Mother and Rosy had already spotted them and had come to drag him to the receiving line. They asked Diana questions about what order they were to be in, and they had her go over again their approved responses. And Geoffrey didn’t care about any of it.
No matter what else happened, he and Diana would be alone together later. That was all that mattered to him.
* * *
A few hours later, Diana was sitting in the family parlor, which had been closed to guests, with her feet on an ottoman. She wished she could remove her shoes, but she didn’t dare, because she knew from past experience that the second she did so, someone would come needing her to go take care of some mishap or another. She merely needed a few minutes to catch her breath, find her calm, and remind herself of why she did this sort of work.
Because she could. Because she enjoyed it—most of the time. And because, silly as Geoffrey would probably find it, she felt as if she were helping people, mostly young women who deserved a better existence than they often ended up with.
But tonight it was harder than usual to remember all that. Never had she felt more keenly out of her element than when watching Geoffrey dance with a succession of young women. Oh, he didn’t do it out of choice. Before they’d even entered the ballroom, his mother had begged him to dance, probably for the same reason Diana had hoped he would—so he wouldn’t glare at Rosy’s partners.
He’d grudgingly agreed and had then proved himself to be a decent dancer. Not spectacular, by any means, but good enough to impress his guests, who’d probably heard the rumors about His Grace’s unusual profession.
Unfortunately for her, the women he danced with were all gorgeous. She couldn’t blame him for that—if one had to do something one found irksome, like dancing, one could at least find an attractive partner to share the task.
Still, it had been hard to watch. Which was ridiculous, really. Jealousy wasn’t in her nature. Definitely not.
Except perhaps when it came to him.
Without warning, one of the footmen came running in. “My lady, you have to come. There are some people trying to force their way into the ball. They claim to be relations of His Grace.”
Oh, no. That did not sound good.
Tired as she was, she sprang up and joined the footman on his way back to the entrance hall. “Where is His Grace? Does anyone know?”
“One of the other footmen went to find him. But these ladies—if you can call them that—are insistent, and I don’t know how long we can hold them back.”
When they emerged into the entrance hall, she saw four women and a gentleman arguing in ever-increasing voices with Geoffrey’s butler, who was flanked by two of Geoffrey’s burliest footmen.
The oldest looking of the women said, in a carrying voice, “I am the duke’s paternal aunt. I am certain he will wish to see me and my husband, not to mention my daughters, who are his cousins. He was probably unaware of how to find our direction to send the invitation, but I know he would want us here.”
“The hell he would,” Diana muttered under her breath.
The footman said, “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” She hadn’t had to do this very often, but once in a while, her responsibilities included making sure undesirable and uninvited guests were ejected from Elegant Occasions’ parties, balls, etcetera.
So she could certainly handle this. Pasting a welcoming but firm smile on her lips, she walked forward to stand beside the butler. “I beg your pardon, madam, but—”
“It is Lady Fieldhaven to you, miss. Now go fetch your master and we can sort this all out.”
“The duke is not my master. I am Lady Diana Harper of Elegant Occasions, and I’m in charge of this affair. You may have heard of my father, the Earl of Holtbury?”
The woman had the audacity to sweep her with a long, contemptuous look. “Hasn’t everyone? He and your mother are quite infamous.”
“True. But that has nothing to do with this ball in particular. You and I both know that His Grace didn’t neglect to invite you because he lacked an address for you. He didn’t invite you because you and your family treated him and his family very ill. So I suggest you leave before I order the footmen to remove you.”
Lady Fieldhaven drew herself up to her full height, which was still quite a bit shorter than Diana’s. “You have the gall to speak to me about my relations! I assure you that His Grace—”
“—wants nothing to do with you,” Geoffrey said as he strode into the hall.
For once, Diana was grateful he was so very imposing a figure physically. Because if Diana couldn’t cow the woman and her family, Geoffrey certainly could.
He came up beside Diana. “Speaking of someone who has gall, madam, you are a pitiful excuse for an aunt.”
“Now see here,” Lord Fieldhaven said, “that’s my wife you’re insulting.”
The man should never have spoken, because that merely focused Geoffrey’s attention onhim.“I feel sorry for you, sir, that you married a woman without an ounce of familial affection. Who joined her mother, my late grandmother, in cutting off my father—your wife’s ownbrother, for pity’s sake—from every person in his family. My own wonderful mother insisted that we should visit when we children were small, but your wife and my grandparents all refused to give us admittance. So it seems perfectly fitting that I deny you the same.”
