One Night of Passion (5 page)

So instead of demanding satisfaction, he bowed low to the elderly gentleman and said, “My apologies, sir. I meant no insult on your good name. Please give my regrets to Lady Diana.” He paused for a moment, glancing up the stairwell where his betrothed had fled. “That is, when she is of a mind to listen.”

Lamden snorted. “That’ll be a cold day.”

Temple added his bow, to which Lamden snorted yet again and made an impatient wave to send them on their way. So Colin and Temple took their hats and cloaks from the Lamden butler, and left.

They weren’t even halfway down the front steps when Temple said, “Demmed waste of a good heiress, that.”

Colin shot his cousin an annoyed glance. He hadn’t been marrying Lady Diana for her money—for despite what the papers, the London gossips, and the Admiralty had declared, he actually still had plenty of money.

Only Temple—perpetually short of funds, despite the fact that he was heir to their grandfather, the Duke of Setchfield’s heir—would think first of Diana’s money.

“Why don’t you marry her?” he suggested.

“Marry Diana?” Temple laughed with what Colin thought was a tad too much irony. “Grandfather would in alt, but you heard Lamden, the old boy would never hear of it. He certainly doesn’t want the likes of me, someone who spends too much time off shooting in Scotland or gadding about at house parties, marrying his precious daughter.”

“Tell him the truth. Tell him what you are really doing when you are off ‘shooting’ in Scotland.”

Temple cocked a single brow. “Why don’t you tell him what you are up to with this trumped-up court-martial? You would no more disobey a direct order and leave a battle than I would be caught mucking about in some cold Scottish bog shooting at some demmed bird.” He paused and motioned at the closed and probably barred door of the Lamden town house. “Go on, tell him the truth. And when you get done with him, would you mind enlightening me?”

Colin knew he shouldn’t be surprised that his cousin would see past Nelson’s grand deception. If anyone knew a thing or two about deceiving the
ton,
it was Temple. And though he knew he could trust his cousin with the truth, he was compelled to silence on the matter.

There was too much at stake. And so he said nothing.

“I thought as much,” Temple said, nodding in knowing agreement. He glanced over his shoulder, back up at Lamden’s four-story colonnaded home. “Still, a pity one of us didn’t get her. Diana is a rare gem. Always has been.”

Temple stepped off the curb to wave down his driver, Elton, who was waiting in the mews. Colin paused, glancing back over his shoulder, still shocked by his betrothed’s abrupt refusal.

To his surprise, he found Lady Diana peering down from a window, her eyes ablaze with a fiery passion that he had never before seen light her features. She hardly looked the heartbroken, ruined
parti.

But then again, her gaze wasn’t on him. It was drilling into the back of his cousin’s wine-colored jacket.

Colin swallowed what was left of his pride.

Egads. Diana had never loved him.

The realization hit him harder than he cared to admit, and at the same time, it made perfect sense. Her easy acquiescence to delay their wedding all these years. Her vehement refusal to marry him today.

His court-martial had only been an excuse. She’d cried off because she didn’t love him.

He didn’t know why it suddenly mattered that she should have loved him. It wasn’t as if he’d been in love with her.

But witness now to Diana’s intensity, her ability to shine with such fire, he knew that a wife should love her husband.

And by the same token, a man should love his bride.

Unequivocally, and without restraint.

“Are you going to stand there like a forlorn pup all night?” Temple asked. “First a court-martial, then an afternoon wasted securing a special license the bride so kindly tossed back into your face. Come along with me, for I hate to see your day finish in utter failure.”

Colin glanced at his grinning cousin and sighed. Only Temple could make light of such a disastrous turn of events. Deciding against another look up at Lady Diana, Colin climbed in and Elton started off.

Temple leaned back on the leather squabs and sighed. “What a sad lot we are. All dressed up and our evening completely empty.” He fiddled with his elegantly tied cravat, while glancing out the window. “Let me think . . . I know there was something happening tonight. What was it?”

“Save yourself the trouble,” Colin told him. “I’m hardly in the mood for one of your debaucheries.”

Temple sat up straight. “Debauchery! Oh, that’s it. The perfect way to salve your broken heart.”

