“Of course, Your Highness. Please do come in.” She looked back over her shoulder, sending Evan a pleading look.
While he would much rather stay outside and organize things, he sighed and followed them inside, motioning for Marcus to come too. Shand could see to the carriages and horses, and Louisa and the house staff would see to the luggage and room assignments.
Over the next hour, his wife amazed him. She was elegance personified. The prince settled into the overstuffed chair she’d had made especially for him, and his foot was placed onto an ottoman with plenty of cushions. Evan sat with Marcus on the settee to his left, and Diana was on his right. She offered His Highness an array of drinks and cakes and savories, and he took some of everything, claiming each was a personal favorite of his, and how had she known?
Evan intercepted a wry look between Diana and Marcus, and he suspected that everything was the prince’s favorite and that both his wife and his friend, and probably everyone else in the ton, were well aware of it and couldn’t go wrong with the food offered as long as it was plentiful.
Finally, the prince leaned back, dabbing his lips with a serviette. “Precisely what I needed, my dear. I can see that this respite, halfway between London and Brighton, could quickly become my favorite stop.” He ran his hands over the brocade upholstery and squirmed himself a bit farther into the cushions. “This room is delightful. Who was your designer?”
Evan spoke up. “Lady Whitelock designed the rooms herself, Your Highness.”
The prince’s brows rose. “Such talent. This room is restful and exhibits excellent taste, Diana.” He puffed up his chest. “And to think, you’re my godchild.”
Across the room, the Duke of Seaton glowered, shifting in his seat, crossing and recrossing his legs, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. Evan was no protocol expert, but the duke’s actions bordered on the improper, showing such impatience in the presence of the prince. Diana kept casting her father worried glances when she thought no one was looking.
Marcus leaned over and whispered, “You’re a blessed man. Diana’s doing splendidly. The prince is quite taken with her, and the house looks well. I trust she got the Royal Apartments sorted?”
Evan nodded.
“What about between you two? Things weren’t so amicable when I left.”
Before Evan could answer, the prince was getting to his feet. Everyone in the room rose, and Diana took the prince’s arm.
“Of course. Please let me show you to your rooms.” Diana looked every bit the lady she was as she glided along beside the portly prince.
The moment they left the room, with several others following, Marcus held Evan back. “A moment, if you please? We need to talk.”
“Let’s go into the library. It will be quiet there.” Evan led Marcus to the back of the house, to the dark-paneled, cozy library, one of his favorite rooms in the manor. Most of the books had been destroyed through neglect, rats chewing on the leather covers, mildew foxing the pages. But Diana had chosen replacements, and the room now smelled of furniture polish and paper, leather and beeswax.
Marcus admired the room with his eyes and expression before sobering. “Percival and Fitzroy have been here for the past few days?”
“Yes. They showed up, sent by the prince to make sure all was in readiness.”
“Hmm.” Skepticism coated the sound. “Is that what they said?”
“You mean the prince didn’t send them?”
“If he did, it would be the first time. The prince expects everything to be perfect for him no matter when he arrives, no advanced troops necessary. No, your brother-in-law and the viscount came on their own hook, which means they have their own agenda.”
“Other than being bothersome? What?”
“I don’t know. I think it has something to do with where Percival has suddenly gotten a source of income.” Marcus rapped his knuckles on the desk. “I think it has something to do with his time in Spain last year, but I can’t seem to run it down.”
Evan studied his friend. “Why are you so curious? Is it so odd that he has money? Maybe he’s been winning at the tables, or maybe he came into an inheritance the same way Diana did.”
“Let’s just say, I’ve been asked to look into it by someone very senior. He’s got questions, and he thinks I can find the answers. Has he said anything that would indicate where the money is coming from or why he came to White Haven early?”
Scratching his cheek, Evan thought back over the past two days. “Frankly, I’ve done my best to avoid both of them. But I did notice that Percival seemed different … more … powerful maybe? Less petulant for sure. Like he has a newfound confidence. It might be money. Money makes you aristocrats do strange things.” He grinned, but he didn’t feel funny.
Marcus had been asked to look into something by someone “very senior.” In Evan’s experience, that could mean a lot of things. Marcus’s father was “very senior” in rank and influence. Perhaps he was doing his father’s bidding. Or perhaps a senior ranking officer in his old unit had some questions.
“In any case, keep an ear out. If he says or does anything odd, let me know, will you?” Marcus shot his cuffs. “You didn’t answer my question about how things were going between you and Diana. Did you get things sorted about the baby?”
The ever-present heaviness swelled in Evan’s chest. “Let’s just say we’re flying the flag of truce until the prince’s visit is over. We’ll talk about what we’re going to do afterward.”
“She did the only thing she could, if you think about it.”
“No, she could’ve told me the truth. Married people shouldn’t keep secrets from each other, especially not ones of this magnitude.”
Marcus tilted his head, one eyebrow rising. “Really? Have you been totally honest with Diana? About your headaches, the nightmares, the panic that you can’t control?”
Startled, Evan shot up from where he’d been leaning on the desk. “How do you know about that?”
“You’re not the only soldier to come back from the wars. I’ve had my share of nightmares. And I’ve watched you. Your outer wounds have healed, but the inner ones? Have you remembered anything more about that day? And have you told Diana about your memory loss?”
Evan hated it when the truth rose up and smacked him in his face. He hated it even more when an accusation of hypocrisy in his thinking was true. Diana had kept an important secret from him because she was afraid of what he would do with the information.
And he’d done the same to her.
“Not a great feeling to be hoist with your own petard, is it?” Marcus gave him a compassionate look. “I’ve been there myself. No one ever actually died from having to apologize, and I’m sure she’ll be gracious when you tell her.”
Evan rubbed his palm on the back of his neck. “You’re right. She probably will be, and I’ll feel even more of a heel.”
Clapping him on the back, Marcus grinned. “Not that I have any experience, but I believe that’s not an uncommon feeling for a married man.”
The clock on the mantelpiece chimed. “I suppose we’d best go dress for dinner. Diana has put you in the south wing since you already know about Cian. You’re next to the nursery. Hopefully, the little blighter won’t keep you awake at night.”