Page 17 of A Duke for Diana
Not to mention inflame other parts of him. He hated to admit it, but her lips had the most enticing shape. And her sweet little tongue . . . Every time she’d licked the tip of her pencil, he’d wondered what it would be like having her lick the tip of a certain part of him.
God help him. Arguing with her roused him in ways he’d never thought a fine lady could, even as she’d been insulting him! There could be no more of that, however much it stirred him. Too dangerous.
Besides, she hadn’t been entirely wrong about his need for more fashionable clothing. He’d been putting off having new attire made until he was in London, but that could no longer be postponed. The Season was upon them, and his need for new trousers had become dire, especially if he had to escort Rosy anywhere.
He did have one suit of clothing that would do. But it was for dining with the Society of Civil Engineers tomorrow evening.
“You’re very quiet,” Mother said. “Are you all right, Son?”
“I’m fine. Or I will be once this début is behind us.”
“You could always change your mind about Elegant Occasions,” Rosy said lightly. “We could go home to Newcastle and I could look after you for the rest of our lives.”
He searched her face. “Do you still want to?”
Her expression was comical. She seemed truly conflicted. Then she sighed. “No. They’re very nice women. I think they can help me become a real lady, like . . . like Lady Diana.”
“God forbid,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He looked her over. “I hope they help you come into your own as Lady Rosabel. That would please me most.” When she smiled shyly at that, he added in a teasing tone, “By the time this is over, I expect you’ll have thirty-five suitors.”
“Thirty-five! I’ll be perfectly satisfied with three.”
He laughed. “Lady Diana would not be satisfied with that, I assure you.” He noticed that the uppish female hadn’t turned down his offer to double their fee. She might not approve oftalkingabout money, but she was certainly happy to spend it, especially when it was someone else’s.
Not that he intended to watch her do it. He’d be a bull in a china shop if he accompanied them to a dressmaker’s. Best to let the ladies do that on their own.
Instead, he would head off to a tailor before they even arrived. Lady Disdain would never lecturehimabout clothing again if he could help it. The next time she saw him, he’d be well-dressed if it killed him.
And it just might, given tailors’ usual reactions to his size. They always called in their apprentices to gawk at him. He wasnotlooking forward to that, to be sure. Tall, muscular fellows were uncommon in society as far as he could tell.
That was something Lady Disdain had in her favor. She didn’t seem to mind his size. Although how could he be sure when her sort didn’t share their true feelings about anything?
He caught Mother staring at him. “What is it?”
“You were rather rude to them, you know.”
“Was I?” Of course he was. Sometimes his temper got the better of him. “I found them to be somewhat full of themselves.”
“I found them to be quite nice,” Rosy said, “especially considering what has put them in their present position.”
That got his attention. “What position is that? Sisters running what is probably a lucrative concern?”
“Daughters of an adulteress and her vindictive husband,” his mother said. “Their mother ran off with her lover, ignoring the effect that would have on her daughters. Then their father, also selfish, divorced her for it in a very public trial that had the family—the sisters—being gossiped about for months. Even though those ladies had done nothing to deserve it.”
That sobered him.Nowhe remembered why the Harper name had sounded so familiar. He’d heard it mentioned in the gossip rag Rosy loved to read to them at breakfast.
“So that’s why three pretty women of rank are still unmarried,” he mused aloud. “I did wonder. Especially when Lady Diana showed me their fee. Couldn’t imagine how the three of them managed to gain such hefty fees despite being unable to marry themselves.”
“Mrs. Pierce is a widow, so she at least married once,” Rosy pointed out. “Her husband died in the war.”
“Good God, how did you learn all this?” he asked. “I knew nothing of it.”
Rosy shrugged. “Lady Verity told me. She assumed we knew why they’d decided to strike out on their own.”
“A very bold step in a society that doesn’t allow unmarried women to do anything but live off their family’s wealth, become governesses, or subject themselves to possible humiliation as lady’s companions.” Mother stared at him disapprovingly. “You can hardly fault them for hiding behind their pride.”
