The Dangerous Viscount (22 page)

“Any man would be delighted to kiss you.”

“Exactly,” Diana said, her spirits reviving. “And even if I hurt him, and I suppose I did, his reaction was quite excessive.”

“Cain is constantly at me to give the man a second chance, but I was right about him from the start. I always knew there was something very wrong with Sebastian Iverley.”

“What?”

Juliana had nothing new to impart that Diana hadn’t heard before. She’d already heard how her perfidious lover had failed to appreciate Juliana’s talent as a bookseller.

“Is that all?” At this point Diana was ready to hear something much worse: spying for England’s enemies; torturing children or small animals; at the very least cheating at cards.

“I’ll ask Cain,” Juliana promised. “I’ll make him tell me all their male secrets.”

Diana’s momentary animation faded and she returned to reality. “Are you going to tell Lord Chase what happened?”

“I won’t if you don’t wish it, but I think he should know. And Tarquin, too. Let the members of their precious men’s book club know what a snake they have in their midst.”

“Being thrown out of the Burgundy Club would really upset Lord Iverley,” Diana said. “Book collecting is important to him.”

“But he’s the president of the club,” Juliana reflected gloomily. “Even if Cain and Tarquin vote him out, the other members won’t. Not without a reason and you don’t want everyone in London to know what Iverley did to you.”

“Certainly not.”

“But we have the right idea. The way to hurt Iverley is through his collection.”

“Do we really want to hurt him?”

“Diana! How can you ask?”

Diana thought about it and decided she did, almost certainly. “How could we use the books?”

“The man prides himself on always getting a book that he truly wants. He hates to be beaten by other collectors. I wonder if there’s anything particular he’s pursuing.”

A knock at the door heralded the appearance of Minerva.

“Diana,” she cried. “Sebastian’s left and he wouldn’t tell me why.” She approached the bed and gave her sister a ferocious glare. “Did you refuse him? Please tell me you didn’t turn him down.”

“I didn’t refuse him,” Diana said quietly. “He didn’t make me an offer.”

“But he wanted to, I know he wanted to. What did you
do?”

Since she could hardly reveal the truth to a seventeen-year-old girl, she didn’t know how to defend herself.

“Minerva,” Juliana interjected firmly. “Lord Iverley has behaved very badly.” Diana shook her head to warn her not to go on. “I can’t tell you the details …”

“I suppose it’s one of those ‘not in front of young girls’ matters,” Minerva interrupted sulkily.

“Exactly. Don’t ask questions because you won’t get answers and you’ll make things worse for your sister than they already are. She has every reason to be extremely angry.”

Minerva had her faults but stupidity wasn’t one of them. “Oh goodness! Did he …?” She covered her mouth.

“We shall not speak of Lord Iverley or this matter again,” Diana said firmly.

Astonishingly, Minerva burst into tears, something Diana hadn’t witnessed since her sister was in the nursery. “It’s all my fault!” she said through her sobs.

The need to comfort her sister got Diana out of bed as nothing else had all day. She put her arms around the weeping girl. “It’s not your fault, darling. I know you liked him. He deceived us both.”

“I wasn’t deceived. I
knew.”

“What do you mean?”

“The highwayman was Sebastian’s groom. The whole rescue was a counterfeit. I knew it but I didn’t tell you. He wanted you to believe him a hero and I didn’t see the harm in it.”

Diana hadn’t been entirely sure she wanted retribution. Some part of her understood that Sebastian’s actions had been motivated by the desire to pay her back for what he saw as her own betrayal.

Now she remembered her terror that the robber would harm Minerva, her deep relief and gratitude at Sebastian’s rescue. Her anger burned bright and clean, dispelling the sadness and self-reproach that had haunted her sleepless night and solitary day.

She turned to Juliana. “He told me about a book that belonged to Katherine Parr. The last volume he needs for his royal binding collection.”

Juliana smiled. “Am I right in thinking, Diana, that you have a great deal of money?”

Sebastian welcomed the driving rain that penetrated his topcoat and made the journey a misery.

