Page 18 of A Lady's Past
Laughing, Jacques shook Francis’s hand. “I see you two have a lot to talk about. Mrs. Whimple, make sure they take time to eat and sleep.”
“I’ll take care of them, Mr. Laurent,” Doris called from inside the carriage.
Lady Chervil sashayed over with two older gentlemen. “I think this idea of flight is quite wild and dangerous. However, I did manage to learn that we are not the first women to attend. Pinky here tells me several ladies have graced this hall over the years. Even the Duchess of Stilton made an appearance on one occasion.”
“Lord Pinkney, good to see you.” Jacques shook his hand.
“Laurent, what news of France? Will you ever get your land back, or is that a lost cause?” Lord Pinkney slapped Jacques on the back.
“It is likely a lost cause. Besides, I am very happy here in your country, and your king is happy to gain my tax money.”
The men laughed, but Diana thought Jacques’s amusement was forced. She’d not known about all his troubles in France, and what she’d learned today was only bits and pieces of a story. His eyes held pain despite him making light of the subject. All the more reason to keep her troubles from him, lest she lose his friendship.
ChapterFive
As expected, the Roman temple was a ridiculous sight in the center of an English garden. Jacques walked the perimeter, which had been lit with torches. Despite its garish quality, it was rather a magnificent mistake. White pillars stood ten feet high and statues of several Greek and Roman gods and goddesses were standing watch. In the center, Apollo stood nearly seven feet tall, holding a lyre and looking off into the distance.
Jacques supposed it would be impolite to tell his hostess that, traditionally, Apollo was depicted with a kithara, not a simple lyre. He laughed to himself and continued his walk around the temple.
Preston and Millie were dancing, and he’d not seen Diana. He stopped in front of the statue of the goddess Diana or Artemis. He wasn’t actually sure if the temple was meant to be Roman or Greek, nor was he sure Lady Hampton knew the difference. She drew her bow back on some distant beast and her short tunic revealed far more shapely legs than any depiction he’d seen in the museums. Whoever the artist was, he’d taken some liberties and made the goddess of the hunt far more voluptuous than was traditional.
“She looks quite determined.” Diana’s voice was soft but clear in the crisp night.
Taking a breath, he turned. Her hair was coiled high, but with sweet curls left loose to surround her face. Her dark eyelashes drew attention to those bright eyes, ever watchful. The emerald gown she wore was darker than was traditional for an unmarried lady, but since nothing about Diana was traditional, it suited her. “You look lovely.”
The gift of her pink cheeks was more than he could have hoped for. “Thank you.”
“Were you looking for me, or did you have plans to make a donation to this temple?” He was teasing, but hoped it was the former.
She ran her hand along the pillar. “Do you think praying to this mismatched set of gods and goddesses would help me?”
Like a moth to her flame, she drew him closer. “I would help you if you’d let me, Diana.”
A sad smile tugged at her lips. “You shouldn’t offer when you don’t know the extent of my troubles, and I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I allowed you to be pulled down my path.”
“I can take care of myself. If we are friends, then I should assist you in some way.” He ran his knuckles along her jaw to her neck. Her soft hair tickled his hand.
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I cannot allow it, Jacques. I wish I could make you understand, but even that is denied me.”
The number of unanswered questions with regard to this woman were mounting to the point of madness. “In that case, I wonder if some normalcy is the best I can offer.”
Dabbing away her tears, she said, “What do you suggest?”
Leaning forward until his lips were an inch from her ear, he took in her scent, roses and fresh linens along with the warmth that was distinctly Diana. “Dance with me.”
When she turned her head, it brought her lips within a breath of his. Only the sounds of laughter from guests coming out to see the temple kept him from indulging.
Jacques straightened and offered his arm. “Dance with me?”
Through her glove and his clothes, he still felt her heat. The late November chill suddenly disappeared, and he longed to be warmed entirely by her touch. With her nod, he led them into the ballroom.
Just as with the garden temple, the rest of the Hampton town house was equally overdone and ornate. Sir Miles Hampton had been knighted for his service to the crown, which was a nice way of saying he’d bought his knighthood. They threw elaborate balls and made horrendous decorating choices, but the wine was good, as was the food. In truth, though, had it not been for the notion of seeing Diana, Jacques would never have attended such a crush.
The waltz began.
Holding her in his arms could have been enough to keep him happy for many years. How had he gone from confirmed bachelor and rake to blithering idiot in such a short time? “Diana, I must confess, I’m more taken with you than is comfortable.”
She cocked her head. “Is that a French way of saying you like me?”
