Diana placed her hand gently on his arm. “If you are that distressed, we shall leave at once, Derek.” Her large brown eyes mirrored her concern and love for him.
She was so breathlessly beautiful. Her blonde hair gleamed in the light of the chandelier, and the magnificent diamond necklace around her throat glistened brilliantly. Diamond necklace! Where in the hell had she gotten that expensive piece of jewelry? Derek wondered.
“I asked Diana to wear the Norwood diamonds tonight, Derek,” the dowager duchess informed him. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Derek gave the older woman a withering look, but her keen gray eyes softened in understanding.
Derek felt like a fool. He was behaving childishly, and he knew it. He had certainly seen women in far more revealing gowns than Diana’s. The problem was, he had never been in love with any of those women.
“Derek?” Diana said softly.
Mastering the remnants of his ire, he grasped his wife’s arm firmly. “You will stay near me at all times this evening—is that clear? You will not partner any man in a dance unless I first approve of him—is that understood?” Diana meekly nodded her head. “Good. Now come along. Your Aunt Katherine wishes to present you to Lord and Lady Harrington.”
Chapter Twenty-three
The calmness Diana had achieved during the carriage ride to the ball deserted her the moment she heard the footman announce in a loud, clear voice, “Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Gillingham.” Diana’s feelings hovered between extreme terror and total panic as she watched the dowager duchess stand proudly atop the three-step landing, regally surveying the crowded ballroom below. The dowager waited until Tristan and Caroline were also announced, then firmly held onto her grandson’s arm, and descended to the ballroom floor.
Few of the dancing guests paid much attention when the dowager duchess or Caroline and Tristan were announced. Diana noted several heads did turn, however, when the butler next shouted, “The Duke and Duchess of Gillingham.”
Derek and Diana immediately took up the vacated position at the edge of the landing and watched Morgan and Alyssa glide down the steps. Diana took several shallow breaths attempting to master her nerves.
Derek possessively tucked her fingers in the crook of his arm while they waited to make their grand entrance. Diana could hear the low murmur of excitement among the guests as everyone began to focus their attention on them.
“We certainly are the main attraction this evening,” Derek whispered, leaning close to Diana.
“Aptly put, my lord,” Diana countered, the frozen smile never leaving her face. “It does seem as though every person in the room is gawking at us.”
“The Earl of Harrowby, and his bride, Lady Diana,” the butler shouted.
Derek held Diana atop the landing for a full minute, affording everyone a good long look at his countess. He stared nonchalantly down at the throng of elegantly dressed people as they looked up, scrutinizing him and his new bride. Then Derek and Diana leisurely descended.
Morgan, Alyssa, Tristan, Caroline, and the dowager duchess all rushed forward and Derek and Diana were quickly surrounded by a mob of curious well-wishers. After a time, Derek politely broke away from the crowd, steering Diana on a slow tour of the enormous room.
As they strolled, Derek occasionally introduced her to a select few and offered a congenial greeting to others. By the time they completed the circuit around the ballroom, Diana felt the color rising in her cheeks. She had never before been subjected to such intense scrutiny.
Her nerves were no longer stretched to the breaking point, and she felt surprisingly calm beneath the open appraisals of the men and the chilling stares of the women. She was, in fact, too much in awe of her husband’s social graces to be concerned about her own nerves. Derek handled the openly curious members of the ton with the ease and skill of a well-seasoned diplomat. It was an aspect of his character she had not seen before, and it intrigued her.
The musicians struck up the first waltz of the evening, and Derek whirled her into his arms and joined in the dance, guiding her expertly across the polished floor, in perfect time to the beautiful music.
He held her improperly close to his lean body, but Diana was so enjoying the comfort and strength of his embrace that she chose to ignore the matrons raising their eyebrows. Sighing contentedly, Diana rested her head against his broad, muscular shoulder and allowed the lovely music to soothe and relax her.
Diana gazed lazily up at her husband, meeting his twinkling blue eyes. He looked devastatingly handsome in his starkly elegant black-and-white evening clothes. He was by far the most attractive man in the room. And he belonged to her. Diana could hardly believe her good fortune.
