“I am teasing you, My Dear, but really—it gets terribly boring seeing the same old people every weekend.”
Celine shrugged.
“All right. It is nice not to be the new girl any more though. As much as I loved all eyes being on me, it makes a nice change to blend in a little.”
“No,” Emmeline said, her rosy cheeks now a deep shade of red and her eyes downcast in uncertainty. “The eyes are on me instead. It’s easy for you both, you are beautiful enough to have been turning heads for years. For me, this level of attention is something new.”
“Nonsense, Lady Emmeline,” Diana replied. “You are perfectly beautiful as you are. Why don’t you use your charms to find some handsome lords to fill in your dance card? There are plenty here.”
“Yes,” Celine said with a decisive nod. “Come with me. We shall both fill our cards with dancing partners, and dance until our feet drop off.” Emmeline looked startled and Celine laughed. “Not really, of course.”
“Of course,” Emmeline said, but she still did not look convinced.
Diana watched them weave their way through the crowd, and in that moment she felt enormously proud of her sister. She was a good and kind soul, and Diana prayed fervently that Lord Percival Templeton did not hurt her or let her down.
Speaking of which—
She scanned the room, telling herself she was not looking for Isaac in particular. Yet when she didn’t see him, her shoulders sagged with disappointment, and her dainty steps turned almost into stomps as she made her way to the gardens. She would sit awhile and dream of love, whether it be with him or someone else, and hope that he made an appearance soon.
There were already many people on the terrace, making good use of the mild summer evening. Glasses of wine were handed around without shame, drunk quickly and quickly replaced. The chatter and the laughter rang through the night air, and it seemed that every face there was smiling.
Diana felt a jolt of excitement when she saw how many were outside.
Perhaps he is here.
She scanned the terrace, her face eager and hopeful, her eyes darting quickly back and forth. But once she realized he wasn’t to be found, she turned and wandered discontentedly into the garden proper. The path here was narrow but lined with little flowers that that seemed to look up at Diana with a smile.
In the distance, she saw a woods, filled with old and gnarled oak trees, and between there were sporadic flowerbeds filled with every flower she could think of. It seemed such a happy place, almost a fairy-tale place, and it fit with Diana’s narrative of life.
She stopped when she found a bench that was far enough away from the house not to be noticed.
Perhaps he will find me here, as he found me at the last ball.
And although she hoped with all her heart, she was terrified, too. She was scared he had lost interest already, that it had all been some sort of trick. She feared he would return and realize she was not the sweet and perfect being he had thought her to be, that he would change his mind. She was worried it would all go wrong.
She sighed and reached for the book in her bag. She had long learned never to attend one of these events without one. She sat down, and then she opened the book where the ribbon held her place.
Except, as she read, she found herself not taking any of it in. She read the same paragraph over and over, each time telling herself to focus, to forget things that could have been and remember where she was, what she was doing. And when, for the fifth time, she reached the end without knowing what had happened, she slammed the book closed resentfully.
I have been nothing but a dolt.
She felt such a fool for believing his honeyed words, for trusting in the sweet taste of his lips. She had almost convinced herself she was falling for him, and then he proved himself to be just another one of the ton—someone who did not care for the feelings of others, only for what they could gain. He wanted only her soft caresses, nothing more. She thought him better than that. She was wrong.
She slipped the book back into her bag then stood up to leave. She knew Celine would not be happy, but she would beg her sister to let them go home. Diana didn’t want to spend another second there, waiting for a hero who did not come.
“Diana, you’re here. I have been searching for you all evening.”
Diana’s heart began to flutter against her chest and her head shot up in nervous excitement. It was the Duke of Gallonon. He hadn’t let her down after all.
Chapter 16
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she said, getting up from her seat and greeting him with a shy smile.
“Isaac, please, we do not need to go back to formalities simply because we haven’t seen each other for a week. Shall we take a seat?”
“Yes, Isaac.”
She looked up at him from under her lashes and he felt something bloom inside him. Love, perhaps? But no, it couldn’t be love. He shook that thought away. He wouldn’t allow it to be love. It was pleasure at the success of their plan.
Isn’t it?
Whatever it was, though, it was a feeling he had not experienced before and one that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt since before his father had died. It was a something he didn’t want to end.
“I was worried when I couldn’t find you, thinking that perhaps you had decided not to come,” he said, talking rapidly. “But then I bumped into your Sister—”
“Bumped into her? Did you almost knock her to the floor as you did me last week?”
Isaac paused for a moment, unsure what to say, but her eyes shone with the tease and he chuckled. He deserved that. He tugged on his light-weight tailcoat, pale linen for the summer. He knew the ensemble made him look bright and fresh.
