“I’d rather not hear it.” He opened the door and, checking no one was about, hurried out, shutting it quietly behind him.
Striding to his allotted chamber, he removed the cheroot from his pocket and clamped it between his teeth. Never mind the spies. Would he survive Lady Diana?
Chapter Seven
Diana readied herselffor bed, washing her hands and face to calm herself. She took off her slippers, taking her time, her heart still beating too fast. How Ballantine had looked at her. As if he’d wanted to see her naked. She rubbed the goose flesh on her bare arms. She had never seen such raw desire in a man’s eyes before. Had he intended her to feel him hard against her when he’d pulled her close? She had warmed all over and her nipples had peaked. And she’d sighed when he’d drawn away, his musky scent lingering.
With a delicious shiver, she climbed into bed. Snuggling down, she ran her tongue over her top lip and indulged in what might have happened had he stayed. But it was beyond her limited experience to imagine it. She hadn’t found it difficult to understand the gentlemen with whom she’d danced. Some had made no secret of their desire for her, while the older gentlemen had often been more avuncular. But it was difficult to penetrate the wall Ballantine had built around himself. Something tragic must have occurred in his past for him to involve himself with dangerous people. And it seemed clear to her that he did, in some capacity. The idea stirred her tender heart, even though she didn’t know if it was true. Most gentlemen spent their time overseeing their estates, hunting game, attending Parliament, dancing at balls, and dining at their clubs. They married to fill their nurseries in the hopes of an heir and a spare. She doubted many undertook such work.
What a ninny she was to think she could manage even a brief liaison with Ballantine. It would consume her. And when he was done with her, because he had said emphatically he had no intention of marrying for years, he would leave her bereft and unable to appreciate any other man. It was a warning, and she should heed it.
Diana poked her pillow into a better shape and rested her head on it, staring at the circle of candlelight on the ornate ceiling. Despite her fears, she remembered how she’d felt with his arms around her. His powerful musculature, the lingering smells of smoke, brandy, and a fresh, citrusy cologne. How her head had fit just below his chin. And how he had made her feel.Safe?Had she ever really felt safe? Certainly not in the weeks following Anne’s disappearance. Absurd when her father employed so many servants.
Whatever the reason, Diana wanted to know more about Ballantine. To be closer. To have him look at her that way again. For him to kiss her. Was she being bold or just foolish? Well, he had resisted temptation, even after they’d kissed. There might not be another chance. The thought made her feel strangely empty.
She snuffed out the candle and lay back in the dark. At least he might have listened to her plan. Ballantine was such a frustrating man. He would be aware he was in danger. Why refuse her offer of help when she was willing to perform even some insignificant but important task to aid him? Diana wished she hadn’t hindered him though. He might have learned something from Lord Montgomery.
She admitted that while her initial intention had been to talk him into helping her to find Anne, now it was her fear of him dying that drove her to keep pressing him. She couldn’t stand back and not save Ballantine if there were something she might do to prevent it. If anything happened to him, she wouldn’tbe able to bear it. Diana gasped. Was she falling in love with him? That way led to heartbreak. It was unlikely that the man her father chose for her would break her heart. Or distract her from her own pursuits. But judging by her father’s choices in suitors, what a dreary existence it would be. She sighed. Such a passionless life, and all the more reason to find a lover before she married.
She devised a plan she considered to be ingenious, convinced she should carry it out, undaunted by any objections Ballantine might throw at her. Tomorrow, while Papa was in a mood to listen to her, she would ask him about Lord Montgomery. Was he married? If he was single, her father might see the merit in such a marriage, and if so, encourage them to spend time together. If Lord Montgomery was willing, she would often be in his company. She might learn something important. And if she could distract him, it would free Ballantine to search for information vital to his cause. Whatever that cause was. If only she knew more about it. But Ballantine was a spy, she was certain. Could Lord Montgomery be a spy too? What if he worked for the French? It made her tremble to think it. She’d heard of such things.
Diana slept fitfully and in the morning had to resort to a little rouge to brighten her pale cheeks. Tims worked her skill with Diana’s thick hair. Dressed in her lilac morning gown, Diana went to knock on Grandmama’s door.
They went down to breakfast, passing a middle-aged gentleman in the hall. He greeted them with a stiff bow.
“That was the Earl of Cumbria,” Grandmama whispered.
Diana turned swiftly to view his thin, angular frame disappear around a corner. She was horrified at how grumpy and old he appeared. Surely, her father wouldn’t consider him?
They entered the smaller breakfast room, which smelled of hot food. A dozen seated guests expressed their interest in thismorning’s talk. A famous archeologist was to speak about the ancient marble sculptures brought recently from Greece by Lord Elgin, now in a private collection.
As they drank their tea and ate buttered toast, her father came to join them. Papa seemed in a good mood today, smiling and addressing the other guests. He ordered coffee, ham, and eggs from the footman.
As coffee was placed before him, he glanced at her. “Are you feeling better, Diana?”
“Yes, I’m well, Papa.”
“After breakfast, there is someone I wish you to meet.”
Diana’s throat tightened, and she took a hasty sip of tea. “Oh? Who is it?” She gazed around, hoping Ballantine had come in. He hadn’t.
“Lowther, Earl of Cumbria. I’ve arranged for us to meet him in the salon at ten.”
Diana cringed inwardly. She leaned forward to appeal to him in a soft voice. “Papa, I believe you know Viscount Montgomery. I met him on the garden path yesterday, and he introduced himself to me.”
Her father’s breakfast arrived. He sliced into the ham and forked up some egg, gazing at her, his blue eyes alert. “Montgomery? Yes, I know him. Not well, however. Why do you ask, Diana?”
After a quick glance at her grandmother, who stared at her with suspicion, Diana hurried on. “I wondered if he was married.”
“Mm,” said Papa. “He’s a widower. Merely a viscount. I wish for better for you. Now Cumbria…”
“Lord Montgomery is very handsome, and a good deal younger,” Diana said. “Did you find him presentable?”
Grandmama sniffed. “Handsome is as handsome does.”
“I thought he had elegant manners,” she said, ignoring Grandmama, who made her presence felt with just a few words.
Papa seemed pleased that she showed some interest in choosing a husband. This deception was necessary, she assured herself guiltily.