Colin shook his head. “I’d hardly say I’m suffering from all that.”

“Oh, you can’t fool me. You were always too serious by half,” Temple chided. “If I know you, you had the next twenty years all planned out. Diana would produce your heir within the year, and a spare two years hence. When you were at sea, she could reside safely out in that manor house your father left you in Devonshire. And when you finally tired of fighting the French and living on weevil-ridden rations, you’d come home to be lord and master of your peaceful household, without any thought of love or passion or fun.”

“Fun?” Colin said. “Who said marriage is supposed to be fun?”

“Well, it damned well should be if it means settling down and all,” Temple grumbled.

“I’ll have you know that marriage is a matter of duty and honor.” At least that was what he had thought until a few moments ago when he’d seen that look of longing in Lady Diana’s eyes.

Now he wasn’t too sure.

“Have it your way,” Temple said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his long legs out in front of him. “Since your evening has been cleared of your previous engagement, literally, that is.” He chuckled at his own pun, while Colin did his best not to groan. “I have the perfect event for us to attend. Consider it your first lesson in disreputable behavior. If you are going to be a scoundrel—which is why, I may assume, you were run out the gangplank or tossed overboard, or whatever you naval fellows say—you might as well gain your lessons from an expert.”

Temple tapped on the roof to get his driver’s attention. After he gave Elton directions, he sat back down.

Colin shook his head. “I’m in no mood for gambling and drinking tonight. Besides, I can use the time well enough to see to other matters.”

Temple eyed him. “Other matters, eh? And so soon. Could you by chance mean a new ship?”

Glancing out the window, Colin did his best to ignore his cousin’s perceptive inquiries.

His cousin continued unabashedly “My, how interesting that you’ve secured a position so quickly. Now who on earth would hire
you
to captain a ship?”

“Easy there,” Colin warned. “Just leave off on your speculations. ’Tis better for all concerned.”

“Must be something rather urgent,” Temple mused, a grin pulling at his lips, “if you are fleeing town so soon. And probably on the morning tide, if I were to guess. And mind you, I’m only guessing.”

Colin shot him an irritated glance. He actually planned to sail in two days—on the morning tide—but he wasn’t going to tell his cousin that.

“You can’t turn down the offer of just one drink,” Temple said, applying the same wheedling tone he’d used when they’d been school lads together and Temple had devised some novel sort of mischief. “Besides, you’ll never make a proper bastard if you continue to live by duty and honor alone. And you do want the world to think you are one, don’t you?”

Colin shook his head. “You aren’t going to let me be, are you?”

His cousin grinned. “No, I consider it my sacred duty to be the one who introduces you to your new existence. Come now, I’m just proposing one small drink. A toast, let’s say, to your unnamed ventures.”

Colin knew well enough that one drink with Temple was asking for trouble. But then again, he’d spent most of the day up to his neck in problems, so what was one more in a long list?

Besides, Temple might be right, he didn’t know much about living outside Society. The ordered regulations of naval life that had guided him since he’d set sail as a midshipman at the age of thirteen no longer applied.

If he was to do what needed to be done, he’d have to convince the world he was the traitor and scoundrel the Admiralty had declared him to be.

He held up a single finger. “Just one drink.”

“That’s the spirit,” his cousin declared.

“I’ve a grand evening in mind.”

Colin wanted to groan. This was how it always started with Temple—and quickly got out of hand. He’d probably wake up in a fortnight only to find himself in Ireland, without his wallet and any recollection how he had spent the last fourteen days other than the evidence his pounding headache would provide.

Still, he had one advantage that might hinder Temple’s enthusiasm and plans.

“Considering the greeting I just received at Lamden’s,” he told him, “I doubt I’ll have much of a reception at your club.”

Temple’s grin spread across his face. “As if I ever do! But forget White’s. I have a better place in mind. Have you ever heard of the Cyprian’s Ball?” When Colin shook his head, his cousin’s smile widened even further. “I thought not. Too much time at sea and not enough living the good life here in town. The Cyprian’s Ball is just the place to mend a broken heart.”