He’d returned to his room the night before aglow with righteous triumph at a mission fulfilled, congratulating himself that he’d overcome a last-minute impulse to mercy. Diana would experience the same pain she’d inflicted on him. They were even. He could return to London and get on with his life.

But the farther he rode away from her, the more she invaded his thoughts. He recalled all the enjoyable times he’d spent in her company. Most of all he remembered the way she’d felt in his arms.

Despite every effort to dwell on practical, useful things as befit a man of logic and common sense,
he found himself wondering what Diana was doing, what she was thinking, even what she was
wearing
for heaven’s sake.

And with whom she was talking. His closest friends remained at Markley Chase. And so did Blakeney.

Sebastian began to fear he’d made a terrible mistake. And the icy water descending his neck seemed a deserved, if inadequate, punishment.

Diana accepted Blakeney’s invitation to walk in the garden during a dry interval after two days of steady downpour. The dank weather had matched her own mood and she hoped a little air would improve it. More important, Blake was the only member of the house party who didn’t treat her with exaggerated solicitude.

Cain and Tarquin were either offering her their arms, as though she were too weak to cross a room without support, paying her outrageous compliments, or trying to raise her spirits with a relentless string of jokes. She quite enjoyed the jokes, but the rest was becoming tiresome.

Minerva and Esther brought her puppies. She had to admit she liked the tiny bulldogs with their wrinkled skin and squashed noses and clumsy paws. The feel of a baby dog snuffling into her neck brought back memories of her childhood, and her mother’s calm presence when things went wrong.

When Juliana wasn’t scribbling letters to various booksellers of her acquaintance, she coaxed Diana to abandon her reducing diet and accept the comfort of cups of chocolate and the bounty of the Markley Chase pastry cook. Diana accepted the former but
hadn’t the appetite for sweetmeats, fruit cakes or much else, one positive result of her humiliation.

Blakeney treated her exactly as he always had. Now she no longer fancied herself in love with him, she realized that his manner was a combination of admiration and disengagement. He liked her, yes, but not enough to let it interfere with his own concerns. Only a man as self-absorbed as he could have failed to notice something amiss. She found his indifference soothing.

He tucked her hand into his arm and looked down intently. He was staring at her bosom with a warm look in his eye. Not the most respectful behavior, but at least he didn’t expect her to collapse into hysterics at a moment’s notice.

“What a fine view,” she remarked.

“What?” he said, then looked up and grinned. “Superb,” he agreed. “Couldn’t be better.”

Lord, he was a handsome man. Too bad looking at him no longer increased her heartbeat.

“I’ve had difficulty getting you to myself,” he said. “Everyone else in the house seems extraordinarily anxious for your company.”

“Very strange,” she said dryly.

“Sorry. Very understandable, of course. Even old Sebastian Owlverley was sniffing around you lately.”

“I don’t believe so.”

“I’m not so sure. That kiss you gave him must have got him interested.”

Anger and mortification, blended with a tinge of guilt, gnawed at her insides. Without thinking
she increased her pace, kicking frost-crisped leaves before her.

“Hey, Diana. Slow down!”

“Can’t you keep up with me?”

“Of course,” Blake said. “But there’s a question I want to ask you. I expect you know what.”

His words were almost the same as Sebastian’s that night, when he’d been about to ask her why she smelled so good. She felt like laughing hysterically and giving Blake the name of her perfumer. How ironic that he was finally making the offer of marriage she no longer desired.

She could be wrong of course. Her judgment was faulty in this regard. Perhaps his proposal would be more of a proposition.

“Yes?” she said.

“Will you marry me, Diana?” Not a poetic offer, but she appreciated the lack of ambiguity.

“Thank you for asking, Blake,” she said.

“Why?”

“Why?” Her question took him aback. “Because I want to, of course.” Perhaps realizing his words lacked fervor, he seemed to search his brain for appropriate vocabulary. “I would be honored and you would make me the happiest of men.”

No longer trusting her own judgment of anyone’s words or motives, she wanted to know exactly where things stood. “Why would marrying me make you happy?”

“You know how I feel about you.”

“Actually I don’t.” He looked so dumbfounded she decided to help him along. “Do you love me?”

