She tilted her head, her eyes steady on him. “I would like to go to the masquerade ball at Lord Linny’s next week. It promises to be the crush of the Season, and I have already commissioned a costume for it.”
He smiled. “Something daring and provocative, no doubt.”
“I am going as Diana.”
“The Roman goddess of the hunt?” His eyes traveled over her form with great interest. “A most inspired choice, given your height and coloring. And incomparable beauty.”
Meredith lowered her chin modestly at the compliment. “It was actually the duke’s idea. With my father’s great passion for all things concerning ancient Greece and Rome, it seemed an amusing notion.”
“I know you will look enchanting.”
Pleasure filtered through her. All of her adult life she had been showered with florid, expressive, and occasionally outrageous compliments on her looks. Yet only Trevor’s regard had the power to move her. “I only hope I can wear my Roman gown. The blue silk fabric is fashioned to be held over one shoulder with a gold brooch, leaving the other bare. It will expose a great deal of my neck and throat.”
Trevor’s eyes darkened. “Are you badly bruised?”
Meredith’s hand lifted unconsciously to her throat. “These type of bruises always look worse the following day, when they turn all sorts of nasty colors. There is very little pain, so I know they cannot be too serious.”
“I will send for a physician at once,” Trevor decided, rising to his feet. “He can be here within the hour.”
“No, please. There is no need,” Meredith protested. “I had Rose bring me a salve that I used when I finished my bath. After anointing the bruises, I felt much better.”
“I am concerned about your health.”
“All that is required for my complete recovery is a little rest and time. A physician cannot make the marks fade any faster. Truth be told, he might prescribe a treatment that will make it worse.”
Trevor hesitated, and she pressed home her final point. “If the bruises are still evident next week, I will forgo the ball and consent to be examined by a physician. Does that satisfy you?”
The marquess seemed to realize that was the best he was going to get. “I suppose it must. Yet after hearing its description, I confess I shall be very disappointed if I do not see you wearing your costume.”
Meredith smiled suggestively. “I will gladly give you a private showing, my lord. Complete with the crown of laurel upon my head and a pair of sandals on my feet, which are undisputedly the most comfortable things I have ever worn. There is even a small split on one side at the bottom of the dress to allow a glimpse of them.”
His expression turned fierce. “Only a glimpse, I trust?”
“Yes, but if I move a certain way, the gown affords a peek at my ankles.”
“Hmmm, ankles, too? I shall have to keep a very close eye on you, madame.” His eyes took on a teasing manner. “Pity there won’t be time for me to have a matching toga made. That would be sure to cause a sensation.”
“For the right price, I am certain we can find an industrious tailor willing to try.”
Trevor blanched noticeably. “Meredith, please, I was joking about the toga.”
She smiled impishly. “I know. But you must promise to make some concession to the occasion.”
“I shall wear a black domino with my formal evening attire and follow you about the ballroom like a willing, protective slave.”
“What a delicious notion.”
“I had an inkling you might enjoy the idea,” he said in a wry tone.
A provocative taunt about slaves knowing their proper place rose to Meredith’s lips, but after noting the set of Trevor’s jaw, she wisely kept it to herself.
There were duties to perform, chores that must be completed, responsibilities of his position that demanded his attention, but the lure of his treasure was like a siren’s song, enticing and impossible to resist. Ever alert to the possibility, he slipped away the moment the opportunity presented itself, stealing up to his room for an irresistible moment of privacy.
His breathing grew rapid and shallow as he carefully extracted his prize from the most clever hiding place, a drawer that boasted a false bottom. Late last night he had wrapped the prize neatly in a clean white linen handkerchief to preserve its essence, and now his fingers trembled as he unwound that cloth.
For several minutes, he kept it clutched within the closed fist of his hand. Then he slowly opened his fingers, like a flower opening its petals, and revealed the treasure. Sparkling, glittering, winking up at him, the diamond that lay in the center of his palm had the power to mesmerize him.
He stared at it openmouthed fascination, trembling with excitement. It was a good size, square cut, perfectly shaped. He turned his hand and watched with glee as the many facets of those clean edges reflected the light that crept through the small window of his quarters with brilliant fire.
