Nicole Jordan (29 page)

No, she couldn’t accept his proposal of marriage, despite how adamant he was about doing the honorable thing.

As for the fresh storm of scandal hanging over her head, she would manage somehow. Since Nathaniel’s death, she’d had only herself to rely on. But she was strong enough to weather the tempest.

She had to be.

Her confidence, however, was sent reeling that very afternoon. She was in her studio, working on Venus’s portrait, when she received a letter from the British Academy’s president.

Holding her breath, Diana broke open the seal. The message was curt and devastating:

Madam,

 

I regret to inform you that your application for study at the British Academy for the Fine Arts has been denied. Doubtless you understand that our distinguished institution cannot afford any taint of scandal.

Sir George Enderly

Her knees weakening suddenly, Diana stumbled over to the chaise longue and sank down. For a long while, she simply sat there, clutching the letter to her breast and staring blindly at nothing.

Her lifelong ambition, finished.

The fragile dreams she had cherished over the years, shattered.

That was how Thorne found her a short time later—looking white-faced and anguished, as if she had lost a loved one.

Thorne felt his gut knot. “What’s amiss?” he demanded, crossing the studio to her in three strides.

Not replying, Diana silently handed him the letter.

Thorne perused the message swiftly, then crushed the parchment in his fist. The academy had denied her entrance, giving the brewing scandal as their excuse.

Thorne clenched his jaw. Fury was his first reaction. And when Diana’s gaze lifted to his, the pain he saw there wrenched at him. She had indeed lost a loved one. Her art meant more to her than a beloved spouse or child or parent meant to almost anyone else. And to be denied admittance for such a reason…

Thorne cursed long and vividly, knowing he had caused this bloody mess for Diana. Last night before leaving the ball, his father had taken him to task for his licentiousness, but the scolding was entirely deserved, Thorne was well aware.

His temper just now, however, left him feeling like tearing a strip off someone—and he knew just whose hide would be his target.

“Wait here,” Thorne said abruptly to Diana, not giving her the opportunity to say a word. Turning, he stalked out of the studio, taking the letter with him.

It was nearly two hours later before he returned. Diana had tried to focus on her painting, but her shock and despair had prevented her from making much headway with the final stage of Venus’s portrait.

She regarded Thorne’s entrance numbly, barely reacting when he handed her a new letter. “What is this?”

“A retraction. Sir George has reconsidered and accepted your application to study at the academy.”

Not understanding, Diana broke the seal and read with total disbelief. Yet Thorne was right; the letter contained an apology from Sir George, as well as an effusive acceptance.

“What could possibly have made him change his mind?” she asked, lifting her gaze to Thorne’s in bewilderment.

“I offered the academy a large endowment on the condition that you be allowed to train there.”

Diana’s jaw dropped. “You
bribed
them?”

Thorne’s mouth twisted with ironic amusement. “Bribery, threats, a little coercion here and there. Actually I took a page from my father’s book and used my wealth to influence their decision.” When she simply stared at him, Thorne tapped the underside of her chin. “Close your mouth, love. Openmouthed ladies look so very witless.”

The teasing glimmer in his eyes invited her to share his humor, but Diana
did
feel witless. She also didn’t know whether to be more embarrassed or vexed. “Thorne, you cannot just interfere like that!”

“Why not?” he asked unrepentantly. “You clearly deserve admittance, and I damned sure won’t be the cause of your rejection.”

He shifted his gaze, seeing Venus’s portrait for the first time. His eyes flared, turned stormy. “Just look at this.” He stood back an arm’s length from the life-size painting. “This is utterly remarkable.” Thorne shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe they were moronic enough to refuse you in the first place. You have more talent than any ten of their professors combined.”

Diana raised a hand to her temple, shaking her dazed head. She wanted to scold Thorne and to laugh at the same time. Two hours ago, her future had lain in ruins. Now, thanks to Thorne, she had a fresh chance to fulfill her lifelong dream.

Still, she couldn’t just countenance his outrageous generosity. “It won’t do, Thorne,” Diana began. “I couldn’t possibly permit you to bribe my way in. I could never show my face there—”

“Of course you can, and you will. You won’t start classes for another month, but your paintings will be displayed at the Academy’s exhibit, which opens week after next.”

“But I can’t allow you to throw away your fortune on me.”

Grasping the letter from her paint-stained fingers, he set it down and took both her hands in his. “I don’t give a damn how much it costs. I was responsible for what happened last night, and I’m obliged to rectify matters.”

“But I was a willing participant—”

“Only because I coerced you.” When her frown remained troubled, Thorne lowered his voice. “Diana, let me do this for you. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing you were suffering because of me.”

The protectiveness in his plea felt strangely wonderful. She’d missed having someone be protective of her. Ever since Nathaniel’s death, she had felt even more alone. Especially since her relationship with Amy had become so strained.

She should be grateful to Thorne for caring about her, Diana reminded herself.

She had yet another reason to be grateful to him, Diana recalled, remembering her cousin’s admission during their last conversation. He had saved Amy from a fortune-hunter.

Still feeling dazed, Diana shook her head. “Very well…. Thank you.”

“Good.”

He bent his head, obviously intent on kissing her, but Diana suddenly came to her senses and pulled her hands from his.

Drawing back to a safer distance, she eyed him with a suspicious frown. “But if you think this changes anything about our betrothal, you are much mistaken. I have no intention of wedding you.”

