Vesta’s face crumpled. Tears misted her eyes. Her lower lip quivered. “Please, Uncle Vic,” she implored prettily. “It’s your only brother’s engagement party, and it’s tradition for the highest-ranking gentleman to lead out the highest-ranking lady. If you do not do so, then who will accompany Aunt Di?”
***
Ludovic noted the glimmer in her eye and the sly quirk of Vesta’s lips. The scheming little baggage was once more up to something. Very well then, I’ll play along.
“Me?” Diana queried. “Vesta, I have no intention of dancing with anyone.”
She couldn’t have made it more clear who anyone was, yet Ludovic noted with satisfaction how she avoided his gaze. “But, my dear Lady Palmerston-Wriothesley, we wouldn’t wish to defy tradition, would we? What would people say?” he mocked.
“You are wearing boots,” she replied with contempt. “A gentlemen does not dance in boots.”
He glanced down at his feet with a feigned look of surprise. “Ah, so I am. Yet fabricated of the supplest calfskin by George Hoby’s own hands.” He extended a leg in admiration and then experimentally flexed and rotated his ankle.
Diana visibly paled.
Ludovic chuckled. “I daresay I can manage even with the boots.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Why ever not?”
“My lord, you may make an ass of yourself all you like, but I will not allow you to humiliate me or our dear goddaughter.”
“Once again, my lady, you make unfounded presumptions. You will put your antagonism aside for Vesta and Hew’s sake. And I will lead you out to the floor where you will dance with a smile upon your face as if you are transported.”
“And if I refuse?” she challenged.
He answered sotto voce with a twisted smile. “Then, my dear, I will bodily carry you. And I promise there is not a single one here who would dare to intervene.”
***
When Lord DeVere extended his velvet-clad arm, Diana scrambled for any excuse, any way out, but then his hand came over hers, holding it in a clasp of iron on his sleeve. The taunting look he delivered confirmed that her wish was impossible; there would be no escaping the mortification.
Choosing to meet her fate with quiet dignity, Diana raised her chin and advanced to the center of the room on DeVere’s arm. She watched with amazement as with a mere inclination of his head, the crowd divided, moving in a giant wave toward the outer walls, as if he were Moses parting the Red Sea. With a hundred or more pairs of eyes riveted on their every move, Diana felt her face would burst into flames. He gave her another mocking smile, and she wondered if the evening could possibly get any worse.
Upon DeVere’s command, the musicians launched into an airy piece she recognized as a Bach minuet. Determined not to give him any more fodder for ridicule, Diana turned to their audience, dipping into the deep curtsey, the formal show of reverence that began the courtly minuet. She kept her eyes lowered on her silk petticoats sweeping the floor, then turned to offer the same homage to her partner, refusing to meet DeVere’s gaze even as she rose to face him. She couldn’t mask her nervous tremble when he reached for her hand to begin the dance.
She stared, flabbergasted when he remarked, “Just concentrate on the pattern, Diana, and I’ll ensure you don’t make a spectacle of us.”
“Me? I’m not the one reeling with drink!” Diana couldn’t determine if he had meant to reassure or ridicule, but he had certainly succeeded in discomposing her. Thenceforth, it took all her concentration to keep track of the intricate steps. They had already proceeded halfway across the floor when Diana realized rather than stumbling and staggering through the dance as she had anticipated, DeVere rose and dipped in perfect time with the music, every movement executed flawlessly.
“But you don’t even dance!” she hissed.
He flashed her a dazzling smile that rattled her to the point of faltering. DeVere broke the pattern to take her in hand and lead her back into the dance. “I despise it,” he murmured back through his show of brilliant white teeth. “But I never said I couldn’t. One can hardly avoid the tedious obligation of it when spending half a year in Paris.”
They executed the first turn and parted for the z-figure. When they came together again, DeVere remarked, “It’s the main reason I left Paris for Venice—to escape the execrable French obsession with dancing.” They parted once more for the left turn. “There is, however, one form of dance of which I am highly enamored,” he said as the figure brought them back together again.
