Diana narrowed her eyes slightly. “You are smiling.”
“So I am,” he said.
“And yet you are not looking at me whilst doing it,” she pouted.
Victor’s amusement faded instantly. Because she was right. His thoughts were nowhere near Diana. They were upstairs, in a bedroom at Mulford Manor, where Charlotte likely slept peacefully, unaware she had completely ruined him.
Good God.
Victor stared ahead blankly for one dreadful moment as realization settled fully upon him.
I do not want Diana.
Or any of the other women who had drifted pleasantly through his life over the years without consequence.
Do I want Charlotte?
Victor actually felt alarm spread through him. Surely this was madness. Charlotte was argumentative, stubborn, prudish, impossible to control, and entirely unlike every woman he had ever preferred before. She challenged him constantly, looked at him with outrage more often than admiration, and somehow made him feel things he spent years carefully avoiding.
Morgan returned at precisely that moment, carrying another drink. “Why do you look as though you have seen death itself? Look at the beauty upon your lap.”
Victor stood abruptly, lifting Diana effortlessly from his lap onto her feet beside him.
Diana blinked in surprise. “How ungallant.”
Victor ran one hand through his dark hair impatiently. “Morgan. We are leaving.”
Morgan stared between them curiously. “Already?”
“Yes,” he said.
“You were here scarcely two hours,” Morgan said.
“I have suddenly lost all interest, but stay if you wish,” Victor said.
Diana folded her arms. “Your friend is behaving oddly.”
“He often behaves oddly,” Morgan assured her cheerfully.
Victor threw him a flat look. “Are you coming or not?”
Morgan sighed theatrically before bowing toward Diana with exaggerated elegance. “My deepest apologies, Miss Reed. It appears the duke is suffering some mysterious male affliction.”
Diana laughed softly. “Perhaps he has finally fallen for someone.”
Victor nearly glared holes through the night itself. Morgan, unfortunately, looked even more delighted.
“Oh,” he breathed. “That was a very dangerous expression.”
Victor turned sharply toward the exit. “Goodnight, Diana.”
She watched him carefully as he departed. “Goodnight, Your Grace.”
Morgan hurried after him through the glowing gardens, trying, and failing, not to grin. “You are alarmingly tense.”
Victor ignored him.
“Victor.”