“Thank goodness, you know how to waltz,” Derek said softly into her ear. “I was so anxious to avoid the crush I thoughtlessly forgot to ask you before we began the dance.”
“I have a feeling it really would not matter if I knew the steps or not,” she told him with an impish smile. “You guide me so expertly about the floor, all I really need to do is follow your lead. Truly, my lord, you dance divinely.”
“For God’s sakes, don’t let Morgan or Tristan hear you say something like that.” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward. “They shall derive endless amusement by parroting that remark to me at every opportunity.”
Diana responded by tugging lightly on the soft, brown curls that hung over the collar of his white cravat and they both laughed. His broad smile quickly vanished, however, when he looked down at her.
“When I hold you this close, I can easily see down the front of your dress!” he exclaimed with ill humor. “For God’s sake woman, I can practically see your nipples.”
“If it upsets you so much, Derek, you shouldn’t be looking down my dress.”
Derek nearly missed a step at her flippant response. “Trust me, Diana,” Derek muttered. “You won’t be acting so coy if one of the more aggressive rakes begins making suggestive remarks to you.”
Diana was not alarmed. “You are here to protect me, Derek,” she replied mildly. “Besides, I am newly married. How could any man have the gall to approach me with an indecent remark?”
“The very fact that you are newly married makes you such an appealing target,” Derek said patiently, trying desperately to take his wife’s advice and not look down the front of her gown. He failed. Her fair, unblemished skin glowed creamy white under the brilliant candlelight. He swallowed hard and tried to concentrate on the steps of the dance. “You represent a true challenge to the more jaded rakes in attendance, Diana. I imagine the wager book at White’s will be filled tonight with countless bets on when you shall take your first lover and who that lucky fellow shall be.”
Diana cast him a skeptical look. “You forget, Derek, ours is a love match. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what ridiculous wagers are made. There is only one man in this room who has the power to entice me into his bed. And he is holding me in his arms this very minute,” Diana whispered seductively.
Derek favored her with a positively lecherous grin that brought a sparkling giggle to Diana’s lips. When the last notes of the waltz were played, he led her from the dance floor toward a small alcove. Once there, he settled her comfortably on an empty red velvet chair, between the dowager duchess and Alyssa.
As soon as Diana sat down, she was immediately besieged by a dozen eager young admirers. They begged for an introduction, pleaded for the pleasure of a dance, and even vied for the honor of procuring a glass of lemonade to quench her thirst.
Diana was truly overwhelmed. The dowager duchess was smugly pleased over Diana’s triumph while Alyssa seemed amused. Derek rudely glowered at all of the eager bucks, but only a handful were chased away by his scowls.
“Lady Diana has promised this set to me, gentlemen,” Morgan informed them all in a cool voice.
Grateful for his interceding, Diana accepted the duke’s outstretched hand and rose to her feet. She cast her group of admirers a hapless smile and left.
The evening progressed on much the same note. Diana only accepted an invitation to dance after her husband gave his silent nod of approval. With the exception of Morgan and Tristan, her partners were, by and large, men near in age to the dowager duchess, but Diana didn’t mind. Surprisingly, she was having a wonderful time. This was her first ball and Lady Harrington’s ballroom looked spectacular, with its glittering chandeliers, fanciful decorations of flowers and ribbons, crush of sophisticated, elegantly dressed people, and beautiful music.
“I know you are merely being protective of her, Derek,” the dowager duchess said as Lord Harrington led Diana out onto the dance floor. “But I don’t believe Diana has danced with anyone under the age of sixty all evening.”
“Nonsense, Aunt Katherine,” Derek replied baldly. “She has danced both waltzes with me and a set with Morgan and Tris.”
The dowager duchess tapped her fan lightly on Derek’s wrist. “That is not what I mean and you know it, young man,” she said. “Everyone is beginning to comment on how possessive you are. It looks as though you don’t trust your own wife, Derek. For heaven’s sake, just choose one of the younger bucks to partner Diana in a country dance.”
