Chapter 3
“Ido not pine, Miss Diana.” Greys pulled the oars, enjoying the gentle strain in his arms as he contemplated his companion’s impudent question. “I simply decide.”
Because he did, in fact, intend to claim a bride that spring. He was nearing thirty, which was the age his father had married, and his grandfather as well. He would uphold the family tradition by marrying the very proper Lady Isabella, newly come-out daughter of the Earl of Huntly.
As Chaswick had pointed out to him a few days earlier, Lady Isabella was younger than he’d prefer, but she’d been raised to be the mistress of an aristocratic household. And with her dark brown hair and lovely complexion, the gel was the perfect English rose, a diamond of the first water.
But he wasn’t about to divulge this to her. It wasn’t necessary. All of theTonwould know soon enough.
Miss Diana slowly twisted around as though looking for something or someone.
“Where is this most accommodating lady?” She tapped her gloved finger against full lips, looking inappropriately gleeful. “Interesting strategy, rowing one lady on the lake while having decided on another.”
Greys pinched back a smile. He couldn’t very well tell Miss Jones that he was rowing her as a favor to her brother. Although, she seemed more than intelligent enough to suspect as much.
“It’s the very best of strategies, one you might wish to try yourself.” He advised instead.
The teasing look fled her pretty blue eyes. “You are being serious?”
Although Miss Diana had been educated on the ins and outs of society, she obviously lacked pertinent knowledge of the finer details a lady required to successfully land a respectable gentleman.
Perhaps he could fill her in on a few of them.
“Courtship is akin to a game of cards,” he explained.
Miss Diana nodded, and another chestnut curl escaped from beneath the jaunty hat pinned atop her head. “I know about bluffing.”
“Exactly. Gentlemen mustn’t be privy to the cards you’re holding. Most amongst the male species enjoy a mystery—a challenge.”
She appeared doubtful, but he could see by the look in those pretty eyes of hers that he’d piqued her interest.
“You are saying I oughtn’t to appear interested in a particular gentleman, even if I am actually interested in him? Should I appear interested in some other gentleman?”
“Possibly. But only if that other fellow is taken with you.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, the fact that I’m not exactly a suitable lady precludes that. Every single bachelor I’ve met seems to be put off by, well, you know. My sister says that if a single gentleman were to step up and not suffer repercussions for it, others might be inclined to take a chance on me as well.”
Greys twisted and pulled hard on the right oar to bring them around, pleased that she didn’t look as nervous of the water as she’d been initially. He’d wager she was even beginning to enjoy herself.
Unfortunately, a glance toward the west revealed gathering storm clouds. The other couples, it seemed, were heading toward shore intent upon cutting their expeditions short.
Greys angled his craft toward the jetty as well.
“Do you think she’s right?”
Her curious eyes, which had seemed the exact color of the lake and sky, now seemed even brighter. She was intrigued.
“It couldn’t hurt,” he agreed.
In the country perhaps, or amongst a less fastidious set, Miss Diana would be inundated with suitors. But she was attempting to infiltrate theTon, and even with a baron and baroness’s sponsorship, the circumstances of her birth would forever stain her reputation mercilessly.
She tilted her head and studied him with narrowed eyes as though contemplating the merits of purchasing a new reticule. Just then, however, a gust of wind lifted the hat off her head and sent it flying across the water.
“Oh!” Forgetting that she was sitting in a boat, floating in the middle of a lake, Miss Diana shot to her feet, pitching both of them side to side alarmingly. “No!... Oh! Oh!” She would have toppled into the water if Greys hadn’t grabbed her around the waist so she toppled onto him instead.
But unfortunately, in saving her, he found himself blanketed in muslin and lace and abundant femininity, and was forced to drop one of the oars, barely managing to keep hold of the other one. With her head tucked beneath his chin, a few errant curls snagging on his beard, he was only vaguely concerned for the paddle floating aimlessly away from their craft.
“That was Bethany’s hat!” She twisted, unsettling the boat again and stabbing one of her elbows dangerously close to Greys' favorite piece of anatomy. “It’s her favorite!”
