Those globes were as perfect as they’d been in Vauxhall when he’d finally been given the opportunity to caress and kiss them.
He spread his legs so that she might step closer to view his injury when in truth, he simply wanted her closer to him.
Given how she had treated him these past few days, James was surprised with the care Diana now displayed, not that he’d argue. He would gladly be injured several times over if that was what it took to bring her near.
“I’ve got warm water, soap, ointments and bandages, Miss Vail,” a maid announced as she entered, carrying a tray of items.
“Thank you. Please put them on the table.
The maid did as instructed. “Would you need anything else?”
“No, you may go. Thank you.”
Diana took the handkerchief away, then wet a cloth before pressing it against his face. “The bleeding does seem to have finally let up.”
“Yes, but will I have a scar?”
Diana snorted. “Do you fear your face being ruined and that misses might run from you instead of pursue?”
“On the contrary. A well-placed scar adds mystery, especially to an already devilishly handsome face.”
Diana shook her head and gave him a doleful look. “I fear that there will be little permanent proof of the horror you experienced today, Lord Somerton. But, if it is a scar you wish, I can certainly grant you that favor.”
“And take great enjoyment in doing so I suppose.”
A smile pulled at her lips. “Perhaps a month ago I would have taken great pleasure in scratching your eyes out, but I’ve recovered.”
Yet, she hadn’t forgiven, even though he’d done no wrong.
“Don’t let your pride stand in the way,” Lady Isolda whispered in his ear as if she could read his mind.
Diana dabbed at his face, along the cut, and then his cheek and he assumed she was washing away the blood.
“I don’t believe you need a bandage. The bleeding has stopped.”
“Thank goodness because I’d look quite ridiculous.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed. “But the misses would flock to you like bees to honey with concern as to what happened.”
James placed his hand over hers to stop her ministrations and looked up. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Mention misses flocking to me as if I’d want such.”
A slight blush spread across her cheeks. “Isn’t that what all bachelors wish? To have misses and ladies falling for them, swooning when necessary, and caring for them when injured.”
“I don’t know about other bachelors, but I certainly do not.” He squeezed her hand. “There is only one miss that I wish would care for me.”
Diana glanced away but not before he noted the pain once again in her emerald eyes.
He’d caused that pain, unintentionally, and he needed to make it right. It no longer mattered that he may suffer, but she needed to know the truth.
Diana moved away. “You should wash your hand, Lord Somerton, to remove the blood.”
He’d not realized that there was blood on his fingers.
Diana damped another cloth and handed it to him.