And thus, as the next tune began, Diana found herself being led out on the floor by George Rotherby.
“It is truly marvelous to see you again, countess,” Rotherby gushed. “I could barely believe my good fortune when the earl suggested I partner you for this quadrille.”
Diana smiled pleasantly at Rotherby and gracefully took hold of his outstretched arm. As they strolled out to the dance floor, she could not help but compare the obvious strength and masculinity of her husband to the quaint, effeminate manner of George Rotherby.
Tonight, Mr. Rotherby was dressed in a scarlet velvet evening jacket and a vividly patterned waistcoat of gold-and-scarlet brocade. The starch of his cream-colored cravat and collar points were so long and stiff his head was kept firmly facing straight ahead. As the dance began, he executed a faultless bow and Diana wondered how he managed it.
There was not much opportunity for conversation during the spirited dance, but the small spurts of conversation Rotherby engaged Diana in were centered primarily around clothing. His, hers, and the ensembles of various individuals as they came into view were each critically commented on. Mr. Rotherby had very definite opinions on styles, colors, and fabrics, and he was eager to express them.
Although there was very little touching involved in the dance, Diana was surprised when their hands met. She found the strength of Rotherby’s fingers in direct contrast with the wiry thinness of his body and the foppish manner of his demeanor.
When the dance ended, Diana and Rotherby were on the far side of the ballroom. They had just begun making their way across the polished floor when a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped deliberately in front of them. Startled, Diana looked up to find a dramatically good-looking man with coal-black hair and even darker black eyes staring intently down at her.
“Introduce us, Rotherby,” the stranger said.
“Lord Hampton,” Rotherby said, clearly intimated by the request. “I’m not really sure—”
“I am Hampton,” the stranger said silkily, ignoring the flustered Rotherby. “Forgive me for introducing myself, but I have been most anxious to meet you, Lady Diana.”
“Really?” Diana replied coolly, hoping to put him off. “Well, now you have been granted your wish. Good evening, Lord Hampton.”
Hampton laughed and moved in closer. “Meeting you was only a small part of my desire, Lady Diana.” He gave her a sleepy, seductive smile. “Dance with me,” he whispered softly.
For an instant Diana swayed unconsciously toward Lord Hampton, hypnotized by the dark liquid pools of his eyes. His stare was provocative, the sensual power of his presence nearly overwhelming. Regaining her wits, Diana blinked several times and forced herself to look away from him. She could almost feel the danger lurking beneath his polished charm.
Not waiting for her acquiescence, Hampton placed his hand possessively on her arm. When he felt Diana’s resistance, he said, “Of course if you prefer to forgo our dance, I would be delighted to show you the conservatory.”
“Oh, dear!” Rotherby exclaimed in genuine distress. He made a move to grab Diana’s other arm, but Hampton cast him a savage look. Rotherby visibly withered under the stare, and in the blink of an eye, he faded into the crowd. Hampton returned his dark gaze to Diana.
Several couples had taken their positions around them and were waiting for the music to begin. Diana knew she was neatly trapped. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself, and she was astute enough to realize Hampton would not relinquish his hold on her without a struggle. With perceptible effort Diana kept her voice calm and ordinary. “I will dance with you, my lord,” she said finally.
“Splendid,” Hampton replied, and he swept Diana regally into his strong arms.
Too late she realized the dance was a waltz. She closed her eyes momentarily, hoping the dance would be of short duration. When she opened them again, Lord Hampton was staring down at her. She stubbornly refused to meet his eyes.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Diana, but I suspect you are already aware of your unique charm.” Hampton’s gaze lingered for several minutes on the glittering diamonds around her throat, then dropped lower.
Diana was not really surprised at his bold appraisal. She had sensed he was a dangerous man the moment she’d met him. His actions were merely proving her instincts correct.
“Enjoying the view, my lord?” Diana asked with bitter sarcasm. She felt her temper rising, but she was determined to put this rakish devil in his place.
