Her gown was neatly arranged, and her steps were hurried. "Diana!"
Livia hurried toward her at once. Bella met her halfway, and both women wrapped each other in a careful hug. Livia held her gently, mindful of the wound, but Bella clung with enough force to suggest she had missed her far more than she cared about any pain. "How are you doing?" Livia asked.
"I am gutted you will be leaving England," Bella said at once. "Why would you choose to go with the duke?"
Livia gave her a sympathetic smile, though guilt tugged at her. Bella was trying to sound offended, but beneath the dramatics was loneliness. Perhaps even the sense of being left behind in a palace that had already hurt her once. "Bella...Richard and I are to marry. I have to be with my husband, especially this early in the marriage."
Bella's face fell. She had pinned her hopes on something impossible.
