She rolled his eyes. “You like her. Diana says you are not looking for a tryst. Why? You are one of the most notorious men in all of London.”
He choked on his wine. Lady Clark patted him on the back and told the table, “He is fine. He took too big of a drink.”
Everyone resumed their conversations. Lady Clark whispered, “Well, maybe not in so many words.”
He looked at her skeptically, suspecting Diana hadn’t shared any of their private conversations with her. “I’m taking a break from vice and interludes.”
Disappointment flitted across the older woman’s face. “What a waste. Why?”
Sebastian stopped himself from laughing. “I’ve had too much fun. A break is good for me.”
Lady Clark snorted. “Or more like torture.”
Sebastian couldn’t let her make assumptions about Diana and him. “We are business associates and friends, that is all.”
She sighed dramatically. “Well, at least there is Messina. He would be the second-best option and will be with us until we reach Malaga.”
His brows drew together confused. “What do you mean?”
“Captain Monroe mentioned to me earlier today he would be joining us on the ship.”
Sebastian didn’t like that at all. He frowned at Messina and Diana at the end of the table. “I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Yes, it’s a shame you are out of the game.”
He glanced at her and saw a gleam of something in her eyes. Was she attempting to rile him up? He was tempted to ask her why. But he reminded himself that Diana and he had two different focuses. He was trying to be vice free while she was trying to live a little. Then why did he feel like he was the perfect person to show her all about vice, not Messina?
Later that evening, Sebastian sat next to Diana in a box at theTeatro do Principe, waiting for the opera about star-crossed lovers to begin. Messina insisted on sitting on the other side of her. He wanted to make sure Diana understood the scenes because they were in Portuguese. It was a damn opera. Most didn’t need to be translated.
He’d only briefly spoken with Diana since leaving the hotel for dinner and the evening’s entertainment. The count seemed to be happy to monopolize her time. Messina excused himself to fetch champagne. Diana turned to him. “I have so enjoyed Porto. Have you?”
“It appears you have enjoyed the count.”
Her eyes widened at his words, but she didn’t say anything. His tone had been unreasonably harsh. She didn’t deserve that. He sighed. “I’m sorry that was very rude of me. I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.”
“Even if Messina hadn’t joined us, I would still think Porto was exquisite.”
He forced himself to smile. “I apologize.”
She nodded and was quiet for a moment but eventually said, “It’s nice to have someone find me desirable after being alone.”
Sebastian wanted her to have that. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone wouldn’t find her tempting. Hell, he’d found her desirable even with her damn cap. It wasn’t her fault he was struggling with watching her flirt with the count. They’d decided they were friends and friends only. Sebastian should be happy as her friend she was getting her flirtation.
“I’m glad you are enjoying your time with him.”
She studied him as if looking for something. He kept his face emotionless. He would never want Diana to think he was judging her. Hell, he had no room to judge her.
“Enjoy the evening, Diana,” he said.
She nodded and turned back to the stage. Messina reappeared with their drinks as the opera started. Sebastian did his best to ignore him whispering in Diana’s ear and her giggles. It had nothing to do with him, he told himself, glowering at the stage.
Chapter Fourteen
Diana laughed asshe sat on the blanket, enjoying the warm sun while listening to Costa’s associate Dom Alido explain to them the history of the port. She touched her hand to her cheeks and realized she was hot but wasn’t sure if it was from the sun or the port they consumed. She’d found Le Conquet fascinating, but Porto and the surrounding countryside had her heart. She wondered if she could bring Robert here someday.
Her mind flitted to Arthur. She hadn’t thought much of him since leaving. His potential proposal still hung in the air. The man, on the surface, was her perfect match. She looked around and suspected he would find all of this not up to his standards. The thought unsettled her. Was her ideal partner someone who wouldn’t enjoy this?
She glanced at Devons, so different from Arthur. He lounged on another blanket, sipping his port without a care in the world. She questioned if he were ever not comfortable. Even mending his broken heart, he seemed content. She wondered if what he said previously was true. Did he think his feelings for Lady Wesley were not as deep as he initially thought? Why did that stir something in her?