“The view is extraordinary,” Hampton murmured. “Your skin is flawless, Diana. And your breasts, why, your breasts are truly glorious. I think you will prove to be one lover who will not easily bore me.”
His shocking statement caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Hampton tried to swing her around, but her feet held firm. It was one thing to coyly flirt and quite another to make such a personal, suggestive remark. A slow burning rage took possession of her.
“You, my lord, are a pig,” she said in a clear, strong voice, pulling herself out of his grasp. “And if you ever dare to so much as speak to me again, Lord Hampton, I shall take great pleasure in slapping your conceited, arrogant face.”
Turning swiftly on her heel, Diana stalked off, leaving Hampton standing alone in the mist of the dancing couples.
Diana made her way through the crowd without further incident and took a seat next to Caroline. None of the men were anywhere in sight and Diana was grateful. She was certain the agitation she felt was evident on her face and she had no wish to relate the incident to anyone, especially Derek.
“Were you just dancing with Lord Hampton?” Caroline asked. At Diana’s curt nod, Caroline said, “You had best be careful around him, Diana. Hampton’s the most notorious rake in London and probably the most dangerous.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Diana said sincerely, feeling relieved she had escaped him.
“It really is a pity his striking good looks hide such a ruthless and dark soul,” Caroline said as she viciously fanned herself.
Diana shuddered involuntarily and glanced over at her friend. She momentarily forgot her ire over Lord Hampton when she saw Caroline’s ashen features. “Are you feeling unwell, Caroline?”
“I am feeling rather warm,” Caroline said breathlessly. She continued to rapidly move her ivory fan.
Diana anxiously searched the crowded room. Tristan danced past them holding Alyssa in his arms. Morgan next whirled by with the dowager duchess, who was smiling with genuine delight while she danced with her eldest grandson. Finally, Diana saw Derek.
He was engaged in earnest conversation with several individuals, but he lifted his head the moment Diana fixed her stare on him. Derek quickly excused himself from the group and strode purposefully toward her.
“Caroline needs some
fresh air,” Diana said the moment he reached them.
“It would be my pleasure, ladies” Derek said, gallantly offering them each an arm. He led the way, and they pushed passed the crowds milling about the French doors and stepped out into the clear starry night.
“I just had to get away for a few minutes.” Caroline sighed, breathing in great gulps of air. “It was so stuffy my head was spinning.”
They decided to walk along the outer balcony and enjoy the warm breeze. They conversed pleasantly until Caroline suddenly clutched her middle in extreme distress.
“I think I am going to be sick!” she exclaimed in true horror. Turning her head aside, she gripped the wrought-iron balustrade for support, leaned far over the railing, and threw up.
Derek was completely alarmed, but Diana firmly held Caroline by the waist and waited until she was finished. Keeping her face averted, Caroline whispered to Diana, “I am so embarrassed. Please send Derek away.”
Diana instantly turned to her bewildered and worried husband. “Please go find Tristan,” she said. “Caroline needs to go home at once.”
Derek hesitated a few moments, not wanting to leave the women alone in this secluded section of the balcony. He quickly lost his reluctance, however, when Caroline groaned loudly, thrust her head back over the railing, and began retching again. He muttered a few words about returning as soon as possible and left to search for Tristan.
Diana fumbled in the pocket of her gown for a handkerchief and wiped Caroline’s damp brow. Caroline accepted her assistance, then began weeping.
“I feel like the veriest fool, Diana,” Caroline said, sobbing. “All I have done for months and months is complain about not being able to conceive a child. How desperately I longed for a baby! And now that my greatest wish has finally come true, I am a total disaster.”
“Oh, Caroline, you are not a disaster,” Diana said soothingly.
“But I am, Diana,” Caroline said with a sniff. “Just look at me. I look awful. My complexion is pale and sallow. I feel light-headed and dizzy for a good part of the day, and I start weeping at the drop of a hat. And now, in the middle of this lovely ball, I have gotten violently ill in Lady Harrington’s shrubbery. It is pitiful.”
Notorious Deception Page 25
