by Mary Balogh
Lord Kenwood smiled down at her. "The castle is in far better repair than I expected," he said.
"Yes," she agreed.
"I expected that I would be called upon to exclaim with admiration over a heap of a dozen mossy stones," he said.
"Did you?"
"Of course, the outer walls of castles were often far stronger than any other part of the structure. I suppose that inside it looks more the ruin that it is?"
"Yes."
"It is a shame that the moat does not still completely surround it."
"Yes."
''And I suppose that I will have to continue delivering these pearls of wisdom for the next half hour or so and expect monosyllables in reply."
"Y__"
"Or perhaps single letters in reply. What have I done to offend you, Diana? I mean specifically today. I have of course been the recipient of your displeasure since our arrival here. But I can understand that any well-bred lady might feel a certain vexation against the man who had unwittingly discovered that she was capable of being for less well-bred under certain, ah, very private circumstances. But what has happened today?"
"Nothing has happened today," she said. "You have not offended me."
"Were you annoyed that the ball Ernie so clumsily dropped out by the boundary was hit by me?" he asked. "But I presented him with the perfect chance for his moment of glory. He had no business dropping it, you know. I had not greased it."
"Gentlemen are foolish to take games so seriously," she said.
"I suppose we are," he agreed amiably. "But it is hard not to when there are so many lovely ladies looking on. I did not taunt Ernie when he could not find the ball in the bushes, if you remember. You are fond of old Ernie, are you not?"
"He is my brother-in-law," she said. "Teddy loved him."
"Ah, yes, Teddy;" he said. "Teddy was a fortunate man."
"Teddy is dead," she reminded him.
"Oh, quite so," he said. "But mere are doubtless many men, Diana, who would gladly die after four years with you rather than live a century without you."
"What utter nonsense," she said crossly.
"I, of course," he said, "am not a romantic. I would far prefer to have you and live for a century. So you will not tell me what I have done to offend you?"
"You have not offended me."
"Ah, spoken with an edge of marked irritation to your voice,'' he said. ''And we have arrived in view of the moat, I see. Or lake, rather. We will have to circumnavigate it so that we can see it in all its splendor, with the moonlight across it and the castle behind it. We must not disappoint the countess, must we, or waste such an undoubtedly romantic setting."
She did not reply. It was quite beneath her dignity to remind him that he had just said he was not a romantic. She lifted her chin and looked decidedly belligerent.
"Very impressive indeed," he said several minutes later, when they had picked their way around the lake and were standing almost against the dense trees of the forest behind them, looking across the water to the forbidding north wall of the castle, which rose sheer from it. The moon, directly above the wall, shed a solid band of silver almost to their feet.
Despite herself Diana was caught up in the glory of the scene. She had never seen it quite like this before. "It is beautiful," she said. "One can almost imagine a knight in full armor riding up to the drawbridge. There was a drawbridge once, before the causeway was built."
Lord Kenwood held her arm against his side, though he had felt her a minute before try to slide it way. "I wonder if knights brought their ladies out here on moonlit evenings," he said.
The glory was forgotten. "I am sure they did not." She was cross again. "They lived by a very strict code of chivalry."
"The code included a near worship of ladies," he said. ' 'But I have read that that worship often showed itself in the most physical of ways."
"I am sure you are mistaken, my lord," she said stiffly.
"Are you?" He spoke the words quietly, almost into her ear. "You think a woman's body cannot be worshiped? You think that as soon as matters between a man and a woman become physical, they also become ugly? I must beg to disagree with you. Most strongly."
He watched her swallow—a painful process—and look coolly from one end of the battlements to the other. Her arm was trembling with tension. He waited for her to master her feelings. He was in no hurry. No hurry at all. She looked more fragile and more lovely than ever in the moonlight. He felt that stirring of desire he had felt the first time he had touched her and she him.
She wanted desperately to break away and to run and run until she could find some air to breathe. He was looking steadily down at her, and she knew she could not look back. It was physically impossible to do so. But his arm was strong and warm against her own and against her shoulder. And there were the memories.
He was being deliberately provocative. He was trying to shock her. He was trying to seduce her. He was a rake, Ernest had said. And she would have known it even without being told.
''I think it hardly likely that any knight worthy of the name would have brought his lady out here for a clandestine meeting," she said. "You would cheapen an honorable code of behavior, my lord."
"Diana," he said, "you have been a married lady. Did the physical side of your marriage cheapen your relationship? You are hardly giving a complimentary picture of marriage, my dear. I think I have done well to steer clear of it thus far in my life."
