Virginia Henley (4 page)

Diana gasped as the dark stranger laid hands upon her He was so tall she was only slightly elevated above him. She stared down into black eyes that were blatantly assessing her scantily clad charms.

“Introduce us, Allegra,” he ordered.

“Not a chance, you audacious devil. She is not a morsel to be devoured by your voracious appetite.”

“I promise to savor her. Like a fine wine, I shall sip, hold her on my tongue, then taste her again and again, taking all night to slake my thirst.”

Allegra was speechless. She could hardly expose Lady Diana Davenport’s identity to the Earl of Bath.

Diana was anything but speechless. Her anger ignited and blazed forth, loosening her tongue in the process. “You lecherous swine! Slake your thirst elsewhere!” Her foot shot out, kicking him on the top of his shin. Alas, her golden sandals offered no protection when her toes struck solid bone and muscle. “Ouch!” she cried.

The earl deftly took hold of her foot, amused that she had suffered the pain she had intended to inflict upon him. With her foot firmly in his hand, his eyes slowly traveled up the contour of her long leg.

Outraged, she snatched an arrow from its gilt case and jabbed it into the hand holding her foot. When he didn’t let go, she gave him a second jab, which was more savage. This time he loosened his grip, but proceeded to slide his hand all the way up to her thigh before he removed it.

Diana’s face blushed scarlet beneath the mask. Suddenly she was afraid of the powerful male who was handling her body as if she were on display for his personal pleasure. Desperately she looked for Allegra, but that lady was nowhere to be seen. The platform was overcrowded with females in varying costumes. A ballet dancer was pressed up against a shepherdess, who was in turn being elbowed aside by an angel.

Diana looked down into a sea of men’s faces, all laughing, leering, and shouting at the fellow dressed as Cupid. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure she should be here in this provocative costume. It had seemed such a daring escapade earlier, but now she questioned the wisdom of coming to
the Pantheon in disguise or otherwise. Perhaps the place was too worldly for an unmarried lady of her tender years.

The Earl of Bath couldn’t take his eyes from the golden-haired girl in front of him. Obviously she was a demirep, but she was so young, she couldn’t have been on the game long. He was usually attracted to older women of experience, but this wonderful vision had a natural beauty whose freshness and vitality were somehow a potent lure tonight. Then and there he made up his mind to have her! He raised his hand several times to Cupid as did the other men all about him.

The angel beside Diana reached over and plucked off her winged mask. “This would be perfect with my costume. Do you mind?”

“Of course I bloody well mind,” Diana said, aghast that someone might recognize her. “Go play your stupid harp on some other cloud!” she said, grabbing back the mask to cover her identity. Then she looked down into jet black eyes as she felt herself being lifted from the platform.

“What the devil are you doing?” she demanded as her feet found the floor.

He grinned down at her. “I’ve just bought you, Diana.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she gasped in a total panic because he called her by name, then she realized he was using the goddess’s name.

“The auction—Cupid there is auctioning off all the young nymphs on the platform and I just paid the winning bid for you.”

“But that is impossible!” she protested, horrified.

“It’s for charity, my sweet. It’s all for a good cause, I assure you.” Smooth as silk, the Earl of Bath lifted two glasses of champagne from the silver tray of a liveried servant
passing by and placed one in her hand. “Let’s both slake our thirsts tonight.”

His deep voice was so dangerously seductive, it affected her in a strange way that shocked her. The suggestive things he said, coupled with the resonant tone, made her body tingle in all its most private places. Close to panic, Diana threw the contents of the champagne glass into his face and fled.

At the door she saw Allegra had already retrieved her cloak in anticipation of an early escape. Diana covered her costume quickly. “I should never have come.”

“Oh, don’t go all respectable on me, darling; time for that tomorrow in the cold light of day!”

As they made their way toward Grosvenor Square, Diana began to laugh. “Sorry. Actually I was having the time of my life until that loathsome man forced his attentions upon me!”

“That loathsome man was the Earl of Bath,” Allegra drawled.

“Oh lord, and I threw champagne in his face!”

“I daresay that dampened his ardor.”

“Thank heavens I was disguised,” Diana said with fervor.

As they turned down North Audley Street toward Grosvenor Square, a black carriage halted beside them. The door opened and a powerful hand plucked Diana from the pavement and deposited her against the velvet squabs of the shadowed interior.

Diana screamed.

“Don’t be alarmed, we are acquainted, and before the night is over I daresay we shall be on even more intimate terms.”

Diana recognized the voice, which only increased her fear. “How dare you accost me? What the devil do you want?”

“I simply want my money’s worth,
chérie.”
He paused, then drawled, “And perhaps an apology for the champagne.”

“Me apologize to you?” Diana demanded in outrage. “You are the one who should apologize for touching my leg!”

“I’m sorry I touched your leg—I would have much preferred caressing your breast.”

