Mrs. Oliver was already walking toward the carriage. She was getting on in years, and it would probably be a welcome comfort not to walk home.

“Thank you, Lord Bryant,” Mrs. Oliver said. “We would be delighted.”

“Diana?”

She smiled. “Of course.” If he could lie about being at home reading books all afternoon, she could lie about being happy to ride in his carriage. It would break Mrs. Oliver’s heart for her to say otherwise.

Lord Bryant’s eyebrow rose, but he didn’t say anything. He simply motioned for Diana to follow Mrs. Oliver to the carriage.

Mrs. Oliver and Diana sat across from Lord Bryant. After Diana informed Lord Bryant of her address, the inside of the carriage was silent while the wheels steadily rumbled through the London streets.

Diana shuffled her feet under her skirts, but she eventually gave in to talking. “What were you reading, Lord Bryant?”

“What was I reading?”

“Yes—just now—when you were so distracted you nearly forgot to come. What book was it that you were reading?”

“Ah,” Lord Bryant said, rubbing one hand on his knee. He was trying to come up with a title. He probably hadn’t actually sat down with a book in ages. Of course, neither had Diana, but she had been too busy. “Nothing of note.”

“I understand.” And she did. Reading was obviously a lie. She would have thought he would be better at it. She went back to being silent until the carriage pulled to a stop sooner than she was expecting. Lord Bryant alighted, then helped both Mrs. Oliver and Diana descend the steps.

“There is Mr. Oliver coming to meet me.” Mrs. Oliver gave Lord Bryant a bow and stepped in the direction of her home. Diana squinted her eyes. Sure enough, Mr. Oliver was shuffling toward them. She wouldn’t have put it past her employee to pretend he was there to once again leave the two of them alone. But she hadn’t. Mrs. Oliver paused and turned back to them. “Thank you, Lord Bryant, for the pleasant ride. Diana, invite the man in for some tea, will you?” Mrs. Oliver was already several feet away, waving farewell. “I shall, hopefully, see both of you tomorrow in the office.”

Lord Bryant and Diana watched Mrs. Oliver stride to her husband, her pace picking up just before reaching him. Mr. Oliver placed a hearty kiss on her cheek before they walked away with their arms intertwined.

What would it be like to grow old with someone like that? Someone who still waited anxiously to see her, even though they saw each other every day. Someone whom she couldn’t help rushing toward just before coming together.

She bit back a sigh, but Lord Bryant didn’t. His wasn’t obvious, but they were close enough together that she heard the rush of air leave his lungs. That puff of air, so quiet and soft, made her wish he could stay. But he was a rakish baron, and she was a working woman. When no one else was here to make them pretend, they had no relationship.