Anger came to her rescue. She felt it rise in her, ready to explode. "You will not make a joke of my marriage, sir," she said. "You will not. I will defend Teddy's memory in any way I have to. And though it would be ridiculous to hit out at you because you could overpower me in a moment, I will do so, sir—I will do so if you say one more ugly thing about either him or our marriage."
He released her arm finally, but only in order to rest his hands lightly on her shoulders. "I am sorry," he said. "I am truly sorry, Diana. I have been teasing you. I meant no disrespect for Teddy, whom I remember as a sincere and gentle man. And I meant no disrespect for your marriage. I am sure you would be a loyal and affectionate wife to any man you chose to accept as a husband. Forgive me?'"
His hands closed on her shoulders as he watched her struggle with herself, her eyes on her hands, which she held palm-up before her. He had to force himself not to pull her into his arms to comfort her. Damn it, he had hurt her when he had meant only to tease. And he was uncomfortable with feelings of compassion.
"Yes," she said.
The Marquess of Kenwood wondered where he had lost control of this particular situation. He turned from her and stooped to pick up a smooth stone. He sent it bouncing across the silver band of water stretching before them. And she watched him, concentrating on drawing deep and steady breaths.
"The countess is trying her hardest to throw you and me together," he said. "I will not ask if you have noticed. A blind man would have noticed. Have you tried to persuade her not to?"
''There would be no point," she said. ''Once my mother-in-law has her mind set on something, a herd of wild elephants would not change her mind. She would merely shoo them away."
"Do you wish she had chosen someone else for you?" he asked.
"I do not need anyone to help me in such matters," she said. "If I wish to take another husband, I will find one to my own liking."
"Husband?" he said. He turned from his fascinating task of bouncing stones and looked at her again. "What about a lover? Why rush back into marriage?"
Her stomach lurched. "Oh," she said, her anger returning and playing havoc with her breathing again.''I suppose you would be quite willing to fill that role, my lord."
This was better. She was quite irresistible when she was indignant. He looked at her consideringly. "I must confess," he said, "that I have some very teasing memories. I just wish there were a few more of them, Diana. A few minutes more. Five. Perhaps ten. Yes, with you, almost certainly ten. They would have been sweet memories."
&nbs
p; He could hear her draw a sharp breath as he took one step closer and brushed one finger beneath her chin.
"Very sweet, Diana."
"That is the only importance women have to you, is it not?" she said. She did not flinch or pull back, as he half expected she would. She stood very still and looked very directly into his eyes.
"The Creator in his wisdom divided humanity into two genders so that they might make love,'' he said, smiling into her eyes. "And we so often return the compliment by pretending that it is not so or that it is unnatural or undesirable for it to be so. Yes, I like making love to Women, Diana. I would like to make love to you—all the way. Every delectable inch of the way. But this is not a suitable time or place, is it? This is merely a very romantic place. Suitable for no more than kissing."
She still would not step back, even though he had moved closer still. And she still would not lower her eyes from his. He wondered idly, as he set his hands on her shoulders again and traced her jawline with his thumbs, what she was about to do, what was going through her mind. Would she respond to his kiss? Would she imitate a marble statue? Or must he be on his guard against one or two flashing palms?
He did not know. One did not know with Diana Ingram. And therein lay fascination. She was a fascinating woman.
He still did not know the answer when his mouth was one inch from hers and when his eyes drifted upward from her lips to look into hers. And he still did not know if he would move that inch closer and discover his answer or retreat and say something quite commonplace.
He usually knew unerringly the surest path to seduction. He did not know with Diana Ingram.
And—oh, yes—therein lay endless fascination.
She was going to hit him. It did not matter that she would be unable to hurt him, that he could overpower her in a moment, do unspeakable things to her if he wished. She was going to smack him with all the power of her anger and her shame at feeling attracted to a rake, and her humiliation over the memories they shared.
She was going to hit him. But only when he kissed her. He hovered at the edge of a kiss, just as a few nights before he had hovered . . . But no matter. She would not hit him before he kissed her or he would make her feel foolish again by claiming that he had had no such intention.
Her heart was thumping right up into her throat. She could feel his body heat. She could smell him. And it was a teasing, familiar smell. Awareness tightened her breasts and sent a weakness spiraling down inside her.
Lord Kenwood smiled into Diana's eyes, closed his own, and traveled the inch.
"Yoohoo! Hey there. Yoohoo!"
Buglers in the fourteenth century must have sounded far more romantic. And far more in keeping with the moonlit splendor of the present appearance of the fortress.
"Ernie!" the Marquess of Kenwood said, opening his eyes and retreating a few inches. "Devil take it, where is he?"
But the words were merely something to say. One could not have missed him once one looked. He was up on the battlements in perfect dark silhouette against the moon. Ernie had never looked more romantic in his life. Or sounded more like an ass.
