came to it.Ifshe came to it. Because that was by no means certain.
* * *
If not for the rain and his “fine clothes,” Geoffrey would have walked to his dinner. He needed to clear his head, to remind himself of all the reasons he shouldn’t entangle himself with Lady Disdain . . . no,Diana. He groaned.
Lady Disdain had sure as hell disappeared while he’d kissed Diana senseless. The woman was proving to be more than he’d bargained for. That mouth of hers, oh God, so warm and wet. And her soft skin and her pretty eyes . . .
What was he going to do about her? He wanted her in his arms, in his bed. That was out of the question, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he did. And why couldn’t he stop thinking about that incredible kiss?
He couldn’t believe he’d actually kissed the woman. He couldn’t believe she’d actually let him. No doubt she would give him a piece of her mind once she got over her shock, but by then he’d be calm enough to remind her of his apology, and to point out that the matter was done. Then he’d pray that his impressive title and willingness to pay their exorbitant prices would convince her not to throw him out on his arse.
Just then, his carriage drew up in front of the tavern where the Society met. He’d never been so glad to see a building in his life. Now he could finally put the intoxicating Diana out of his mind. For good, with any luck.
But three hours later, after a fine dinner and a bit of good ale, he was back in his carriage and thinking of Lady Deadly once more. No, Lady Disdain. No,Diana.The woman he was clearly going to have to avoid from now on, because even a long dinner with the most fascinating men he knew couldn’t blot her from his brain.
Worse yet, once he reached Grenwood House, he discovered his mother and sister had been waiting for him the entire time he’d been gone.
“Geoffrey!” Mother cried from the doorway of the drawing room before the footman could even take his greatcoat. “How long do dinners with engineers take anyway?”
He handed off his coat to the footman. “As long as needed to discuss advances in engineering for the past month. Or five. It was all business, I assure you.”
She came up to kiss his cheek, then drew back to eye him skeptically. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Only an ale or two, no more than what I drink every night at dinner. Don’t worry, Mother. I’m not turning into Father yet.”
“I should hope not. Drinking is what killed him.”
Drinking and laudanum. But Mother didn’t know about Father’s use of laudanum, and he wanted to keep it that way.
She squeezed Geoffrey’s hand. “But regardless of his . . . lapses, I hope you know he was very proud of you. When he was in his cups, he boasted about your inventiveness to all who would listen.”
The remarks sliced through him. “That’s doing it up a bit brown, don’t you think?”
“Just because he rarely did it around you doesn’t mean he didn’t do it at all, Son.”
Her assertion boggled his mind. He’d never once had the sense that Father even knew what Geoffrey did when he marched off to work at Stockdon and Sons or left for a months-long period to oversee the digging of a canal or tunnel.
But he tamped down his shock as he walked toward the drawing room with her. Right now, he needed to spend time conversing with the living, not the dead, if only to reassure Mother and Rosy that all was well. Ever since Father’s death, Rosy had been prone to worry about him.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t relief he saw on her face when he and Mother entered. It was wariness. That certainly gave him pause.
“What happened?” Rosy sounded hurt. “Where have you been all this time? Did you . . . did you dismiss Elegant Occasions?”
