Page 33 of Desire and Discipline
“A drink and?—”
“She does not need anything.” The voice that cut through the crowd around her was accompanied by a broad-shouldered man pushing his way through. Diana’s breath caught in her throat, an unvoiced scream of despair that choked her airway, as the Marquess of Camden stepped in front of her.
Half a head taller than her, his dark eyes flashed through the mask he was wearing. His clothes might be plain, but the bearing he carried himself with was such that her admirers all stepped back, automatically giving way to his presumed authority.
“May I have this dance, my lady?” If she’d somehow hoped she’d gone unrecognized, the little emphasis he put on the last two words made it clear he knew she was no lady.
She was a mere miss, a spinster, from a good family, but certainly not a lady.
Lifting her chin, realizing she was going to have to indulge him if only to keep him from making a scene, she nodded her head.
“A dance does sound enjoyable,” she replied, deliberately leaving off the ‘my lord’ and not even giving him a ‘sir.’ Regardless of their social stations, the masquerade not only gave her the excuse to pretend she did not know his title, but at the Society of Sin, she shed her social status entirely. Diana did not bow and scrape to any lord here. They did so to her and thanked her for the pleasure.
Well, except for those who were the dominant party in their own encounters, they did not bother with her at all. Something about a woman who was willing to command and torment willing men seemed to make most of them extremely uncomfortable, and they were nothing but respectful in their dealings. Far more respectful than the Marquess was being now.
She turned to the two admirers, who now looked crestfallen, and smiled sweetly at them.
“I am sure I will need both food and drink upon my return. Champagne, please, and some of the sandwiches.” At her words, both of them perked up, and the rest of her circle looked unhappy at not having their own instructions. They all sighed, watching with longing and open curiosity as she took Camden’s hand. It was the latter that sparked her temper. Eyeing him with displeasure as he led her to the dance floor, she kept her voice low as she admonished him. “I hope you remember that the Society requires discretion. I do not wish for the members to wonder who I am.”
“Why not, if discretion is required?” he asked rather than acceding to her point. “They can hardly say anything.”
“They can refuse to hire me.” She turned toward him, facing him, her head held high as he put his arm around her. They had never stood this close before, his body nearly pressing against hers, her skirts shushing around his legs as he stepped forward and began to lead her in the waltz.
He was a powerful lead, moving with a surety that nearly took her breath away all over again. She could not remember the last time she had danced a waltz with anyone, though she and her sisters had all learned how. At one point, her parents had hoped to debut all of them. Diana had been the third of five daughters, though, and she had decided she would rather train in a profession, and her parents had allowed it.
“You do not need them to hire you. You have a job.”
Diana rolled her eyes.
“Clearly, you are fully recovered.” She nodded her head at the way he was confidently leading her around the ballroom.
“Likely, I am being foolishly overactive, as you are fond of warning me against, and will be bedridden tomorrow.”
She snorted. The Marquess was fully recovered and had been for some time, though he liked to pretend otherwise. She still did not know why. Sometimes, she thought perhaps he enjoyed her company… and she had allowed herself to be persuaded to stay because she enjoyed not only his but the rest of his family’s. They lived very exciting lives. Far more exciting than searching for a new client would be. The steady income from watching over him was also money she could send back to her family. Her youngest sister, Amanda, was debuting next year. They needed the funds.
Tomorrow, she would have to leave, though. It was time. This felt like a sign from the fates that she had overstayed her welcome, regardless of the Marquess’ manipulations. She may never discover why he’d insisted on her remaining after he’d recovered from being shot.
Wondering why might have been another reason she’d stayed. A fondness had developed between the two of them. A friendship.
An attraction.
She ignored the whisper in her mind. She was too old for such things. Their stations too different. And it would be wildly inappropriate to feel such things for a patient. A client.
Other gentlemen had tried their hand at seducing her when she was under their employ, for themselves or a family member. Diana had never had any trouble putting them down with an icy rebuff. Only once had one tried to force the issue and had swiftly discovered that accosting a woman who knew where the most painful spots on the human body were was unwise. Before leaving that house, she’d made certain that his mother knew exactly what he’d gotten up to. The last she’d heard, he was now living on his own on Jermyn Street with only a manservant for staff.
The Marquess’ arm shifted, bringing her closer to him, and Diana’s breath stuttered.
“What are you doing?” she sputtered as they continued to revolve around the room, moving at such a pace that his leg now stepped between hers, so she could not help but feel the press of his body against hers.
“You were not paying attention to me.” There was a touch of petulance to his tone, almost a pout on his lips.
Diana pressed her own lips together, her heart racing as she shook her head.
“You should feel blessed I am not because if I were, I would have to flog you for impertinence.” The threat came automatically to her lips, a surefire way of putting off any of the Sin of Society men who preferred to dominate their partners. They did not enjoy the reversal of roles.
“Then flog me.” His eyes gleamed, and before she could ascertain his intentions, he had them at the edge of the dance floor—on the opposite side of the room from where her circle waited for her return. The doorways were open, leading into the dimly lit hallway.
“You cannot be serious,” she said as he led her off the dance floor toward the hallway.
