Diana had always been frightened of this room. Not that their father had been cruel, just the opposite, in fact. But the stateliness of the space, the darkness of the wood, and the black leather of the chairs and couches, always seemed too strange and foreign to her. It was a place where men spoke in deep, authoritative tones, and women sat in silence and acquiescence.
This was a room where decisions were made, and edicts handed down. A place for adults. For men. And as she stood in the middle of the room, her hands folded in front of her, her bare toes digging into the plush rug, she felt just as out of place and small as she had when she’d been summoned there to be punished for climbing trees in her new dress.
Charles Elton, Earl of Dunworth, settled into the large chair behind a desk so heavy she never did know how it had been brought to this second-floor room at all. He was still young enough that his blonde hair and easy smile put him at odds with his surroundings, but she could see him making an effort to fill the place of her father, and she decided to humor him, for his sake, and lowered her eyes meekly when he spoke.
“So, my wild faery of a little sister, what business did you have with me this morning?” he asked, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back sardonically in the chair so that Diana had to stifle a giggle.
“Well, it’s about my present.”
Charles laughed. “Of course, it is. And what are you asking for today? A new pony, perhaps? Seven new dresses?”
“Not a new pony, no. And I’ve never asked for dresses. But it does have to do with my mare. See, Epona has been living in the same old stable her whole life. I think she deserves better. She would like a larger stall and a new saddle and tack.”
“Is it Epona’s birthday as well?” Charles asked with a sarcastic, raised brow.
Diana smiled. “Just as you enjoy spoiling me, so I enjoy spoiling my girl. Nothing would please me better for my birthday than to trot out my darling in a shining new saddle.”
“Generous as always.” He was still being sarcastic, but he hadn’t said no.
“Is that a yes, then?”
Charles looked thoughtful for a moment, his smile fading somewhat. “Have you a gown for the celebration?”
Diana shrugged. “Of course, I do. I thought I would wear my powder pink one with mother’s coral necklace.”
“The coral necklace is fine, Diana. But you need a new gown. You’re turning twenty years old, and you need a more grown-up dress. Perhaps something in an emerald green to bring out your eyes.”
“To bring out my eyes? What’s gotten into you, Charles? Who would give a thought to my eyes?”
Charles got to his feet again, and speaking with a voice that sounded more like the late Lord Dunworth than himself, he answered, “Your Epona may have her saddle. A new stable is something we may talk about later. In exchange, you must promise to make an effort to act like the Lady that you are. It’s time to put away childish things, Diana.”
Normally, Diana would have teased him more and been more stubborn, but his voice and manner were so strangely grave and serious that she didn’t dare. “All right, Charlie. I will do my best.”
Charles smiled warmly, crossing the room to her and cupping her chin in his hand. “There’s a good girl. Now go and let me attend to my business.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with a challenging grin.
“And please. Shoes? Hair?”
“Oh, all right, all right. I understand. I’ll go make myself pretty if it will make you stop acting so strange and serious.”
“It’s a deal.” He smiled and dropped his hand from her chin as she whirled out of the room to do as he had asked.
A week later, Diana stared at her reflection with disbelief. The gown that Charles had ordered looked so strange on her. Not to say that it was ill-fitting or sloppily made, in fact, it was by far the finest gown she’d ever owned. Yards of heavy satin draped over her curves to studied effect, and the deep-emerald color was as dimensional and regal as the gem that gave it its name.
She was a bit shocked that Charles had thought it proper for her gown to be so low cut, but when she saw it on, she could see that the neckline, as with all the other details, was perfectly in fashion and utterly gorgeous. There was no flaw in the gown; it was perfect. Too perfect.
As she stared at herself, she could only feel insufficient to fill a gown such as this. She felt as though she were playing pretend, raiding the wardrobe of a far more refined woman. The coral necklace that rested delicately on her collarbone reassured her, however. Her mother had owned more expensive jewelry than this, diamonds and rubies and all sorts of delicate gold, but the coral necklace had always been set aside for Diana.
It seemed like it had been made especially for her, bringing out the pink undertones of her pale skin. Whenever she wore it, no matter what, Diana felt beautiful. Powerful even. As if she wore all the strength and dignity of her mother in that simple necklace.
The coral necklace was eye-catching enough that she could get away with wearing her normal pendant underneath it. Tucking the goddess Diana medal between her breasts inside her dress, the delicate chain she always wore it on became almost invisible. With the goddess of the hunt and the memory of her mother, Diana could face anything.
“Diana?” The soft voice came with a knock on her door frame as her brother tentatively entered her bedroom. “Nearly ready?”
“My, don’t you look handsome,” Diana said. It was rare for her brother to wear his best clothes. He preferred to dress as if he was ready, at any moment, to hop on his stallion and ride off to the woods to hunt.
“I thought so too, until I saw you. I pale in comparison, now.” He laughed, tugging at his sleeve. “People are beginning to arrive. You had best come down soon to welcome the guests.”
“I feel suddenly nervous,” Diana chuckled. “Why does this feel so different from my past birthdays?”