"Yoohoo!" he called again, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Diana! Jack!"
Diana felt as if she had been reprieved from execution with the noose already about her neck. "Ernest," she called, "whatever are you doing up there? It is dangerous to climb."
"I couldn't find you," he yelled. "I was worried about you. Mama and the others have started back."
"Well, do be careful," she called back. "We are quite safe, Ernest. We are on our way back around to the front now. We will meet you there."
"Get down from mere now, Ernie, my boy," the marquess said, his voice raised to a pitch scarcely above the ordinary. "You make a quite impressive knight in shining armor, but you would quite ruin the effect if you fell and broke your head."
"Oh, Lord," Lord Crensford said in a normal voice, which the two listeners nevertheless heard quite clearly. He had looked away behind him.
The next moment Angela Wickenham's head appeared over the battlements, and she waved down across the moat.
"Oh, Lord," Lord Crensford said again. "You shouldn't be up here, Miss Wickenham. It's not safe. I told you to go with Claudia."
"But what a splendid view," she said, leaning her arms on the top of the battlements and sending a shower of small stones down into the moat.
Lord Crensford yelled and grabbed for her arm. "Come down from here," he said. "Come down right now, you foolish, mad female. Good Lord."
''Perhaps I should fall into the moat,'' Angela said, peering downward. "I am sure you would dive in to save me, my lord."
"No, I certainly would not," Lord Crensford said before he disappeared from sight and sound behind the massive stone walls, one of Angela's arms in a firm clasp. "I can't swim."
8
"Take a firm grip of my hand," Lord Crensford ordered. "And don't let go of it."
"I came up here quite safely," Angela said. "I followed in your footsteps. And though there are loose stones all over the stairs and on the battlements here, I have good grip with these slippers." She raised her skirt a fraction to reveal a pair of dainty slippers and trim ankles.
"My hand," Lord Crensford said imperiously, blocking her way back to the staircase by which they had ascended. "Or you do not move another step."
"I was not going to refuse," she said, wrinkling her nose at him and placing one dainty little hand in his."I was merely trying to show you that you did not need to get so worried."
"I was not worried," he said bluntly. "I was angry. Am angry. I told you to go home with Claudia. You have no business being alone here with me."
"But I am not alone with you," she said, tripping along behind him, her hand in his firm grasp. "Lord Kenwood and Mrs. Ingram are down below. And your mama said it would be quite all right for me to stay and return with you.''
"Did she?" he said, fixing her with a gloomy eye before turning back to watch his footing on the top step of the stone staircase that spiraled downward through one of the circular bastions.
"Were they kissing?" she asked. "Oh, goodness me, it is very much darker going down than it was coming up, is it not? I am thankful after all for your hand, my lord. Were they kissing?"
"No, they certainly were not," Lord Crensford said severely. "Diana has a great deal more sense than to do that."
"But he is very handsome," she said.
"Wait there," his lordship commanded, releasing her hand and scrambling down the rubble that had replaced the bottom few steps. His feet safely on the grass, he reached up for her, set his hands at her waist, and swung her down to stand in front of him.
And received something of a shock. She had somewhat resembled a blade of grass in shape the first time he had met her. Jack had been quite right about that. However, she was not like a blade of grass any longer. He swallowed and removed his hands from her in some haste.
"And for as long as you are a guest at Rotherham Hall," he said, "that is the last time I want to see you.doing something you have been expressly forbidden to do. Is that clear?"
She sighed. ' 'I never could do anything right in your eyes, could I, my lord?" she said. "You always used to scold me. I thought perhaps now that I am eighteen you would treat me more like a lady."
"You have to act like a lady if you want to be treated like one," Lord Crensford said ungraciously, still flustered by his discovery of a tiny waist and a not so tiny bosom above it. "Now take my hand again and don't let go until we are safely across the causeway."
"Yes, my lord," she said with a sigh. "But cannot I take your arm instead? You are not my father, after all."
"You should be feeling thankful for that," Lord Crensford said, striding off to the arched gateway with her hand tucked in his arm. "You would probably have had something more painful than a scolding from me when we got to the bottom of those stairs."
She stared up at him and wrinkled her nose at his oblivious and indignant profile. "But
you went up the stairs," she said.
* * *
The marquess was shaking with laughter, which he did nothing to silence once he was alone with Diana again.
"Why on earth would Ernest take the risk of climbing up there?" she was saying beside him. "Even in daylight those stairs and battlements can be very dangerous."
"I think it was to save you from a fate worse than death, Diana," he said. "He doubtless thought I had you in the bushes ravishing you."
"Well," she said, "you must admit that you had something not too far distant from that on your mind."
