Blackheart didn’t respond but simply stared back at him for a significant moment before finally flicking his glance to the notes Greys had been taking.
“Any luck with your equation?”
A more pleasant subject indeed.
Greys reached for the pile of notes on his desk and nodded. He had been working on a theory put forth by the brilliant German Mathematician and astronomer, Carl Friedrich Gauss, which involved working through more than one challenging equation.
“I had transposed a cosign,” Greys said.
If only such a theory existed that would explain women.
* * *
“I thoughthe was only pretending to court you,” Collette pointed out in a sing-song voice, but then frowned.
Diana had sent Bethany’s maid away for the night and told her older sister everything because, well, that was what sisters did.
“Heispretending,” Diana insisted as she stared at the looking glass while her sister wove Diana’s long hair into a perfect braid. Collette’s fingers moved so swiftly, Diana could hardly make out each separate motion. “He didn’t seem all that happy with himself after…”
“I should think not.”
“It’s not as though he planned it.” Diana wasn’t sure why she was defending him. No one was forcing him to help her capture a gentleman’s notice for something other than being one of Baron Chaswick’s bastard sisters…
For some reason, Diana was reluctant to tell Collette about how he’d placed his hand on her leg at the dinner. He’d seemed to know she needed reassurance.
Not that she couldn’t have made it through the evening without that. But… she’d been grateful for his support—for histouch.
Diana leaped off the bench the second Collette tied the ribbon off.
Too restless to even think about sleep, she twirled in a circle and then, holding the post of her bed, swung from side to side, moving to a rhythm made up in her head, raising one of her legs high into the air and then lowering it, toes pointed.
Her sister, quite used to Diana’s propensity to dance around her chamber, dropped onto a chair, brought her feet up to the edge so she could hug her knees, and watched her thoughtfully. “A first kiss is a momentous occasion. Did you like it? The kiss itself?”
Diana froze and stared at her sister from her upside-down position.
“It was… delicious.” She pulled herself up and then dropped backward again. “I thought my heart was going to burst right out of my chest.”
“It’s doubtful anyone will ever kiss me after I’ve gone into teaching.” Collette exhaled a long sigh.
“Don’t be silly. It’s not as though you’ll stop meeting gentlemen just because you’re a teacher,” Diana scoffed. “You simply won’t have to endure theTonin order to meet them.” But what could she tell Collette about the kiss? Diana bent her knees and moved her hips as she attempted to break down all the parts of the kiss that had made up the experience.
Part of her wanted to tell Collette everything, but that moment—those spectacular seconds that Lord Greystone’s mouth explored hers—had been the most intimate seconds of her life. Certain details demanded protecting. Details such as his scent and taste, the tenderness with which his tongue had explored inside her mouth. Even more precious was the longing she’d seen just before he’d released her. It was as though he’d been fighting something inside himself.
Diana fingered her braid and recalled the strength in his hand when he’d clutched the back of her neck.
At the memory, a liquid heat pooled low in her belly—a wanting between her thighs. But Collette was watching her. Dear, sweet Collette, who didn’t think any gentleman was ever going to kiss her.
“He opened his mouth.” Diana finally said. “Our tongues touched.”
“I’ve heard of that sort of thing. It’s called a French kiss. I saw mother and father doing that once.” Collette made a disgusted face.
“That’s revolting.” Diana paused a moment to blink away the image her sister’s words summoned. She refused to compare her first kiss with anything her mother and father had done.
“Lord Greystone is very handsome.” Collette, thank heavens, changed the subject. “But I thought you preferred Captain Edgeworth.”
“I do prefer Captain Edgeworth!” Diana protested instinctively. She must prefer Captain Edgeworth because Lord Greystone was a marquess who would never consider her seriously. “And Lord Greystone told me nothing between us was real.” But it had been.
Hadn’t it?
