Free Jo Beverley - [Malloren] by Devilish Page A

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 trying to brush multicolored petals from his hair. After a still, smiling moment, he embraced his brother without restraint. Shockingly, at least to Diana, the marquess embraced him back, even lowering his head a moment to rest against the other.
    A large part of this happy outcome had been Lord Rothgar’s work, but she had thought it came from pride, duty, and a love of efficiency. She saw now that she’d been wrong. Nor was it all fueled by guilt. He loved. Though generally he sheathed it in steel and velvet like the dangerous blade it was, he loved his brothers and sisters to a remarkable degree.
    Swallowing, she moved on quickly, offering her flowers, eyes a little blurred. What did it matter? It was nothing to do with her.
    She kept the last handful of flowers and threw them at Rosa as the happy couple rode off. She stamped on the thought that she was waving goodbye to her closest friend, to someone who had been as close as a sister, as a twin even—
    “Is marriage such undiluted tragedy, Lady Arradale?”
    Diana started, and found the marquess by her side. “Not at all, my lord.”
    “Ah, tears of happiness, I gather.”
    He didn’t think that for a moment. “I am not crying,” she stated, and indeed, she was not, though they clogged her throat.
    “Tears are not always visible.”
    Diana faced him, eyes deliberately wide, and dry. “You wax metaphysical, my lord.”
    “Perhaps everything of importance is metaphysical, my lady.”
    “Faith, but if everything of importance is beyond our senses, we are like feathers on the wind.”
    “Have you never felt exactly like that?”
    She caught