Colin wasn’t about to comment on the state of his heart. Especially since he could hardly describe it as “broken.”

In truth, Lady Diana had done him a favor by jilting him. She’d set him free. As free as Nelson had by casting him out of the navy.

So instead, he said, “A ball, you say? I’m hardly in the mood for dancing and debutantes.”

“Who said anything about dancing?” Temple replied with a hearty laugh.

Colin should have known that any assembly highly recommended by his rakish cousin would be anything but respectable.

The Cyprian’s Ball was no exception.

The great room overflowed with the city’s highest-paid mistresses, courtesans, and ladies of questionable repute—and milling merrily through this ignoble milieu were the crème de la crème of the
ton’s
randiest males—all eagerly seeking a new conquest.

If there was ever a place to begin working on his new reputation as a disreputable bounder, Colin had found the right spot and the best of company.

Given the notoriety of the ball and the infamous crowd gathered there, few guests caused much of a stir, if any. But when Colin arrived, a groundswell of stunned silence rolled through the room.

By the time Temple arrived on the steps beside him, all eyes were turned in their direction, a wave of whispers already rising to a dull roar.

“Court-martialed.”

“Terribly rich . . . at least before.”

“Should be hanging in front of the Admiralty.”

“Bloody coward. Can’t believe he’d show his face.”

Colin ignored the commentary. Given Lady Diana’s reception, he supposed he couldn’t expect anything less. Most of the men in the crowd, those in uniform especially, gave him the cut direct. The majority of the ladies regarded him with scant interest, his less than rosy financial state more of a concern to their mercenary interests than his social ruin.

“See,” Temple said, waving at several of the groups of ladies as if they were old friends. Finally, one older lady, far past her first bloom, and probably past her second and third, waved back. “There’s someone who hasn’t heard of your disgrace. Or your lack of funds.”

“Temple, I don’t think—” Colin turned to leave, but his cousin caught him by the shoulder.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he said. “You promised. One drink. And I mean to see that you keep your word.”

Colin glanced over the room packed cheek to jowl with lightskirts and Paphians. A table on the far side looked to be serving some sort of brew. “I don’t think the refreshments are why one comes here. Besides, it will take an hour, maybe more, to reach our cups.”

“You noticed that?” Temple said, lifting his lorgnette to his eyes and gauging the distance for himself. “But you see, that is the beauty of seeking our one drink here. In addition to a cup of the weakest punch in town, on your way to claim it, you may just find a woman who steals your heart at first glance.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Colin told him. “Remember? I’m the one who wants a
wife
. A sensible lady of good breeding. Not one of these high-flyers.”

“If that’s what you wanted, that should have ruled out Lady Diana to begin with,” Temple mused. “Such manners! I always suspected she possessed a shrew’s tongue under all those tight lacings. No one can be that proper.”

Ignoring his cousin, Colin continued, “When you come into Grandfather’s title, you’ll understand the obligations of family and the need for marriage.”

Temple regarded him with a mix of skepticism, as if that type of dour responsibility would never rest on his shoulders.

But Colin knew it all too well—ever since his father had died in a carriage accident the previous year, leaving Colin the barony and all the rights and responsibilities it held.

And though his younger brother Robert stood to inherit behind him, he was an irresponsible young rapscallion, hardly capable of taking on the Danvers’ estates and obligations. Robert was heading into the army for the sole reason that there wasn’t a school or university left in England that would accept him. He’d shown a fondness for munitions that had blown up portions of the dean’s house at his most recent alma mater, and then there had been the incident at his previous school involving a monument to Oliver Cromwell and a small canon.

Unfortunately, Colin’s half-brothers Orlando and Raphael, twins from his father’s second marriage, to the daughter of a Spanish grandee, weren’t much better Raphael’s antics had all the earmarkings of rendering Robert’s exploits amateurish. Luckily, Colin had been able to secure the pair a place in a school that was willing to take them on the grounds that neither lad shared Robert’s well-known interest in explosives.

No, Colin needed a wife, a gentle lady who could help him oversee his brothers’ upbringing and add a stamp of respectability to the family name that it had long been lacking.