“No,” he said, moving to sit next to her with a wry smile. “I managed to avoid hitting her, although it was close. You know how blind I can be,” he laughed. “But I did say good evening. She looks happy.”
“Yes,” Diana said. “She thinks she is in love, but the gentleman with whom she is smitten is one she only met at her coming out last week. My Sister is ever a romantic.” She looked down at her lap and muttered, “Perhaps she is not the only one.”
Isaac cocked his head, unsure he had heard the last of her words quite correctly, perhaps it was only his hope that made him hear what he wanted to hear. And so he answered her as though she had not said it.
“And you think you cannot know of love so soon? Surely it only needs to take one meeting.” Isaac’s heart pounded in his chest, thinking not so much of Lady Celine as of Diana herself. Despite what he told himself, he believed with every ounce of himself that love could grow from a single meeting. At first sight, even.
For has it not already?
No. He mustn’t think like that. This friendship was not to be about love. It was about avenging his father, about making everything right.
Diana looked shyly at him, unsure what to say. He could see the worry in her eyes—that she had said the wrong thing, that she had offended him—but he simply smiled at her.
“I think perhaps there can be the beginnings of love after just one evening, don’t you?” Isaac said, keen to hear her words on the matter. As much as he tried to ignore his feelings, they shone through all the same, and he could not deny that, for him, love had already begun.
“Yes,” she replied, a coy smile playing on her lips. “And I suppose it’s very different when you are feeling it, as opposed to simply being told it.”
He gazed at her, then, with such passion and desire that he felt the heat rise within him, the tingle over his body. He felt suddenly aware of every part of him, every feeling he had ever had. He forgot everything he was supposed to do, everything he was supposed to think, his rational thought overridden by his true, emotional self.
He wanted to reach out and touch her, to let his lips brush against hers so soft and tender. He craved feeling her hands rove over his body, searching him, while he kissed her cheek, her neck, her chest.
He
cleared his throat, pushing away the lustful images. More than any of that, he wanted to talk to her, to sit and be with her.
“I suppose you are right,” he said, his voice squeaky with hunger. He changed the subject. “I presumed, when I saw Lady Celine, that you would be here somewhere, but it still took me quite a while to find you. Do you always make a habit of hiding in the gardens?”
She looked embarrassed, her cheeks flushing pink, and it was this that lit up her beautiful face, made him almost gasp with the sight of it. The dusting of pink was bright with life against her porcelain skin.
“Yes,” she said. “I’m afraid I rather do. I tire so easily of these things. There is so much falseness and far too much arrogance and conceit. It is not a popular opinion, but I would much rather sit here with a book.”
“That I understand,” he said. “I sometimes feel as though I am alone in a room full of bores. I have avoided balls where I can, for I find them terribly dull. Until I met you, of course. Now, I have a completely new—and truly wonderful—incentive to attend.”
She was, to him, a glass of brandy after a hard day’s work. She was a breath of freshness that fanned the flames of desire within him. She was the one who would make his life worth living again, the one who would take the hatred and hardness away and replace it with light and love and laughter.
He shook his head of the dream. It could never happen, not when he knew he would ultimately break her heart.
“Of course,” Diana agreed, “things changed for me, when I met you, too.” She looked away, a smile playing on her lips. He had flattered her, he could tell. He liked that, that he had been the cause of her delight. He wanted to see that expression over and over, if he could. He never wanted to stop flattering her.
Isaac had a flash of memory then, of his father writhing on the floor, then of Thomas and how broken he became. He thought of the revenge they sought, those they would punish, and he closed his eyes, ashamed he had let his own wants and needs take center stage. He knew he could not let his own desires overpower his need for revenge.
Isaac sighed, realizing how torn he was between Lady Diana and his brother’s need for revenge. That she had so successfully and so quickly found a way to his heart was astonishing, but he knew he couldn’t allow it. He sat up a little more rigid, thoughts of the plan swirling around his mind, and he felt himself, almost without intention, sitting further back on the bench, creating a void between them.
I must not let myself fall too deeply. Only enough to convince her.
He saw Diana stiffen, too. She had noticed his sudden change in his demeanor, and she looked at him with concern in her eyes, wary like prey watching her hunter. Part of him wanted to reach over, comfort her, tell her he was wrong, that he did love her after all and the plan could go to hell. But she knew nothing of his feelings, and he couldn’t allow himself to feel all those things he felt, not when he would ultimately hurt her. As Thomas often reminded him, there are more important things than love.
But is there?
“It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?” she asked, the formality in her tone having returned. She smiled, but it was not a true smile. It was a careful one. Cautious and aware.
