“Well,” she tittered. “Mr. Dillinger and his brother are hardly one of us.”
“His brother is married to a duke’s daughter, Lady Bayswater, but even if he wasn’t, let me make something perfectly clear. Mr. Dillinger is a man I am now proud to call brother. His lack of title in no way suggests he is without honor or good character. He and his family I now call friends, and as such they are under my protection.”
Her mouth fell open. Beside her, her daughters looked horrified.
“As they are under the protection of your host today, my lady. I would suggest you not speak again in such an insulting manner, or you will find yourself with some powerful enemies. Namely a duke and an earl!” He’d not mean to roar the last word, but it had come out that way.
He didn’t excuse himself, just stormed away, furious.
“Damn it to hell,” he muttered, heading in Dimity’s direction. He noted the exact moment she saw him, because she shook her head at him. Did she really think that would stop him from reaching her?
“I give up,” Gabe said to himself. He headed to her side, as if in some silent way she’d lured him… like a bloody temptress.
“Duchess.” He bowed to the elderly woman who wore the most hideous shade of pink he’d had the bad luck to ever see. “Miss Brown, Mr. Diard.”
“My portrait is coming along well, Raine. You need to visit again to see it. Then you can read for me.”
“Of course. I live to serve you, Duchess. Congratulations, Diard, on working miracles and making her look anything but sour. One hopes she is not in that particular dress.”
The duchess cackled. Dimity giggled. Diard looked horrified.
“I assure you the likeness will be exact, and every bit as beautiful as the Duchess of Yardly, Lord Raine.”
“It seems you left your monocle in France, Diard,” Gabe continued, enjoying seeing the laughter in Dimity’s eyes.
The duchess stomped on his boot with her cane, still cackling. “I like you, Raine. Now you and Dimity fetch us refreshments. I want a glass of champagne and some candied fruit. Leave us while I discuss the background of my painting with Mr. Diard.”
“Your wish is our command.” Gabe bowed, then led Dimity away, very happy with the turn of events.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dimity had no wish to spend time in the earl’s company and said as much when they were alone.
“I am here as a companion to the duchess, Lord Raine. Please excuse me while I do my job.” She pulled her arm free of his grip.
“You are a very tiring woman, Miss Brown. I never know which woman I am getting when I meet you. The cool, scrupulously polite companion. The mouthy, opinionated shrew, or my particular favorite, the siren.”
“Lord Raine!” She looked around her, horrified. “You cannot speak that way.”
“I just did. Now please walk with me, Dimity. I promise not to kiss you.”
“Stop it,” she hissed at him. “I am a companion, you are an earl,” she pointed out in case he’d forgotten. “People are looking at us.”
“As if you would ever let me forget that.”
His jacket was deep blue today, and his waistcoat dark gray. No one wore clothes quite like this man. Her traitorous heart sighed.
“Why are you behaving this way? Is it because I will not be your mistress? Are you punishing me?”
He turned his head, their eyes connected, and she felt heat spike through her.
“I retract that offer,” he said softly. “My plans have changed.”
He didn’t want her as his mistress anymore. The thought should elate her but did the opposite. Her spirits sank; such was her fickle nature.
Had he had met another woman? A mistress or wife he could find passion, and, yes, love with?
“Do my words not please you, Dimity? You’re frowning.”
