Too Many Matchmakers

by Allison Lane

  Nicholas bit back a growl. Langley would have to wait. No one would walk off with Diana before he’d gotten her out of his system.

  * * * *

  Diana nearly groaned when Nicholas appeared in the stables. She had hardly slept – all his fault – and had hoped a brisk ride might blow away the cobwebs.

  He had sought her out more than once the previous evening – before dinner, after dinner, in the music room, where she had joined several singers in an attempt to escape his attentions. Since he had never enjoyed music, his presence there could only have been deliberate. He was pursuing her with relentless determination. The question was why.

  Yesterday had confirmed that he wanted her body. Did he also want her fortune? He was ready to set up his nursery. The only people he had sought out were her and Lady Sophia – the two wealthiest unwed ladies at the house party. But his purpose was irrelevant. She would not allow his charm to seduce her again.

  She was no longer a naïve child who accepted a rake’s words at face value, especially one who had no heart of his own and wanted no one else’s. He would not fool her a second time. Since her arrival in London, more than one gentleman had developed a virulent case of calf-love after considering her inheritance. Others had hoped to console the young widow. Nicholas would fare no better than his predecessors.

  Maybe it was time to let the world know how Harry had really left things. She had gotten only one-third of his fortune. Humphrey didn’t know that the rest had gone to his own son, Jeremy, for Harry hadn’t wanted Humphrey to run up vast debts that Jeremy would ultimately have to pay. Neither of them had inherited outright. Hers was in a trust, with her as both sole trustee and beneficiary. She could pass that position to an heir, but a husband would have no control of her fortune. The fact that Bounty had left control to a woman angered Humphrey even more than losing the wealth. Jeremy’s portion was in a second trust, guaranteeing that the lad’s death would add nothing to the Bounty coffers. He continued living off the proceeds of a small inheritance he’d gotten from a maternal aunt, for he didn’t trust Humphrey, either. The least hint that he would ultimately control much of Harry’s fortune would prove disastrous.

  But that was beside the point, though it reminded her that she could not reveal the truth, even to fend off fortune hunters. She feared Nicholas even more since last night. He exuded a virility that raised responses in her body. Avoiding him in company would be impossible, but she must guard against ever being alone with him.

  Using a block, she mounted her horse before he could help her, then galloped away.

  * * * *

  Nicholas watched Diana leave, impatient because his own horse was not ready. If he knew her – and he did – she would veer off her present course the moment she passed the first line of trees. Probably to the right.

  He bit his lip as he mounted. She knew exactly how well he knew her. Setting his horse to a gallop, he headed left, suppressing a satisfied smile when he intercepted her half a mile away.

  “You were always an intrepid rider, but you’ve improved, my lady.”

  She glared. “If you remember anything, you should know that I prefer to ride alone.” She turned sharply aside.

  He followed. “What I recall is that you only prefer solitude when I am not the one accompanying you.”

  Her face burned. He could almost see the memories parading through her mind. Their rides had usually ended with warm embraces in secluded clearings. As the days passed, the rides grew shorter and the embraces longer. And warmer.

  “Tastes change,” she said shortly.

  “Sometimes,” he acknowledged.

  “Good day, Nicholas. I’m sure you can find your way back.”

  “Diana!” His hand shot out to grab her arm, preventing her from leaving. Both came to a standstill as they stared at each other. “We need to talk, but without the audience one always has in the house.”

  “Release me.” Her voice was icy.

  “Not until you agree to stay.”

  “Release my arm, or I’ll cry rape so fast you won’t know what hit you. You’ll be a pariah, Nicholas.”

  He let his lips curl into a smile. “No one would believe you.”

  “Not even when I describe that mole near your manhood?”

  He shook his head. “You’re not an innocent miss any more, Diana. No one expects you to forego the pleasures of bed. They would conclude that you were pursuing a lovers’ spat. It is you who would become the pariah – for exposing common practice to the light of day. Discretion is society’s watchword. Once you cease being discreet, others will avoid you for casting guilt on their own activities.”

  She blushed. “Just let me go. We really have nothing to say to each other. I am no longer an awestruck schoolgirl mooning over a London rake. You are no longer a bored libertine making do with a country chit.”

  “I’ve never forgotten you,” he admitted quietly.

  “More lies?” she said on a sigh. “You had no idea who I was until you actually faced me again.”

  “It’s true that I had not kept in touch with Gerald, so I did not know who you married. But I never forgot you, Diana. You were special, snaring me before I realized what was going on – you know that is true,” he added as she shook her head. “Why else would I have gotten so deeply involved with an undowered innocent when I had no means to support even myself?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Nicholas.” She pulled her arm free of his grasp, but made no attempt to leave. “That girl no longer exists. You cannot resurrect your own youth by looking for her.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “In part. Plus I inadvertently challenged you by making my disinterest clear.”

  “Disinterest? Do not take me for a flat. You want this as much as I do. But I can be as discreet as you wish. We can set up a meeting place removed from both our houses. Your reputation as a virtuous widow will remain intact.”