“It is,” he replied, still stiff, still awkward, still unable to let himself go, despite the thoughts that ran through his head.
And you are a beautiful lady on this beautiful evening.
He creased his brow, annoyed at his own mind and his inability to stop the thoughts from coming. He needed to focus and yet all he could see was light and happiness in front of him.
How can I make this stop?
“Have you had a productive week?” she asked after a pause, and he could see she was scrabbling around for some neutral topic of conversation. He liked that, that she could read his discomfort and changed her manner appropriately. That showed intelligence and rapport, and he wanted to tell her how much he liked it.
“It has been…acceptable,” he said. And as he looked into her eyes, he fell all over again. His stiffness vanished, his reasoning disappeared, and he slipped again into the Isaac who loved rather than the Isaac who plotted.
Forget the plan. At least for now.
Her fiery-red curls framed her face and her icy-blue eyes pierced his soul. He wanted to brush a hand against her porcelain skin, her rosy cheeks, and he wanted to kiss those plump red lips. He couldn’t control himself; he couldn’t think straight. He knew, without Thomas present, and with Diana—perfect Diana—he had no way of keeping their plan in mind.
His breath quickened, his chest rising and falling as he watched her watching him. He knew what was going to happen next and he suspected she knew it, too, for they both moved forward, slowly, so slowly. There was no stopping, no thinking about it, no reason or consideration. Just action and passion. Their bodies moved entirely of their own volition.
He could smell her scent; he breathed her in. And still closer he got, deliberate and gradual, building the anticipation that made his heart race with want and yearning.
And finally, his lips were upon hers and it felt as though a fire had been lit beneath him. He rose from his seat—just a tiny bit—to be closer to her, to push his lips more firmly against hers, and she responded by doing the same. Claiming each other. She returned his kiss so passionately, and he put a hand to her cheek, wound his fingers through her curls. He wanted her. He wanted every part of her.
When they eventually pulled themselves apart, they fell back onto the bench, gasping with desire and laughter.
“That was—” she began, wiping at her lips with a finger and opening her eyes wide.
“Unexpected?” he said and chortled.
“Yes,” she said, “but most definitely not unwanted.”
Isaac grinned, unable to do anything else. He felt as though he floated above the world, his heart filled with love and his soul light as a feather.
She wants me as much as I want her.
How perfect it was, because she felt the same as he, and having love returned is the greatest feeling.
But it was perfect, too, because the plan was working.
Isaac felt a flash of guilt then, remembering the plan and what he had to do to this beautiful, funny, intelligent lady he had found hiding in the gardens. He would do anything to stop her from being hurt and yet, it was he who would hurt her in the end. Something broke inside him, and he wanted to double over, to cry out, to beg it not to be.
How can I stop this?
“Are you all right?” she asked, looking at him concerned, and he realized that in his expression, he shared all his woe, all his pain.
“Yes,” he said, shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts. Now was not the time to have doubts. “I am quite all right, but, Diana—” he trailed off, not sure how to express what he wanted to say…or even if he wanted to say it.
“Yes?” she asked softly, lowering her head to catch sight of his downcast eyes. He looked back at her, raising his head, and felt the explosion of passion inside him again.
“I think you’re wonderful.” His jaw moved as though to say more, but the nerves and the guilt and the desire that ran through him swallowed his words.
She simply beamed, a smile so wide and bright that Isaac couldn’t help but smile in return.
“Really?” she asked, her words a whisper of all she felt, and he nodded.
“Yes, really. You make me feel like I have never felt before. I do not claim to understand it, but I certainly embrace it. Diana, I cannot stop thinking about you, dreaming about you. I can’t stay away from you.”
“I—” she faltered, looked away, and his heart sank in the fear that she believed him nothing more than a deluded fool.
“It matters not,” he said quickly. “Please excuse me if I have spoken out of turn. It is not often I reveal myself and perhaps I have incorrectly read the signs.”
“No, Isaac, please.” She reached over and touched his arm. He looked down at her hand, surprised but elated, such
a casual touch but one that had so much meaning.
“I—”
“Isaac, you have not incorrectly read the signs. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have read of love so often in my books, but never have I felt it. Until now. I…perhaps that is to speak too soon, I do not know. But I do know that I, too, can’t stay away from you. When I thought you weren’t coming this evening, I was heartbroken. I wanted only to see you.”
“Then I can kiss you again?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.
“I would be saddened if you did not,” she said.
He closed his eyes and moved forward, his smiling lips finding hers quite by themselves, as though they were meant to be, and this time the kiss was not filled with desperate passion, but with truth and honesty and friendship. It was a kiss of love, of happiness and understanding, of gentle caresses.
Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 14