“I admire you enormously and take great pleasure in your company. I know we should deal very well together.”

“In other words, no, you don’t love me.” She quelled his protest. “It’s all right. I don’t love you, either.” “You don’t? Does that mean you won’t marry me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Uh, when do you think you might decide?”

“I’d like to ask some questions first. Maybe you’d like to as well. I believe when it comes to marriage everything should be out in the open.”

“I like that. No opportunity for misunderstanding.”

He was taking this very well. Now that she was no longer in love with him, she began to find him likeable.

“You’re the most eligible man in England, Blake. Why have you chosen me?”

“You are very beautiful. And I desire you.” He searched her face. “You don’t mind me saying that, do you? You’re a widow so you know what I’m talking about.”

“I appreciate your frankness. And your interest, too. And let me return the compliment. You are a very handsome man.”

Blake eyed her a little nervously, not certain whether his ardor was reciprocated. Diana didn’t elaborate, purposely. “What else?”

“Well, since we are being frank …”

“And open.”

“Your money would be useful. This isn’t the main thing, I assure you, but it is a factor.”

“Your father is one of England’s richest men. While I perfectly understand that well-endowed brides are always preferred, the heir to a dukedom would have no difficulty marrying a fortune that isn’t tainted by trade.”

“I like the fact that your fortune is your own, not a dowry to be negotiated by your father and mine. I’m tired of living under my father’s thumb and having to beg him for every penny.”

“I confess I’m surprised. I had thought the duke a liberal man.”

“The duke would like to dictate the course of my life. Let’s say that our ideas differ as to how that course should run.”

Diana nodded, intrigued by this new view of Blakeney. “I’d insist on having my money settled on me. And any children, of course.”

“I have no argument with that. I shall inherit the dukedom eventually. I only need the use of your income in the meantime.”

“One other thing. Minerva will make her debut under my aegis next year. She’ll be living with me most of the time until then, and probably until she marries. You and she don’t get on very well.”

“My dear Diana! I’m not about to interfere with your family affairs. I trust your sister and I could rub along well enough. Are you going to say yes?” he coaxed with a smile. “I wish you would.”

Diana closed her eyes for a minute and thought about the advantages of wedding Blake, a consideration for the first time uncolored by infatuation.

She’d be a marchioness, eventually a duchess, her position in the world elevated and unassailable. She’d
be able to do so much for Minerva, for her brothers, and for others, too. The marriage settlement could be written to make sure she retained ample resources to continue her gifts to charity. She would have children, at last. And while the begetting of those offspring no longer filled her with unadorned anticipation, Blake was still highly attractive. She looked him up and down through slitted eyes. Bedding him would hardly be a punishment. Just because she at present lacked all enthusiasm for the idea didn’t mean she’d always feel like that.

She took a deep breath and prepared to make a giant leap of faith. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

With his usual physical grace, Blakeney swept an elegant bow and kissed her hand. “You won’t regret it.”

If Diana expected a wave of euphoria at her betrothal to the man she’d wanted for so many years, she was disappointed. She felt curiously apathetic about her dazzling future.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

She nodded. He leaned over and placed his mouth on hers for a long though not deep kiss. There could be no doubt of Blakeney’s skill and experience. And it left her cold. She refused to recall less skillful kisses and the good-for-nothing louse who bestowed them.

“One thing, Blake.”

“Anything, my love.”

“We shan’t … do anything until we are wed.” “Certainly not. I have far too much respect for you.”

“I know it can be hard for men. Perhaps you would wish for an early marriage.”

Blakeney smiled. “Naturally I am not without recourse but you can be assured of my discretion. I shall never embarrass you.”

Diana hadn’t quite expected that level of frankness. “Er, thank you. I’m sure you won’t.”

“And I have every confidence you’ll extend the same consideration to me. Once we’ve bred an heir or two, of course. We’ll get that done quickly and after that you’ll find me the most complacent of husbands.” Just for a minute his eyes narrowed and he looked anything but complacent. “Don’t have an affair with my cousin Sebastian, will you?”

“I can safely promise I won’t do that.”