“We shall see about that,” Thorne retorted in a determined undervoice, an ominous glint of amusement in his eyes.

Thirteen

I
f Diana
thought she could persuade Thorne to abandon his notions of a real marriage, she quickly learned she had underestimated his determination.

He was relentless.

He refused to cancel any of their social engagements and insisted they continue to appear in public together, just as if nothing had happened. Worse, he turned the full force of his formidable charm on her.

Since she had moved from Lady Hennessy’s Berkeley Square mansion to her own studio house, Diana was breakfasting alone the following morning when Thorne appeared unannounced on her doorstep with a riding mount for her, intent on enjoying a gallop in the park. When she protested that she had work to do, he threatened to abduct her on the spot if she didn’t repair upstairs immediately and don her riding habit.

He waited patiently for Diana to change. Then as soon as they were mounted, he dismissed his groom with orders to wait there until they returned.

Diana had never before encountered a Thorne seriously bent on seduction, but as they rode along the London thoroughfares to Hyde Park, she found herself subjected to an outrageous flirtation.

After Thorne’s second flattering comment about her looks in as many moments, Diana eyed him suspiciously. “I still won’t marry you,” she repeated once again.

He only evinced a regretful smile and shook his head. “There is no hope for it, love. I consider myself quite compromised. But I do agree that our situation has changed.” His gaze locked on hers. “What is the saying? You might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb? If you’re to be condemned for a shameless jade, you may as well enjoy the benefits.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you should accept my offer to show you pleasure. I’m certain you will enjoy yourself far more if I arouse you with my body rather than just my hands and mouth.”

Diana nearly choked. “I won’t make love to you, Thorne!”

“You’re heartless.”

He interrupted their conversation to lead her across a busy street filled with carts and drays, then returned to the same subject. “I already warned you, sweeting, that resistance only intrigues and arouses a man more. You should surrender now and save us both the trouble of a chase.”

“I have no intention of surrendering to you.”

“You know you want to.”

Deplorably, she did want to, Diana admitted to herself. Thorne was such a charming devil this morning, with his angel face and laughing gold-green eyes, that it was nearly impossible to resist him.

“I want very much to make love to you,” Thorne admitted, his eyes glinting as he surveyed her. “And now there is no longer any reason to defer.”

Diana couldn’t quell the traitorous warmth that filled her at his look, or at the thought of his lovemaking, but she wasn’t about to let him know it. “Of course there is reason. I intend to guard what precious little reputation I have left.”

A smile played across his lips. “Do you lie in bed at night and wonder how you would move beneath me? How incredible it would feel to have me deep inside you?”

“No, I do
not.
” A lie, she knew very well.

“I do. Awake or asleep, I can’t get you out of my mind.”

It was Diana’s turn to shake her head as she gazed at him in exasperation. “You are every bit the rake I first took you for. If only Amy could see you now. It would teach her to beware of libertines.”

Diana was grateful when they finally reached the park, for it temporarily put an end to Thorne’s blandishments. She also enjoyed their brisk gallop and the momentary feeling of freedom it gave her. By the time they returned to her house, her spirits were higher than at any time in the past two days.

As soon as Thorne reached up to help her dismount, however, her wariness returned.

Grasping her waist, he gazed challengingly into her eyes as he slid her suggestively down his body. Then possessively he cupped his hand at the nape of her neck.

“Thorne, don’t you dare think of—”

His head dipped down even before Diana had finished her sentence. When his lips captured hers for a long, lingering kiss, sensation struck her with the force of a summer storm and left her dazed.

Finally recalling they had an audience—his groom was a dozen yards away, pretending disinterest—Diana felt herself flush with embarrassment as she stepped back. Thorne obviously understood how greatly he had unsettled her, for she saw wicked laughter flare in his eyes.

She wanted to box his ears.

“I know,” he murmured in a provoking undervoice, “how could I have been such a cad? But I had something to prove to both of us: You want me.”

“I do not want you, you conceited oaf!” Diana hissed, trying to keep her own voice low.

His smile held a knowing smugness that was still infuriatingly attractive. Even more infuriating was his hushed command as he tapped her on the nose with a forefinger. “Dream of me, love, when you are alone in your chaste bed tonight.”

He sent her another wicked smile before turning to his horse.

To Diana’s dismay, that was only the first of numerous incidents during the following week where Thorne won their private battle of wills. It soon became clear to her that he was publicly wooing her while maintaining the pretense that he was besotted with her.

At least the latest blot on her reputation had been mitigated a small measure by her acceptance by the academy. It also helped that her disgrace was overshadowed by world events, so that she was no longer the primary topic of concern.

Instead, the talk was all about Napoleon Bonaparte. In March, the Corsican Tyrant had reentered Paris to begin the reconstruction of his army and his empire. And just last week he had been restored to power in France with a new constitution. The British papers were filled with impassioned speculation about how the Allies should and would respond to the grave new threat.

Diana’s more immediate concern at the moment, however, was dealing with the threat Thorne presented. In public, he was all attentive charm. In private, he kissed and caressed her every chance he got.

It was a mistake to have moved into her house, she realized, for it gave him more opportunities to be alone with her. He continued to show up unannounced, any time he wished, even when she was working, and blithely dismissed her threats to have him thrown out.