Diana gasped. She not only feared him, but was beginning to fear herself and her reaction to this dangerous man. She felt a magnetic attraction to him, yet knew she must repel him at all costs. Then she realized the carriage was moving and she gasped again. “Where are you taking me?”

“My town house. It isn’t far.”

“Sir, you can
not!
You have mistaken me for a … a cyprian. I am actually a lady in disguise,” Diana confessed.

He laughed. The sound was rich and dark and enveloping. “I don’t think so.”

“Why would you say such a thing?”

He struck a match and lit a carriage light. His face was half shadowed, but hers was bathed in the glow of the lamp. “You are certainly lovely enough to be a lady and your voice is quite cultured, but it rather gave the game away when you were accompanied by Allegra. She runs one of the finest riding academies in London. She supplies half the aristocracy with mounts.”

For a moment she wondered what he was talking about, but when it dawned upon her that he meant Allegra was a procurist, she blushed to her navel.

He saw the color suffuse her face and knew a need to see the beauty he had only glimpsed beneath the mask. The carriage was drawing up at Jermyn Street, however, and he
decided to let her keep her mask in place until they were safely inside.

When he offered her his hand, she said in outrage, “I cannot come into your town house!”

“Ah, at last the light is beginning to dawn. You know who I am and are determined to get the highest possible price.”

“No! Yes—that is, I do know who you are…”

A cynical smile curved his lips. “Then come up while we negotiate.”

A blazing wave of anger swept over her. She had never encountered such an arrogant male in her life. He needed a set-down and she intended to give him one. She began to hastily form a plan.

Like a goddess, Diana gave him her hand and allowed him to assist her to alight. He unlocked the door and waved back the majordomo, who melted into the shadows when he saw the earl was not alone. Her abductor gestured toward the staircase and Diana swept up to the first floor as if she were ascending Olympus, giving the man behind her a full look at her shapely legs.

While the earl lit the lamps in the magnificently appointed sitting room, Diana walked slowly around assessing the furnishings with a critical eye. She glanced at the linen-fold paneling, the rich leather wingbacks, the Van Dyke paintings, and declared, “Rather masculine.”

“I should hope so,” he said in an amused tone. He went to a Sheraton wine table and poured them two glasses.

“What a courageous man you are,” Diana said, eyeing the wine.

“I am gambling that you won’t throw a second one.” He could no longer conceal his amusement, nor his anticipation.

“You may lose that bet,” she warned lightly.

She took a sip, eyeing him over the rim of her glass, then said, “So this is how it is done.” She lowered her lashes. “You may open negotiations.”

He quirked a black brow. “Are you sure this is your first time?”

“The first time I’ve been propositioned or the first time I’ve considered taking a paramour?” Diana was aghast at her own daring, but her inner she-devil was driving her.

He saw her eyes glitter through the mask and knew she was thoroughly enjoying herself. He grew marble-hard thinking about the sport she would provide in bed. He could almost feel her long legs slide up his back. “I’ll pay your dress bills and provide you with a ladies’ maid,” he offered.

Diana set the wine down. “You are wasting both my time and your own.”

The earl picked up the glass and handed it back to her. “I’ll lease you a
pied-á-terre,
and provide you with your own carriage,” he added as an inducement.

Diana licked her lips. Hardwick felt his shaft pulse.

“Your offer”—she paused dramatically—“is insulting,” she finished.

Some of the casual amusement left his eyes and was replaced by an intense look of desire. “You play the game very well, little goddess. I am prepared to buy you a house —if you please me in every way.”

Diana ran the tip of her finger around the rim of the glass. “Did I hear you say
carte blanche,
my lord?” She was almost carried away by a delicious feeling of power.

“Goddamn it, you strike a hard bargain!” He stared at her for long minutes, his expression grim as his mind argued with his body. His body won.

“Carte blanche
it is,” he agreed, a look of triumph in his eyes.

Diana poured her wine into a vase of lilies.
“Carte blanche
it isn’t, I’m afraid.”

“What the devil do you mean?”

“I mean
no.
My answer is
no.”

“Why?” he demanded.

Diana looked him up and down. “Because you are too
arrogant, too cocksure, and far, far too old for me, Lord Bath.”

Mark Hardwick, the Earl of Bath, was stunned.

“Don’t bother to show me out, I know my way about the streets very well.”

Without even being aware of it, Hardwick crushed the wineglass he was holding.

Lady Diana found her carriage waiting at the corner of Grosvenor Square. When she rapped on the door, it took a few minutes before a disheveled James scrambled out.

Inside Diana threw off her cloak. She was breathless from the deliciously close encounter she had just experienced with the virile earl. When he had made it plain that he desired her, she was filled with a wicked pleasure. “Quickly, help me off with my costume,” she begged Biddy. “How in the world will I get back into my bloody corset in this cramped space?”

Biddy replied blandly, “It’s a bit of a struggle, but it can be managed. Trust me, my lady.”

