"What?" he said. "You have not noticed how those three have been following Miss Wickenham around like lapdogs since she performed a certain fascinating dance two evenings ago?The night of our great triumph as vocal duetists?"
"You found it objectionable?" she asked with a frown.
He raised both eyebrows and gazed mockingly across at her. "Now did I say objectionable?" he asked."Mouthwatering, perhaps.Objectionable, no.I am only amazed that Ernie allowed it. He must have known what was coming since he provided the accompaniment. Of course, that does not necessarily follow. He was probably so intent on scraping his violin during practice that he did not evennoticethat someone was dancing beyond his line of vision. Not that I ever thought Ernie was made of stone."
"But the dance was beautiful!" Diana said indignantly. "She has great talent."
"Without any doubt," the marquess said. His eyes were laughing at her. "Michael and Allan and Lester thought so too."
Diana's lips compressed. "It is just like you to have seen the dance that way," she said. "Oh, it is just like you."
He grinned. "Just like Michael and Allan and Lester too?" he said."And Ernie?"
"Ernest is a gentleman," she said.
He laughed."Precisely.That's why I fear that he might be slapping a single glove in three faces before the week is out."
"Well, there you are wrong," she said. "Ernest does not even like Angela, unfortunately. She says that she cannot do anything right in his eyes."
"That's just like Ernie too," he said, "not even to know when he is attracted to a woman.Now I—" he lowered his voice to a caress—"never ever make that mistake, Diana. I was attracted to you the moment my eyes first rested on you.Though they did not first alight on your face, of course, as you may recall."
"Yes, I do recall," she said, looking straight ahead. "And I see that you are trying to put me to the blush, my lord. But it will not work. If you were a gentleman, you would have looked only into my face on that occasion."
"Diana!" he said. "Am I made of marble? Or am I flesh and blood? And is it your habit that is reflecting from your face? Your cheeks look decidedly pink. And is that a smile that is tugging at the corners of your mouth?For shame, my dear.A lady would be quivering with indignation by now."
Diana tugged the corners of her mouth back down again and said nothing. They had had several such conversations in the past two days. And it wasshameful,and unladylike— she was beginning to enjoy mem.
''You see?'' Lord Wendell called back to the group behind him. He was pointing ahead. "We maligned the lady. She is out riding with her husband already."
Diana could see the ivy-covered stone house of Sir Frederick Huntingdon in the distance. The man himself, with a lady at his side, was riding across a field in their direction. He lifted a hand to acknowledge them. The two groups met on either side of a stile.
Greetings were exchanged and introductions made. Diana smiled and nodded to Lady Huntingdon, who had married the baronet just the year before. It was the second marriage for both of them. And this time he had chosen a beauty. Lady Huntingdon's dark hair was piled beneath a very fashionable riding hat. Dark eyes and eyelashes looked out dreamily from a proud and handsome face. She held herself very straight in the saddle. Her voice when she spoke was low-pitched and soft.
The Marquess of Kenwood was the last to be presented to her, though she must, of course, have looked the whole group over as they approached.
"Oh, Jack," she said, her eyelids drooping as she looked at him, "is it you? And you have been at Rotherham Hall for almost two weeks already? What rotten bad luck that we did not hear before. Life is confounded dull in the country, is it not?"
Diana turned, startled, to look at Lord Kenwood. He was gazing at Lady Huntingdon with half-closed, amused eyes. "Hello, Serena," he said. "It has been a long time."
"You must all come and have tea," she said. She glanced at her husband. "We will not take no for answer, will we, darling? Do ride down to the gate all of you and come through. Jack, you must ride beside me and tell me everything you have been doing in the past two years.Everything, you naughty man.All the sordid details."
Everyone laughed. But Lady Huntingdon did not. Her voice was like a low caress. Diana shivered and glanced up to the sky. But there were no clouds there; the sun was still shining.
They had been lovers, she thought. There could be no doubt about it. It was there in the way they looked at each other. And they did not even seem to care that others too could see it in their eyes. They had been lovers. She was face-to-face with one of his mistresses. But then, of course, that was hardly surprising. The country must be littered with them. And she had known very well about their existence even before meeting this living proof.
It did not matter. It was none of her concern. It did not matter at all to her.
* * *
Serena Mack—as she had been more than two years before—had been a very satisfactory mistress. Beautiful, passionate, experienced: She had had all the qualities the Marquess of Kenwood could possibly ask for in a woman. They had been together for several months, though they had never pretended to remain faithful to each other within that time. And they probably would have stayed together for as many more months if she had not made it progressively more clear to him that she had every intention of becoming his marchioness. She had been widowed for two years at that time.
She was as beautiful as ever.And as seductive.She rode beside him and talked exclusively to him while Diana fell back to ride beside Sir Frederick. And she made no secret of the fact that she was bored in the country, that she welcomed the sight of him and the chance of seeing more of him in the week ahead, and that she would not be at all averse to picking up their affair where they had left it off two years before.
And all this in the relatively short distance they had to ride to the house. Lord Kenwood rode at her side saying little, but merely appreciating her and laughing at her with his eyes.
"At Rotherham Hall I am surrounded by relatives," he said. "The countess is able to tell me the exact relationship of everyone to me. It is a restricting atmosphere, Serena. I fear I must behave myself."
"You behave yourself, darling?" she said, slanting him a look from beneath her lashes. "Can hell freeze over? Can the sun fall from the sky? Can the Marquess of Kenwood behave with decorum? Impossible!"
