Page 95 of Anything But a Duke
“There’s more you don’t know. Details from his past that aren’t mine to share.” Diana’s head was throbbing. Her heart was aching. Perhaps she couldn’t make Dom understand, but she still knew what she had to do.
Dom shocked her by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He wasn’t one for physical displays and she half expected him to offer some quip or to retreat. Instead, he held her and finally said, “This may be the only time you’ll ever hear me admit this, so listen carefully.”
“You have me trapped. I have no choice but to listen.”
“Love is rare, in my experience. Precious. Something to be cherished.”
Diana arched her brow and glanced at her brother’s profile.
“All the things poets say,” he added with a dismissive flick of his hand. “If you’ve found it, don’t let it go.” He puffed out his chest, gave her a squeeze, and released her. Reaching up, he fussed with his neck cloth and added, “There endeth my advice.”
“Thank you.” She did appreciate his sincerity and she couldn’t disagree with a word of what he’d said, but he didn’t understand the circumstances and Aidan’s goals as she did. “So when are you taking your own advice?”
“Beg pardon?”
“Don’t be coy, Dom. Part of the reason you’re a terrible gambler is that you’re as dreadful a liar as I am and every inch as impractical.”
“This feels like when you used to make up riddles and insist I solve them.”
Diana had once been good at riddles. “This one isn’t too difficult. I’m talking about Sophie, of course.”
He tented his eyebrows in a dramatically bemused expression. “And why, pray tell, are we talking about Lady Sophronia?”
“You’re smitten with her. You always have been and you pretend you’re not by picking frivolous fights with her.”
Diana was sure he’d deny her claim. She’d hinted as much before and he’d always fobbed her off with a joke or sarcasm. Now his mouth tilted in a mischievous grin and she expected the same again.
Instead he squared his shoulders, looked directly into her eyes, and said, “You first. Show me how it’s done.”
“I can’t. But we should go inside. The ball will begin soon.” Diana started back and then paused, waiting for him to join her on the threshold.
“How will you get through it?”
“Wish me luck?”
“You’ve never needed luck, and you know mine is terrible.” He shocked her by bending to brush a kiss on her cheek. “I wish you happiness, Di. I hope you’ll allow yourself to have it.”
Inside, Diana found Grace and Bess chatting in the drawing room.
“Come and join us,” Bess called. “The musicians are in the ballroom. All the candles are lit. Everything is in place and we only await the arrival of Mr. Iverson and a few other guests.”
Dom took a chair near the ladies and Diana opted for the edge of the settee nearest the fireplace. She felt hollow and couldn’t get warm.
“So you’re looking for a mercenary marriage, Miss Grinstead.”
“Dom.” Diana matched the sharpness of her tone with a quelling glare that had sometimes worked on him when they were children.
“Forgive me,” he said too flippantly for anyone to believe he felt a bit of remorse. “I have been reading too much poetry of late and have developed the foolish notion that marriage should be based on love.”
“Love can grow in time,” Grace said, though there was a distinctly uncertain wobble in her tone. “Admiration is a fine start, and I certainly admire Mr. Iverson.”
“Even if he’s smitten with my sister?”
“Dom!” Diana shot out of her chair at the same moment Grace gasped and a tall, auburn-haired investor stepped into the room.
“He is, actually.” Aidan’s voice often sent a burst of warmth through Diana’s body. The sound of it now set her nerves aflame.
She wasn’t ready to face him. Grace, on the other hand, was.