Early the next morning Diana bathed and washed her hair, making sure every last trace of
maquillage
was erased.

Prudence, chocolate cup in hand, surveyed her with dismay. “You’ve washed your head! How tiresome. Hurry and get your hair dried. I accepted an invitation for you to ride in Hyde Park this afternoon.”

“With whom?” Diana demanded, feeling annoyed at the control Prudence always exercised over her.

“With Peter Hardwick, of course. He has been most punctilious in paying his calls. I must say his manners are impeccable. Which is only as it should be.”

Diana was somewhat mollified when she heard the name and decided the library fire would be ideal to dry her hair. While pacing impatiently in front of the roaring
flames, her eyes traveled over the titles of the leather-bound volumes, searching for something that would sweep her away to another time and place. She chose
The Legend of King Arthur
and curled up before the fire in a spacious wingback chair to read.

As always, Diana’s imagination took flight. She was transported back to where the swirling mists revealed the earthly paradise known as Avalon. Diana had no notion of time, but all at once she became aware of the fact that she was no longer alone. With reluctance, she lifted her eyes from her book and peered over the top of the wing chair. She withdrew her head immediately like a turtle retreating into his shell, her thoughts in complete disarray.

Except for the crackle of the fire, silence blanketed the room. Diana raised her head to see if her imagination was playing tricks on her. She looked directly into a pair of jet black eyes!

The eyes widened slightly in surprise before they glittered with animosity. “Diana discovered,” he sneered.

“How did you find me?” she hissed in outrage.

“I assure you I was not searching. Fate is taking perverse pleasure, throwing you in my path.”

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, snapping closed her book and advancing toward him in an aggressive manner.

“I fail to see where it is any of your business, but I’m here to consider buying a library.”

His words halted her advance. “Not
this
library?”

“This
library.” His deep voice clipped off the words, clearly showing his irritation.

“That is impossible. This library is not for sale. You have been misinformed, Lord Bath.”

He was annoyed that the girl knew his identity without him knowing hers. “Who the devil do you think you are?”

“I am Lady Diana Davenport, the owner of this library.”

“Hello, Diana,” Richard said, entering the book-lined
room. “I had no idea you were in here, m’dear. Sorry to disturb you.”

“Richard, I am more than disturbed. This … gentleman is under the misapprehension that I am selling my library.”

“I understood the library was
yours
to sell, Davenport,” Lord Bath said bluntly.

“Then you understood wrongly, my lord,” Diana interjected. “My late father’s collection is priceless, at least to me. It is
not
for sale.” She glared at Bath, defying him to inform her uncle about last night in retaliation.

The earl had no such petty intent. He spoke to her as an equal. “You are quite right about the worth of this library. I understand perfectly your reluctance to part with it. I thought Davenport had the legal right to dispose of it.” His voice was smooth and unruffled yet more than a trifle regretful.

“I
do
have the legal right to dispose of it,” Richard asserted. “I am the executor of my late brother’s will and my niece’s legal guardian and financial counselor until she comes of age. My brother intended that Lady Diana be guided by me in all things.”

“How could you even think of selling Father’s books?” Diana demanded passionately. “I’ve grown up surrounded by them. They are part of my life. It would be like cutting off my arm to part with them!”

“Enough theatrics, Diana. It is most ill-bred of you to argue family matters before his lordship.” Richard was taken off-guard. Diana had never defied him before.

“Heaven forbid that anyone should act ill-bred in front of the earl!” She could still feel the heat from his ill-bred hand sliding up her leg.

“Leave the room!” Richard was livid.

With flags flying in both cheeks, Diana lifted her chin in the air, flicked aside her skirts as if they would be contaminated if they touched the men, and departed with the
hauteur
of a queen.
Or a goddess,
thought Bath.

* * *

When Diana entered the dining room at lunchtime, she fully expected both Richard and Prudence would call her to task over her shocking display of bad manners. She braced herself for the confrontation. Richard, however, was conspicuous by his absence and Prudence was tight-lipped from what appeared to be pain.

Diana was moved to compassion immediately. “Is it your hip, Prudence?”

“Among other things,” Prudence accused.

Damn the Earl of Bath to hellfire,
thought Diana. At every encounter sparks flew between them, igniting emotions that threatened to consume them. If he hadn’t treated her like a trollop last night, none of this would have happened. She would still not have allowed Richard to sell her father’s library to him, but she would have at least spoken to the earl in a civilized manner.

Prudence refused to make conversation. Her face was tight with pain, which she was determined to suffer in silence. Diana’s lunch was quite ruined. She excused herself to dress for her afternoon ride in the park. She hadn’t been sure she wanted to go, but Peter Hardwick’s company would be a welcome diversion.

As Diana descended the staircase in an afternoon gown of delicate green carrying a matching pistache parasol, Prudence inquired, “Where are you going, Diana?”

“For a drive in the park with Peter Hardwick. You accepted the invitation for me.”