Chapter 6
“Shall we go through?”
Diana forced herself to blink away the unexpected chill that settled on her at the marquess’s departure and turned what she hoped was a brilliant smile in the captain’s direction. “I’d be honored, Captain.”
She slid her hand into the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead her through to Chase’s large dining hall. When she searched for something to say, though, she failed to come up with anything even remotely witty.
Should she flirt? Should she attempt an air of mystery? If her instincts had been wrong before, could she rely on them now? She wished she had been able to spend a few more minutes alone with Lord Greystone. He could have instructed her as to what to say to the Captain.
Reeling, her emotions lurched wildly.
Lord Greystone had called herDiana. NotMissDiana.
Just…Diana. The word that was her name had sounded so… proper. But it had also sounded sensual as it rolled off his tongue.
How was it that he managed to sound more aristocratic than her brother or even her father ever had?
Was it his arrogance? Confidence? Or was it simply something that was unique to himself?
“That color gown suits you. Brings out the lovely shade of your eyes,” Captain Edgeworth filled the silence.
Diana had all but forgotten that she was wearing her favorite of all the new gowns she and Bethany had decided upon for the Season. The muslin underdress was an eggshell blue, almost white, and the overlay consisted of a transparent material. But her favorite detail was the row of painstakingly embroidered bluebirds that had been crocheted and appeared to be dancing along the hem. A few pointed upward as though they would fly past her bodice and into the sky.
The dress was both whimsical and innocent, without being gaudy.
Most of the debutantes complained of having to wear mostly pastels, but since Diana hadn’t ever expected any of this, she was delighted with her new wardrobe.
There was something… pure about them, and in the eyes of society, from her very first breath, no one had ever considered her to be untainted.
“Thank you.” She glanced over at the captain. His shoulders were slightly broader than the marquess’s, but he wasn’t quite as tall. And his lips were full, his jaw rugged, and she appreciated the midnight blue of his eyes. “I must admit that I was exceedingly pleased when I learned England’s most famous heroes would be joining us for dinner this evening.”
Exceedingly pleased?
Most Famous heroes?She cringed at her own words. It served her right for trying to sound like she belonged in society.
Captain Edgeworth laughed. Was he laughing at her? Or was he pleased with the compliment she’d given him?
“It was our pleasure.” He covered her hand with his.
This gentleman’s touch was pleasant—even a little exciting. But it didn’t elicit that odd buzzing sensation deep in her belly.
Thank heavens.Such a feeling could have a girl thinking she might be coming down with a deadly disease.
As they entered the high-ceilinged room that’s length nearly extended the depth of the entire townhouse, servants greeted each guest individually and led them to their respective places at the long table.
As host and hostess, Chaswick sat at one end and Bethany at the other. Her sister-in-law had, of course, assigned Diana the seat beside Captain Edgeworth.
And most serendipitously, Lord Greystone sat on her opposite side. Lord Major Cockfield sat directly across from her, flanked by Lady Isabella—who sat directly across from Lord Greystone—and Collette.
Even before everyone was seated, menservants circled the table pouring wine for everyone.
Diana reached for her glass but froze and felt herself flush when she bumped elbows with Lord Greystone. Had anyone noticed? It had been an accident. She knew the rules. In addition to that, she was the host’s sister.
But you are illegitimate.A voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother’s whispered in her head, keeping her from becoming overly confident.
“My apologies, my lord,” she murmured.
“My fault.” He leaned closer, and this time, at the sound of his lowered voice, the buzzing was accompanied by a warm sense of belonging. “I knocked the knife right out of a lady’s hand at the very first formal dinner party I ever attended. The Countess of Peabody. I rather thought she might have apoplexy.”