  In the early morning light, it almost seemed as if she’d paled. “Still the same despicable cad you were ten years ago,” she said softly.

  Her virulence slammed through his chest, robbing him of breath. “I must have explained bad—”

  “I don’t believe in secret lives and false reputations, my lord,” she continued, ignoring his protest. “Nor do I believe in dalliance.”

  “A nice speech, but your body doesn’t agree.”

  She laughed, scraping his nerves raw. “Unlike you, I am not a slave to my appetites. Don’t try to change my mind. Begging makes you look foolish. And nothing can twist so ignoble an offer into something remotely enticing.”

  “Diana—”

  “Nothing, my lord. I despise affairs and those who wage them. Nor will I ever wed again. Independence is too precious.”

  Casting him a look of pure loathing, she set heels to her horse and left.

  Damnation! He had hurt her far more than he’d thought. It was the only explanation. Why else would an intelligent, beautiful woman eschew all men – he finally had to admit that she was serious – if not to avoid further pain? He closed his eyes on another wave of guilt.

  At seventeen she had been an irresistible combination of innocence, beauty, and passion. He had been hooked before he even realized it. And the temptation had been impossible to ignore – at least until her vow of eternal love made him recoil. Only then did he remember his position and the grimness of his prospects.

  The thoughts that had flashed through his mind had been stark. He had nothing but his winnings. While they kept up his appearance in London, they would never support a wife, and the chances of inheriting his father’s small estate were remote. The man would likely lose it to his creditors. Thus the only way to assure his own future was to marry money. Diana didn’t have it. Her father was barely keeping his own head above water, and his heir had little more.

  Nicholas had panicked at the threat she posed to his plans. And in panic, he had lashed out, examining none of his words before uttering them. His sole
purpose had been salvaging control of his life and his future. Not until later did he realize how cruel he had been. And not until much later did he admit that he could have achieved his purpose without destroying Diana in the process.

  She still carried the scars. He could see them in her distrust, in her acceptance of an elderly husband who had been unlikely to hurt her, in her determination to avoid all male entanglements. He must heal the damage he had caused.

  You only want an excuse to bed her, whispered a voice in his head, but he shook it off. Yes he wanted to bed her. He couldn’t come near her without a physical response. She was even more delectable than she had been as a girl. But he had to slow down. First he had to win her trust. That would be even more difficult now that he’d made his intentions clear.

  Idiot! His brain ceased functioning near her. He had meant to start with an apology, clearing away the past before moving on to the future. Now he’d messed even that up. She was still furious over the past, had a new grievance in the present, and had rejected any dealings in the future. He’d never before had to dig himself out of a hole this deep.

  Where could he start?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Diana stopped in her tracks, turning to gaze intently at the portrait of some long-dead Harrison ancestor that hung in a dark corner of the hallway. She had been heading for the library, but Nicholas had reached it first.

  Their morning confrontation had been the most humiliating experience of her life. Not that he had been the first to offer her carte blanche. She’d turned down a dozen overtures in the last two years and deflected several others. But it hurt badly to receive one from a man she had once loved – a man who had never seen her as more than a temporary diversion, she reminded herself brutally. Not even her fortune tempted him into considering marriage. His assumptions belittled her youthful emotions, and taunted her because her body still responded to him.

  Damn him!

  But even as she railed against him, her conscience railed back. She also bore responsibility for the pain of that summer. She had been far too free with her favors. Given her conduct, any man would have assumed she was his for the asking. Her behavior had demanded no respect. His impressions had not changed in ten years.

  Nor would they. But he could think what he liked. She would hold her head high and behave like the principled lady she was. He was unimportant, of no more consequence than any other lord. So she would treat him no differently.

  She frowned. Unfortunately, he was not behaving like other lords. It should have been easy to avoid him in a place the size of Harrison Court, with its sprawling park and hundred-odd guests, but he was stalking her. No matter where she went, he was there. More than once she had turned tail and fled.

  No more. Her back stiffened. Such cowardice was unworthy of her and implied that he disturbed her. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

  Marching into the library, she headed for the shelves that held Harrison’s books on other countries.

  “Planning on leaving England?” drawled Nicholas when she selected one on North America.

  “Not at all. I’m merely checking something Lord Justin said just now.” She flipped pages. “As I thought. Purple coneflower is American, not Chinese.”

  “How did that question arise?” He looked startled.

  “We were discussing the treatment Dr. McClarren prescribed for his aunt. He was sure the herb was Chinese, but McClarren once mentioned it at one of my gatherings. Lady Broadbanks had originally brought it to his attention, having learned of it from an American brother-in-law.”

  “Raeburn?”

  She nodded.

  “I know the lad. He waxes so eloquently about the new world that I almost want to see it for myself.”

  She laughed. “Not I. While I enjoy reading about other places, I like my comforts too well to ever enjoy traveling.”

  “You did not used to be so bookish, Diana.” A smile tugged the corners of his mouth, sending shivers down her arms.

