She pressed on, an edge of defiance in her tone. “It does not change my opinion of you, My Lord. My manners simply would not allow me to overlook your act of kindness.”
As he stepped closer, he felt the air between them crackle with tension. He could not help but observe that she was particularly beautiful when she was not angry with him, although even he would not have gone so far as to say such a thing out loud. And even now, he could see that flash in her eyes that suggested to him that she was not entirely calm.
“I must confess I am disappointed,” he replied. “It is my sole aim for this gathering, to convince you that I am a decent man after all.”
“It would hardly be a compliment, My Lord,” Diana replied, “for me to call you decent. Simply the least that anyone would expect of someone in your position.”
Tristan grinned. “Well, perhaps I shall lower my expectations a little. But I confess that I did enjoy coming to your rescue.”
As she stood before him, he savored the way her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade. “It was not necessary, My Lord,” she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am grateful all the same.”
“I have embarrassed you, somehow,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to match hers. “I find that your blush suits you remarkably well. It adds a certain…vibrancy to your character.”
Diana looked away, and he could see the wheels turning in her mind. “I must remind you that flattery will not earn you my favor, My Lord.”
“Ah, but you are to be my future sister-in-law, are you not?” he said, infusing his tone with mock seriousness. “It is my duty to defend you against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or in this case, the barbs of ill-mannered dinner guests.”
He watched as her expression shifted, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features. Perhaps she wanted to believe that he had done it for her own sake, rather than out of a sense of familial duty. And perhaps she was right? The thought stirred something unsettling in his gut. He had acted on instinct, and he had not fully understood his motives himself. And he sensed that she was second-guessing him even now, as they stood together in the dimly-lit corridor.
“So you only did it to get on my good side?” Diana said, her eyes fixed on his.
“Lady Diana, surely you must know that I am determined to make you change your mind about me? But you seem put out, somehow. It seems that no matter what I do, I disappoint you in some way.”
She shook her head, almost as if she were trying to shake a particular thought out of her mind. “It is of no consequence,” she said quickly.
The truth of it, though, he realized, as he looked at her, was that he had been so irritated to see someone insulting her, that he could not stand by and do nothing. Every fiber of his being had wanted to defend her, and he could not fight against it. But how could he explain that to her? It was impossible.
“I have irritated you yet again,” he said. He tried to keep his voice teasing, but there was something genuine in the way he was feeling. He had not intended to annoy her, only to save her from the attentions of that awful man.
“And I had such high hopes for this evening,” he went on. “But at least it is far more enjoyable to irritate you when you are not seething with indignation.” He hoped that his smile would disarm her a little; he could see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, tempered by the hint of a smile threatening to break through her carefully-composed facade. How he wished he could see it break down entirely and that she would let her true self be revealed.
Diana rolled her eyes, the exasperation evident on her face, yet a smile began to tug at the corners of her lips. “My opinion of you has not changed, My Lord, despite my gratitude,” she replied. Her tone was measured but light, and he could see that she was still not fully at ease in his company.
“And now we must return to the party. We should not be here alone.” She turned, her back to him, but something compelled him to reach out; he felt an urge, somehow, to bridge the distance that had formed between them. His fingers grazed her cheek in a gentle touch, a fleeting moment that felt both bold and intimate.
“Indeed we should not,” he murmured. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, a warmth that sent an unexpected thrill through him. “And yet, here we are again, alone together.” The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken tension.
She paused and he sensed her breath catching in her throat. There was uncertainty in her gaze, but also something electric about the way she looked at him then. There was a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something deeper in her eyes that made his heart race.
“You are my future sister-in-law, after all,” he added, trying to inject a softer note into the conversation, as if to quell the rising tension between them. He was making an effort to lighten the mood, but also to convince himself that his intentions remained purely familial, despite the undeniable chemistry crackling in the space between them.
He took a steadying breath, mentally preparing himself to return to the festivities of the party. But the encounter weighed heavily on his mind, like a shadow that refused to fade. Had he said too much, or perhaps not enough? The questions swirled in his mind, leaving him in a state of disquiet. As he watched her walk away, her figure retreating into the drawing room, he felt a pang of regret, a longing for a moment that could have been different, more than just a fleeting brush with intimacy. The laughter and chatter of the party faded into the background, replaced by the echo of his own thoughts, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between them.
CHAPTER 12
“Lady Diana, come and join us for a game!”
Diana looked across the drawing room to where the Dowager Countess of Silvermere, the earl’s grandmother, was holding court at the card tables set up for the evening’s entertainment. Grace had been disappointed that there would not be dancing tonight, but Diana suspected that Tristan had deliberately chosen a more staid amusement for his guests on the first evening of the party. Dancing would come later, no doubt.
Grace, she was pleased to see, was ensconced in a corner chatting with Cecilia, and Tristan was nowhere to be seen. It was safe, she thought, to go and play a game of cards with the Dowager, Lady Louisa. From the look on the older lady’s face, it did not seem as if she would have accepted a refusal to her invitation in any case. She gave off an air of authority, despite also having a slightly absent-minded look about her.
As Diana took a seat at the card table, the Dowager began to deal the cards for the first round. She wondered, as she waited for the game to begin, why she felt so nervous. Over the years, she had perfected the art of maintaining her composure in society, and a card game at a party was nothing unusual for her. Yet this evening, an odd anxiety settled in her chest, and she could not quite pinpoint its source. She felt a surge of irritation at her inability to control her own feelings.
She glanced around the room as the other players took their seats and prepared for the game. The earl’s drawing room was adorned with exquisite tapestries and gilded mirrors, each piece seeming to be carefully-chosen and perfectly placed. The grandeur of the surroundings served as a constant reminder of his superior position in society. Even though Diana was not unaccustomed to mingling with the upper echelons of society, she still found herself feeling a little intimidated amidst such splendor.
“I am glad that you could join us for the game, Lady Diana,” the dowager said, eyeing Diana across the table with a sharp yet warm gaze. “I trust you are ready to lose to an old hand?”
Diana forced a smile, the older lady’s banter providing a moment of comfort amidst her unease. “Thank you, My Lady,” she replied, shifting slighting in the plush chair opposite the dowager. She adjusted her skirts, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