“And what is that?” she asked.
“There is a fascinating dance practiced among the Turks and Egyptians.”
“Really?” Diana remarked, intrigued despite herself. “How is it different?”
DeVere gave her a wicked smile. “It is highly erotic in nature. But if the subject truly interests you, I would be delighted to find you some instruction in Oriental dance.”
“You are beyond the pale.” Diana glared. DeVere laughed.
She was still trembling when the final notes sounded at the end of the dance but now from a completely different cause. She could neither comprehend nor control the effect this man had over her. Her pulse raced; her breathing was short. She repeated her obeisance to partner and onlookers in a daze wrought of conflicting emotions. Suddenly feeling as if she was suffocating, Diana turned in a swish of silk skirts to flee the stifling ballroom.
Chapter Eight
“Just look at them, Hew,” Vesta gushed as Diana and DeVere departed the dance floor. “Have you ever seen a more handsome couple? Who would ever have thought?”
“Couple? I see no couple,” said Hew, remarking Diana’s flight. “She has left my brother standing there gaping. To all appearances, she could not leave him fast enough.”
“She’s in love with him, you know,” Vesta declared.
Hew sputtered on his drink. “Diana and my brother? Impossible! I mean, there may have been something between them in the distant past, but anyone can see how much she despises him.”
“Poor darling,” she cooed, “you know so little of women. She only wants to despise him. That’s quite another thing, you know.”
“Oh, no! I have come to recognize that devious gleam, Vesta. Do not meddle with my brother and Diana. I assure you, Ludovic is not a man to be crossed, and there is already some history between them we know nothing about.”
“But don’t you see it’s for their own good? They only need time alone together, Hew, and I am certain they will come to feel quite differently about one another.” She beamed up at him. “Just as we did.”
“Just because your scheming worked once does not mean I’ll condone it again.”
“But we don’t actually have to do anything, Hew. That’s beauty of it. All they need is the opportunity for nature to take its course. And I know just the thing.”
Before Hew could even think to stop her, Vesta was already tripping across the ballroom toward the French doors.
***
Bursting onto the terrace, Diana gasped in a great breath, only to discover DeVere had trailed after her. Although she had given him no encouragement, she still wasn’t surprised by his dogged pursuit. Once he set his sights on a goal, he was ruthless in obtaining it. He would wear her down until she had no strength left to resist him. She wished she had never re-crossed his path.
“Why?” She spun on him. “Why do you continue to importune me when I have made my repugnance clear?”
“Why?” he shot back. “Because I always get what I want, and I find I still want you. Indeed, the unfulfilled craving is driving me half-mad.”
“Only half-mad?” she jeered. “You are completely insane if you think to ever have me again. What passed between us was a monumental mistake and one I have no intention of repeating. Why can’t you accept that and just let me be?”
“Why do you continue this game, Diana?” he asked, his voice a soft rumble against her hair. He was standing close enough to engulf her in his scent, a c
oncoction of brandy, leather, horses, and male musk that made her senses reel. “Your own body belies you,” he said. “The faintest touch has you trembling with want.”
“Your conceit is unbearable. I’m shivering with cold, you insufferable boor!”
“The first statement is undoubtedly true.” He chuckled. “But I have grave doubts about the second.”
She felt his hard thighs against her backside and his hands on her waist, slowly ascending, the heat of his touch infusing her skin through the light silk of her gown. His thumbs brushed the outsides of her breasts, making her body rack with tiny but undeniable quivers of sensation. “It’s not the cold, Diana.” His hot breath fanned her nape. “And you know it.”
