Evan was distracted by what a pretty picture she made with the sunlight behind her, barely paying attention to what she said.
Her hands dropped to her sides, and she shifted away from the window. Her bottom lip disappeared, and her brows headed toward one another. “Were you thinking of doing something else in here? Would you prefer to clear everything out and start new? Or are you concerned about how much all this is costing?”
“No.” How quickly her confidence could disappear. “I don’t know the prince’s taste, but yours is impeccable. Don’t worry about the money. Spend what you need to do the place up right.” Though they had been spending at a remarkable rate, they could pinch pennies once this Royal Visit was out of the way if they had to. “I think you should have a free hand here. Once the repairs to the rooms are finished, the plaster, the woodwork, and the like, you will be in sole charge of the furnishing and decorating. I won’t even walk through these rooms until you’re done. No oversight, no permissions needed. Make everything exactly as you want, and when you’re finished, show me.”
She regarded him warily at first, and then her sweet smile appeared, making his heart kick like a colt.
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. I trust you.” The words came out easily, and he realized that he did trust her. Though he knew he had awakened her with his bad dreams and restless sleep on more than one occasion, she had never said a word about it. And as the days and nights had passed, his nightmares had diminished. Was it because she was nearby and that he felt such peace when he could reach out and know she was there every time a dream woke him? Was his mind and spirit healing from the horrors of war because of her presence in his life?
He still couldn’t remember much of that day. The bits he could piece together made little sense, and he wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. If he had captured a spy at Salamanca, wouldn’t someone from his regiment know? If he had raced off to inform his superiors, wouldn’t he have left the spy in someone’s custody? Presumably Shand’s, but when Evan had asked him about his sergeant’s part in the battle, Shand had mentioned nothing about a prisoner, nor the fact that Evan had left his post to get to headquarters.
But with all the work on White Haven, and with his new marriage taking much of his time, the horrors and questions were receding. Evan was learning to make peace with not knowing, with perhaps never knowing. His attacks of anxiety and panic had lessened, and with each day, he felt more like himself. Perhaps he would even trust his fears to Diana, tell her the reasons behind the nightmares, tell her about the gaps in his memory.
“You trust me?”
Diana’s words drew him back to the present. “I trust you.” He spoke carefully, and he stepped closer. He had never kissed her in the daylight, never expressed physical affection for her outside their darkened bedroom. But he very much wanted to right now. How would she react?
She stood still as he raised his hands to her cheeks, warm and smooth and soft. With a wee smile, he bent his head to avoid her bonnet brim and brushed his lips across hers once, twice. Not wanting to scare her, he resisted the urge to deepen the kiss, and he stepped back, letting his hands trail over her shoulders, down to her fingers. “It’s what husbands and wives should do, trust each other. You trust me, right?”
Her hands stiffened in his, and her breath caught a bit in her throat. Her eyes broke with his, and she looked down and to the side.
Puzzled, Evan let go of her fingers. Trying not to be hurt, trying to remember that she had little reason to trust the men in her life up to now, he sighed. Be patient, Evan. As patient as you would be with a wounded bird. She’ll come to trust you if you take it slowly.
The sound of a baby’s cry echoed faintly from downstairs, and Diana’s chin came up, her eyes lighting. “They’re here.”
She raised her hem and hurried from the room, leaving him staring after her. She certainly put a lot of store in her maid’s child. Even Evan’s mother had remarked upon it. Again, he wondered why. Was it just that she had a tender heart?
He wandered the rooms, pulling off the holland covers, peeking into cupboards and drawers. Eight rooms, kept and furnished with the sole hope that some royal personage would grace the estate with a visit.
“Woolgathering, are we?”
Evan looked up. Marcus grinned at him from the doorway.
“I didn’t know you were coming today.” His heart lightened at the sight of his friend.
“And I come bearing more gifts. Well, not gifts exactly, since you’re paying for them, but still more furnishings and furbelows for your new domicile.” He crossed the room and shook Evan’s hand. “The place is looking grand.”
“Except for this wing.” Evan waved to the covered furniture, the faded rugs, and the dust. “Though from what Diana said, she intends to keep the furnishings, which should help the exchequer a bit.”
“Not to worry on that score. I’ve been going over the accounts with your lawyer, and even he’s amazed at how little you’ve spent.” Marcus ran his finger over the rosewood veneer of a side table, leaving a clear track in the dust that had accumulated in spite of the furniture covers.
“That’s because I don’t gamble, and I don’t have a mistress, and I haven’t bought any racehorses or the like. Almost every shilling has been spent on the estate, and I don’t know what my lawyer considers a little money, because the amount I’ve spent on this place is enough to equip and supply a regiment for the rest of the war. Come. Let me show you the house.” He clapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Did you pass Diana downstairs? We’re getting moved into the manor today, and her maid had just arrived.”
“I saw her briefly.” Marcus nodded. “She looks happy. Marriage must agree with her. She told me where you were and that she would see me in a bit. In quite a hurry, she was.”
“It’s the maid’s baby. You’d think she hadn’t seen the child in weeks, not just since this morning. She’s got quite an attachment to the little fellow. Not that I blame her. I quite like him myself.”
At Marcus’s sober expression, Evan hurried to explain. “I know it’s unorthodox, but she kept her maid on even after she bore a child out of wedlock. Diana was so worried about what I would think—afraid I might dismiss the girl—she tried to keep it a secret, but it’s hard to keep an infant quiet when you’re all confined in the same carriage.” He scratched his chin, remembering his surprise when cries had come from the basket. “And Diana loves fussing over the boy, helping take care of him. I think”—he was in uncharted waters here—“maybe growing up as she did, in that awful household, Diana needed someone safe to love who would return her affection without conditions, and she chose the baby.”
Marcus said nothing, his piercing eyes thoughtful.
“Anyway, enough about that. Let’s find Diana and go see my new project out in the stables. If my accounts start hemorrhaging money, it will be because I can’t say no to a war horse—or my wife.”
Diana inhaled the scent of spring on the breeze, contentment settling over her as she and Marcus strolled the gravel path between the house and the stables, following Evan.