“It’s my hope, darling sister, that you will always look back on this birthday with fondness.”
Diana looked up at her brother, quizzically. His strangely-somber mood had returned again, and she wished to ask him about it, but he was already leading her down to the ballroom, from which flowed the sounds of music and a gathering crowd. She told herself that she would ask him about it later that night and put aside her worries for the time being.
Once in the ballroom, Diana fell easily enough into her role as hostess, greeting aunts, uncles, great-aunts, great-uncles, and all the families of the neighborhood. The room, which normally felt so unnecessarily large and empty, came into its full glory with the presence of guests and the lively sounds of music and laughter.
The curtains over the large windows had all been thrown open, letting in the golden sunlight from outside and bathing the scene in a dream-like radiance that melted away all of Diana’s anxieties about her brother’s strange mood and her uncomfortable gown.
She was chatting amiably with the elderly yet amusingly sharp-tongued mother of one of Charles’ business associates, when the old woman’s face suddenly soured as she glanced over Diana’s shoulder.
“Goodness, whoever invited him?” the woman asked, spitting the pronoun as if it were bitter on her tongue.
“Who?” Diana asked, looking around for the offending character while attempting to appear casual.
“That man with the fawn breeches and forbidding brow. That’s Lord George Orton. Really, he shouldn’t be allowed within fifty feet of any respectable woman,” the woman said with a sniff.
Diana’s eyes widened, a thrill running down her spine at such a prospect. Charles was normally meticulous about forbidding her contact with any man of ill repute.
“Oh, really? Tell me why,” Diana asked, locating the man in question and taking in the sight of him.
He was large, formidably large, but without a pound of fat on him. He looked like the type of man for whom the idea of a good time is to lift heavy objects and throw his weight around. His hair looked like it had been combed neatly a
t one point, but already tendrils of the black locks were falling over his high forehead. He was less handsome than she’d hoped, but still a curiosity.
“I’ll spare your young ears the details, my dear, but suffice it to say that the trail of young women with broken hearts that man leaves in his wake is enough to turn any mother’s stomach. Why your brother would allow him here is quite beyond my capabilities of understanding.”
“Broken hearts? Really?” Diana was incredulous. The man looked quite ordinary to her.
“Do promise me that you’ll keep your distance from him, Diana. You’re just the type of girl he likes to prey on.” The woman touched Diana’s arm almost pleadingly.
“You needn’t worry about me; I’ve no interest in men yet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have my duties as a hostess, you know.” With that, Diana continued to make her rounds about the room, greeting friends and relatives alike.
As she approached the group with which Lord Orton was standing, her palms felt oddly clammy. It was true that she had no real interest in men yet, but it was so strange to be introduced to one, and one with such a bad reputation, that it unnerved her all the same.
Before she made it to him, her brother appeared at her side, lacing her arm through his and guiding her toward the group. She relaxed somewhat, happy to hand over the reins of this introduction to her brother, who would surely protect her if this strange man should attempt anything untoward with her.
“Diana, allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine. Lord Orton, this is my sister, Diana.”
The mysterious lord bowed deeply and took Diana’s nervously-offered hand. She nearly jerked it out of his grasp when he brought the back of her hand to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, holding it there for a moment before looking up at her over her hand.
His eyes were dark, nearly black, and ringed in thick lashes, and he smiled. It was an odd sort of smile, only one corner of his lips quirked upward, and he didn’t seem happy. It seemed almost as if he were laughing at her.
“Please, Lady Diana, honor me by referring to me by my first name. I am George to my friends, and it would please me more than anything to hear you say it.”
“I—uh..” Diana stammered, sliding her fingers from his grasp.
“Your brother has told me so much about you, but nothing could have prepared me for your beauty. Truly, he did you a dishonor despite his best efforts to describe you,” he continued, straightening up. Charles shifted his weight next to her.
Diana was growing hot and was certain that her face was flushing crimson. “I…I’m afraid I can’t say the same, Lord Orton.” She ignored his request for her to use his first name. “I’ve never heard of you until tonight.”
Charles laughed, his voice almost a full octave higher than usual. “Surely I’ve mentioned George in passing.”
“I’m certain you haven’t,” Diana said, growing annoyed by the way this Lord Orton stared at her. Suddenly she could believe the rumors about this man. Despite his ordinary looks, there was something about his gaze that was predatory. Some essence about him—unconscious and subtle but unmistakable—was calculated to make her feel like prey.
It wasn’t a feeling she was used to, but she knew right away that it was not a feeling she relished.
“She’s always forgetting.”
“I’m not offended, Charles,” Lord Orton laughed. “But, My Lady, is it possible that you haven’t already promised the first dance to someone else, and will you do me the honor?”
“I’m very sorry Lord Ort—” she began, but was interrupted by her brother.
“Of course, the honor would be all hers. But not just yet. George, I need a word with you. It’s a…a business matter.”
“Business? At a ball? Really, Charles, you must allow yourself to loosen up occasionally!” Lord Orton said but allowed himself to be distracted from Diana enough for her to slip away.