It was past time to escape. Diana spun around only to hear a familiar, feminine voice declare from inside the ballroom, “So that’s where the draft is coming from!” The terrace door clicked firmly shut, followed by the sound of the tumblers turning in the lock. Realizing she was now trapped with DeVere, Diana wanted to cry out in dismay. She turned her back to him in an effort to compose herself. She fixed her gaze out over the lawn, at the fountain in its midst shimmering under the light of myriad flambeaux. “Please,” she said in an unsteady voice, “I can’t bear it again. I truly don’t want this.”
Her heart galloped when he stroked the backs of his fingers down her arms and then over her breasts. Her treacherous body betrayed her once more, her nipples instantly tingling and hardening in response to him.
“But I think you do,” he said.
“No! I don’t! I am not the same woman I was four years ago. I’d had a horrible shock. Several, in fact, that made me much too vulnerable to you. My life was crumbling before my eyes, and you exploited that.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?” he asked. “I did no such thing, Diana. You turned to me in your need. I did not coerce you.”
“You saw my weakness and took advantage of it!”
“How?” he asked “How did I take advantage of you? You sought me out, remember? You came to my bed, and I gave you what you asked for...and much more. How is that exploitation?”
“As soon as you got what you wanted, you broke it off and disappeared! You were gone for four years, Ludovic! No word. Nothing!”
“And you believe it was by my choice?” His voice sounded rough and edged with bitterness. “Have the past years not brought you any clarity?”
“You made it clear enough at the time. ‘Amorous idyll’s are best ended before the bloom is off the rose.’” She laughed, an equally harsh sound.
He winced. “Did I say that?”
“Yes! And then you paid me off like some high-priced whore.”
“It was an exceedingly generous settlement, intended to provide for your security.”
“Am I supposed to feel gratitude?”
“Frankly, yes!”
“But a lease to a house is so very mundane, Ludovic. What do you intend to offer me this time? Diamonds and rubies?”
“Don’t, Diana! You are different from the rest.”
“How am I to think myself any different from your countless mistresses, concubines, and whores, when you took what you wanted and offered payment in return?”
“Damn you! It wasn’t like that. You know that’s not how I thought of you. How I feel about you!”
“Feel?” she cried out. “What could a man like you possibly feel beyond your—”
“My what?” He brought her hand to his groin. “Say it, Diana. I love hearing vulgar words from your lovely lips.”
“I refuse to gratify that.” She snatched her hand away as if burned.
He laughed. “Then I’ll say it for you—my cock. The part of me that oftimes governs my life. Yes, I feel a great deal there and with great frequency, but each encounter is soon forgotten. You were the exception to that. You were never just a fuck to me. Can’t you understand that? For the first time, I wanted more. I wanted something else from you, Diana, but that something was denied me. And when I knew I couldn’t have it, when it appeared utterly impossible, I was enraged.”
“So you left.”
“Yes, I left. I had several good reasons for doing so...not the least of which was to protect a certain widow’s good name.”
“What misery it must have been for you to be obliged to gallivant about continental brothels and gaming rooms for four years. So self-sacrificing,” she jeered.
“I won’t apologize to you or to anyone else for my way of life, madam. Wine, women, gaming, and horses are a lifelong habit but one with which I have become utterly bored of late. The drinking, the gaming, the whoring, it became the same day after day, just in other locales. ‘Tis why I eventually went to the East to try to discover something more, something worthwhile. Ironically, the only diversion or peace I have found was among those so-called heathen Turks.”
“Then why did you bother to return?”
“I almost did not, but you might say I wore out my welcome. My money only bought me limited time as they never truly accept infidels. I seriously contemplated conversion just to remain there, but I lacked the spiritual fortitude and could not in good conscience pretend to live under their religious yoke. I am many things, Diana, but not a hypocrite.”
“You expect me to swallow that tripe when you have reembraced all the depravity you just professed to have shunned?”
“Don’t mock me,” he said. “I bear physical evidence of my sincere attempt of redemption, but I accept that I failed. Thus, what is left for me now but to indulge my senses?”
“Your journey of self-discovery is a truly moving tale, my lord, but I fail to see what any of it has to do with me.”
