Unmasking Lady Innocent. Ann Lethbridge
a stumble or two and some rueful chuckles from each of them, they found their way to a corner far from the fire. She could make out nothing of his face, though now and again she caught a glimmer of firelight in his eyes, and a flash of white teeth, yet she had an impression of youth, strength and manliness.
He held her hand cradled in his warm one. Once more he brought it to his mouth and she felt the curve of his lips against her knuckles.
She raised her other hand to touch his face, tracing a well-formed brow above a nose to be reckoned with. Continuing her exploration she found a lean strong jaw, smooth shaven, and a determined chin. She followed the line of his neck and rested her hand on a firm broad shoulder.
“Will I do?” he asked with laughter in his voice, but no trace of insult. “Perhaps this will tip the balance in my favor.”
His warm hand cupped her nape, a loose gentle hold, and then his lips touched hers, moved easily on her mouth, tasting her with a soft sigh that made her insides flutter.
A melting sensation invaded her limbs. Dear heaven, she was leaning into him, pressing her tingling breasts against a solid wall of chest to ease their ache, clutching at those lovely broad shoulders and…kissing him back.
Their breaths tangled as she parted her lips. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth in a caress that dizzied her senses. Heat flared in her belly. Little waves of something pleasurable spread out from deep between her thighs.
His other hand wandered her back, came around to stroke her ribs, brushed the underside of her breast. A tantalizing touch, arousing a wildness that made her moan.
He broke away, his breathing ragged and harsh.
She liked that she had some effect on him.
“Dearest lady,” he murmured. “This is neither the time or the place.”
Her face flamed. Was she really so wanton she’d been prepared to bed him right here. It seemed so, for she whispered, “When? Where?”
A soft laugh rumbled from his chest. Little bursts of heat trickled along her veins at the wickedness in the sound.
“Our bargain is sealed, then?” His whisper, so close to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine.
She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Meet me at the masquerade at Vauxhall tomorrow evening.”
Kate must have mentioned her plans. “Very well.” There…that sounded calm enough.
He rose to his feet.
Panicked, she gazed up at him. “How will you find me?”
“Wear red. I will know you.”
Swift strides took him to the door. She had a glimpse of a tall lean form in the half light from the corridor outside, and he was gone.
Diana pressed her hands to her mouth, staring at the empty doorway. Just like that, it was done.
How would she get through tonight when excitement rushed through her veins like molten metal? How would she pretend nothing had happened? Pretend she had never been kissed like a wanton? Pretend she was naught but a dried-up spinster chaperoning her niece? Somehow she must.
Carefully she picked her way through the darkened room. Saw no one in the hallway. Heart skipping, she hurried into the ballroom. Was he here, her stranger? Somewhere in the room, watching, wondering which of the many women present had been in his arms but a moment ago? She pushed through the press of people and took the empty chair at Kate’s side.
Her friend raised a brow.
Diana flushed hot and sent her a look of reproof.
“Then it is done?” Kate said. “Good for you.”
It was done. Finally she’d taken matters into her own hands. But now was not the time to think about it. Tomorrow would arrive soon enough. She buried her excitement beneath a calm smile. She glanced around the opulent marble-and-gilt ballroom. “The Duke of Dunstan certainly knows how to entertain on the grand scale.”
“I’m still reeling at the idea the dissolute duke is actually married,” Kate said with a swift glance at the duke and duchess speaking with a group of guests. The sartorially splendid duke had a bored smile on his thin lips. His duchess, a tall elegant woman, attired in a gown of gold tissue and the famous Dunstan rubies, looked thoroughly ill at ease. “Rumor has it he married to teach the dowager duchess a lesson.”
“Knowing Dunstan’s reputation, I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Diana replied. There was something cold about the duke. “No wonder this ball is such a squeeze. Everyone wants a look at his choice of wife.”
Diana caught a glimpse of Lizzie and Harry on the dance floor and smiled fondly at the blond-haired beauty who looked so much like Diana they could have been sisters. “I really am going to miss the dear child.”
Kate touched her hand with her fan and cast her a knowing smile. “No so much as you expected, I think.”
Diana’s stomach tumbled over. Heat scalded her cheeks. She glanced around. “Hush. Do you want the world to know?”
“No one could possibly guess,” her friend said. “Not about prim-and-proper you.”
Prim and proper certainly described her life up to now. And look where it had got her.
“Here comes Lord Grey,” Kate said.
Cheeks still hot, Diana stared at the lean man bearing down on them. Her heart gave an odd little thump. She’d known James for most of her life. He’d been as sports mad as her intended, Peter. Corinthians, they called themselves. Forever at some boxing match, or racing their horses or curricles. After Peter’s death, he’d given all that up. She’d watched him mature from a gangly heir to an earldom to a tall, athletic and confident lord of his lands.
He’d been her most steadfast friend, helping her through her parents’ deaths and the quagmire of financial arrangements left behind.
Kate narrowed her eyes. “He’s very handsome, but so stern.”
He was handsome. Not a fair Adonis like Peter, but his strong harsh features, the angled jaw and knife-edged cheekbones, spoke of determination and action.
His large spare frame made her think of long rides in the country rather than games of chance in the gambling rooms at Whites. A stern-faced nobleman who did his duty to family and to those lucky enough to earn his friendship.
“I am surprised he has never married,” Kate mused. “Would he do for you, do you think?”
Diana’s heart tumbled over. Once or twice she’d thought, well hoped really, he might have interest, but he’d not said a word. Over time she’d come to realize he viewed her as one of his duties. “He’s been like…like a brother.” He saw her as one of his responsibilities. Nothing more.
“But you do like him?”
“Who would not like Lord Grey? He is an honorable gentleman.” Diana shifted in her chair, the conversation making her twitchy. With what? Yearning? If so, it was pure foolishness. She’d waited for years for Peter to finish sowing his wild oats, as her mother had called his antics on the hunting field and at Jackson’s boxing saloon. She wasn’t waiting for anyone anymore. She sighed a little sigh. “He has been a pillar these last few years and a good friend. Honestly, I believe, even after all this time he feels guilty about what happened to Peter.”
“It wasn’t his fault the fool rode neck or nothing to his death.”
“No, of course it wasn’t,” she said crossly, not wanting to cover old ground. Heavens knew she did it often enough in her own mind. “It was Peter’s own doing. I know it and logically so does Grey. Yet he believes himself partly responsible. I really do not want to discuss this.”
Kate pursed her lips. “Then I will say no more.”
Good.