Charles pulled George aside, carefully out of earshot from Diana who had quickly made off to another group of people to chat with. He noticed how pink her cheeks were, and his heart was pounding. What if this was a mistake?
“She doesn’t know yet,” he said in a hushed tone to George.
“Yes, I figured that out on my own, actually.” George was irritated. “You said you would tell her. Honestly, if you expect me to do your dirty work…”
Dirty work. The phrase stuck in Charles’ mind.
“I don’t. Of course not. I intend to tell her. I’ll tell her after the ball. Just…go easy tonight. It’s all been arranged, as you know. There’s no need to…to lay it on quite so thickly. You frightened her.”
“Frightened her?” Lord Orton laughed again. “My friend, she’s turning twenty, not twelve.”
“Shh…” Charles glanced around nervously, making sure that Diana was still safely out of earshot. “She isn’t like your type of girl. She’s been sheltered here with me. She’s so little acquainted with men.”
“You think she won’t like me?” There was something almost like shyness in George’s tone. Almost.
“She will come to like you. But please, just…be gentle with her.”
George nodded, that half-grin reappearing on his mouth. “I understand you perfectly. I shall be a perfect gentleman tonight, to make your conversation with her later on smoother.”
“Thank you,” Charles said, though his relief was minimal. When George left his side to cross the ballroom toward his sister, the knot in Charles’ stomach tightened. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders. This was the right thing to do. He knew it. Diana’s well-being had been his only priority since their parents had perished in the accident years ago, and her well-being was still at the forefront of his mind. No harm would come to her, he assured himself.
He watched from the sidelines as George took Diana’s hand for the first dance. Her body language was stiff, but that was normal for her. Despite her wild nature, or perhaps because of it, she was skittish around new people. He felt certain that she really would grow to like George. All he needed was a good woman to settle him down, and really, his recklessness would complement her feistiness. If only George could manage to not scare her off from the start.
The ball was agony for Charles. He kept a hawk-like eye on his sister, watching her moods fluctuate throughout the evening. George was nearly always at her side, but it was impossible to read her reactions to him. She seemed at times to be irritated by him like he was a gnat that kept flying around her head no matter how many times she swatted it off.
But at other times, she seemed to tolerate him. He was, by all accounts, a marvelous dancer, and she seemed to loosen up when they danced. Perhaps there was hope that she wouldn’t have Charles’ head when he told her the news that night.
Chapter 2
By the end of the night, Diana was thinking much less about dancing and much more about how much a young woman could sweat before anyone would take notice of it. She was doing her best to enjoy her birthday party while toeing the line between politely avoiding the attentions of Lord Orton and being outwardly rude to him.
He was fine enough while they were dancing. He didn’t talk as much and was admirably light on his feet, but once the music ended, he slipped back into that smarmy, sticky-sweet flirtatiousness. The room seemed to grow hotter as the night went by, and she longed to step out on the balcony, but the thought of being alone in a dark space with Lord Orton filled her with a sense of dread that she didn’t fully understand.
She was grateful when people began to leave, and the ball ended. Her feet hurt, and she felt half asleep already as she bade goodbye to the last guest.
She was beginning to head back to the private sanctuary of her bedroom when Charles stopped her. “Well, Diana, how was your birthday?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me yet. I’m too tired,” she said with a sleepy smile.
“Well, go ahead and get out of your finery and relax, but please come to the study before you go to bed,” he said, loosening his cravat as the
y walked down the corridor.
“Can it wait till tomorrow? I feel about half-dead with exhaustion,” she protested.
“It can’t wait, I’m afraid.”
Diana sighed heavily, stepping out of her slippers and bending down to pick them up and walk barefoot the rest of the way to her room. She wished she could just fall right into bed, but she didn’t have the energy to challenge her brother on this, so she agreed quietly and went to her room to change out of her gown without protest.
In the night, the study was even more frightening than during the day. There were several oil lamps in the room, but they struggled to light up the space, instead they created separate pools of light in an otherwise dark and foreboding room.
Charles was sitting at the desk, hunched over some papers. It was odd to see her brother as a man of business when in her mind’s eye, was still a lanky sixteen-year-old. She hadn’t noticed him growing up, and it struck her suddenly at odd times. Though, she supposed she hadn’t noticed herself growing up either. Where had the years gone?
“You’ll damage your eyes reading this late,” Diana said softly as she came in.
Charles started, not having heard her approaching. “Oh, Diana. There you are. How was your birthday?”
“You already asked that,” she chuckled. “It was lovely. You know how I love to dance.”
“Yes, I do. And Lord Orton was a good dance partner?”
Diane sucked in a breath. “His powers as a dancing partner are formidable. His character though…are you aware of the rumors about him?”
“He’s a lively young man. He’s no saint, I’ll give you that, but he’s hardly a villain either.” Charles’ voice was soft as if they were both afraid of disturbing the aura of their father, which seemed to hover always in this room. He motioned for Diana to come closer, and she did so, leaning against the side of the desk.
“How long have you known him?” she asked.
“I knew him as a boy at school. We were separated for some time as he pursued his freedom while I…well, taking care of you became a career for me,” he grinned.
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