“Do you not?” he asked. “For I see it at last. It’s rare that I have known honesty, Diana. I realized this three weeks ago, the very moment you marched into my private chambers in all your glorious, self-righteous fury.”
“But you knew I would come, didn’t you? It was all a ploy, just an amusing game to you. That’s all I have ever been, isn’t it? Merely a challenge to entertain a bored rake?”
“That may have been true in the very beginning, but I told you, you are different to me. Your fire, your passion, it represents truth. You feel deeply, Diana, and do not conceal it. When we were together, I was more alive because of you. I wanted more of that...but then certain circumstances made it impossible.”
“Certain circumstances or certain people?” she asked.
“Ah, so clarity does come at last! Yes, Diana, Caroline would have destroyed you. I would not be responsible for that.”
“So you hied off to God-knows-where in order to protect me?”
“Yes. Leaving my home and my brother was not my preference, but I could not have protected you otherwise.”
“Yet you hardly pined for your loss of me, and you stayed away far longer than was necessary.”
“I don’t deny I have enjoyed the company and the favors of other women, but the majority of them—as most of the people in my life, Hew and Ned excluded—have been largely parasitic. It’s mutual, of course, for I have taken what I desired in return.”
“A confession that brings us full circle, my lord.”
“No, Diana. There you are wrong. I never took anything from you that was not freely offered, and for the record, I reciprocated more than I have with any other. I ask nothing from you now beyond the same honesty you once gave me. I am weary of being surrounded by nothing but greed and vice.”
“Because you seek it out!” she insisted. “And if anything good came to lie at your feet, you would be too blinded by hedonistic self-indulgence to see it!”
“Wrong again, my love,” he murmured. “For I clearly see you.”
***
Diana opened her mouth to remonstrate, but no sound emerged.
Sensing her lowered guard, he entrapped her between his body and the marble balustrade in front of them, brushing his fingers along the neckline of her bodice, locating her nipples, while he sucked her neck. He found the h
ollow place behind her ear with his tongue, and her erstwhile protest transformed into a strangled moan.
“Are you going to bite me again?” he asked. “Or do I take that sound as an invitation?”
“Please, don’t,” she protested, even as she tilted her head back, giving him easier access.
“Still, you contradict yourself,” he said, licking and nibbling her skin while his thumb and forefinger teased her nipple. “The truth now, Diana. Do you truly wish me to stop? Or shall I take that rosy nipple into my mouth and suckle it while I finger you until you scream? Or would you rather I tongue you to your release? I would be happy to comply with either. The door is locked, and I would be concealed by those voluminous skirts of yours. Thus, it is purely your preference.”
“Dear God,” she cried out, a sound of mixed pleasure and protest. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’m a ruthless bastard when I want something, and I want the truth from you. If I must go to my knees to get it...so be it.”
She gasped in another halfhearted protest, her chest rapidly rising and falling as he cupped her breasts, squeezing and molding the soft mounds. He ground his cock against her buttocks, and she arched into him with a soft cry. He released one breast to inch under her petticoat, skirting up the inside of her smooth, quivering thighs, until he approached the object of his desire. To his smug satisfaction, he found her wet with the want she so vehemently denied.
“A mere touch, and you’d explode,” he remarked. “Don’t dare refute it now, Diana. I’ve never known a woman want to come so badly. I can cure your ache. I can give you what you want...what you need.”
“Damn you to hell, DeVere!” she cried, jerking out of his hold. “Yes, I want you now, but I would despise myself for it the moment we finished.”
“Why?” he asked, confounded.
“Why? Because I once confused passion for deeper feeling. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“But don’t you remember how it was between us? I can bring you rapture. You know that. What harm is there?”
“Surely the same words the serpent whispered to Eve,” she retorted. “I can’t deny the physical attraction between us, but it’s not enough for me. I refuse to seek empty pleasure in meaningless copulation.”
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