  She ignored them. “People change.” She moved to a shelf of novels – undoubtedly purchased by Harrison’s daughter-in-law – and picked up a copy of Peacock’s Headlong Hall.

  “People grow. They mature. They broaden their horizons. They don’t change.” He pulled her around to face him.

  “Release me.” She glared into his face, suppressing the tingles radiating from his fingers. “I am not one of your playthings, my lord.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Nor will I be,” she added, brushing his hands aside. “Surely I made myself clear enough this morning.”

  “Quite clear.” He clasped his hands behind his back, but his eyes never left her. She could read them easily enough – hot, feral, and greedy. He would bide his time, but eventually he would press her again.

  He stepped back a pace, easing the tension. “I never knew the extent of your education. Why?”

  She shrugged. “You were interested only in dalliance that summer, so the subject never arose. Besides, I had only a basic education, for we had few books at home. Harry was the one who expanded it, tapping a curiosity I hadn’t realized was there. My soirees continue the learning process.”

  “Why bother? Most women are incapable of understanding the world. You set yourself apart when you try.”

  She laughed. “You sound threatened. Most women are capable of mastering any lesson you set them. But they lack the training that would develop their abilities, and they lack the incentive to try. Look around you, my lord. Many women are well educated – Mrs. Baillie, Lady Hartleigh, and Lady Broadbanks, for example. And surely you met Madame de Stäel when she visited London. Other women run successful businesses, like modiste shops, employment agencies, and even inns.”

  “But those are from the working classes.”

  “Madame Celeste is the daughter of a French nobleman,” she reminded him.

  “But—”

  “Do you honestly believe that the aristocracy produces women of less ability than is commonly found among tradesmen and peasants? If that were true, then only marriage to a commoner would preserve your own intelligence and talents for future generations. Does one breed a fast stallion to a slow mare and expect their offspring to win races?”

  He choked. “If women are so intelligent, then why do I see no evidence of it?”

  “Perhaps you are afraid to look.” She sighed, but debating was a long-standing habit. Even her nervousness over Nicholas’s nearness could not dim the exhilaration of making a point. “When one is taught from birth that education is only suitable for males, that subjects beyond deportment and needlework are too complex, that one’s only purpose in life is to produce an heir, and that rational thinking destroys femininity, then it is difficult to believe otherwise. Questioning one’s assigned role courts censure, threatening the comfortable life that conformity promises.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you.”

  “But the credit goes to Harry. He needed debate the way most men need food and drink, but his closest friends had died. So he encouraged me to think.”

  “And did you no favor in the process. He turned you into a freak.”

  Pain stabbed her heart, but she thrust it down, shaking her head in exaggerated sadness. “Tsk, tsk. My point, I believe. Switching to personal attacks when your argument is bested is bad debate form.” She smiled at his glare. “I have many friends among the intelligentsia – of both genders. And an interest in politics and philosophy does not preclude enjoyment of more traditional activities. If gossip were a mindless pursuit that could be enjoyed only by the uneducated, then why do so many gentlemen indulge in it?”

  “Point to you. But sooner or later you will get lonely living by yourself, Diana. What then? A reputation for rebellion – or even eccentricity – is cold comfort in the dark reaches of the night.”

  “I wondered how long it would take to bring up your disreputable offer,” she said, all trace of affability gone. “The answer is still no. Some of us manage to feel good a
bout ourselves without having to prove our prowess on a new partner every day.”

  “You don’t know everything, Diana.” His eyes darkened with anger. “Most people wouldn’t twist genuine concern into sexual innuendo.”

  “Nice try,” she spat. “But wasted. You’ve been doing exactly that for years. Save the protests for someone more credulous. I know you too well.” Clutching her book, she strode from the library.

  * * * *

  Nicholas watched her go. Damnation! She didn’t believe a word he said. Lust did not preclude genuine caring. Despite her claims, she would eventually decide to remarry, but her choices would be limited to fortune hunters if she acquired a reputation as an outspoken advocate of changing the way society worked. Blurring the lines defining women’s roles would create chaos.

  She bested you. Your points lacked logic.

  He snorted, suppressing the ignominy of losing a debate – something that hadn’t happened in years. Bounty had done her an immense disservice by educating her like a man. It had been one thing to teach Nicholas how to debate, but forcing Diana to learn the technique was intolerable. He’d left her unmarriageable. No man would put up with her sharp-tongued impertinence.

  At least not in a wife. But that played into his hands. She would accept his proposition. It was only a matter of time, for her passion still simmered.

  He had removed his gloves when he’d returned from observing the games Lady Harrison had organized on the lawn. Without them, grasping the bare skin below her sleeves had sent a jolt up his arm that still burned. And his fingers still felt the ripples that had shaken her at the contact. It had taken considerable determination to back out of reach.

  He should have taken advantage of their privacy to tender his apologies. But she had caught him off guard. He had managed to avoid her since their morning ride, retreating whenever she appeared. His cowardice was unworthy of him, but he had needed the time to regain his composure before beginning his campaign to earn her friendship.