Page 27 of To Love and to Loathe
Things that she had no particular interest in hearing.
Thirteen
Diana had as short arespite from her friends as she might have expected. She had retreated to her bedchamber and solicited Toogood’s assistance in removing herself from her riding habit and unlacing her corset before dismissing her maid. Clad only in her chemise, Diana wrapped herself in her most luxurious dressing gown—a delicious concoction of embroidered red velvet; she always felt like a courtesan in it, in the best possible sense—and sat down in her room’s window seat with a sketch pad.
The view out her window was stunning—a few clouds had appeared in the late-afternoon sky but the sun was doing its best to shine around them upon the rolling green lawns stretching out beyond the house, a corner of the formal gardens that lined the east side of the manor visible from her vantage point. She scarcely noticed said view, however, so occupied were her thoughts with the day’s events. She hardly thought mauling Willingham in a forest really suited their respective aims—his to bed a woman and solicit an honest review, hers to gain a bit of experience in the bedroom. When stated that way, the entire agreement sounded rather cold-blooded, and yet it felt anything but. Whenever she was so much as in the same room as Willingham, she found herself seized with an almost unbearable desire to touchhim—to run her fingers through that beautiful golden hair of his; to press a kiss to the spot beneath his strong jaw that so tantalized her; to seize his surprisingly rough hand and move it on her own body, learning how she liked to be touched.
It was all thoroughly… distracting.
And Diana could not afford to be distracted—she had an affair to conduct and a wager to win. It was an awful lot on one lady’s plate. She needed to focus. But how could she focus, when she had become so inconveniently fixated on a certain marquess? She had spent much of her life trying to ensure that no one could have any sort of power over her, so how had she reached this state so quickly?
These unhelpful thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door; she rose to open it, but Violet and Emily practically tumbled inside before she’d made it halfway across the room.
“I was going to let you in,” she said mildly, dropping her untouched sketch pad down on a side table and sinking into an overstuffed armchair instead. Violet and Emily, taking this as the invitation that it was, dropped down on the settee that Diana and Willingham had debauched the evening before.
Well, perhapsdebauchedwas too strong a word; after all, they had ceased their activities before they’d gotten to any of the truly interesting bits. Nevertheless, Diana carefully avoided contemplating this as her happily oblivious friends made themselves comfortable.
“Would you care to offer an explanation for your behavior today?” Violet asked conversationally.
Diana paused, mock-thoughtful. “Not particularly?” she offered.
This, unsurprisingly, was not deemed a satisfactory response.
“Care to try again?” Violet asked.
“Could you be more specific?” Diana asked, stalling desperately.Emily, seemingly fascinated, was bobbing her head back and forth; Diana wondered what, if anything, Penvale had told them.
“Well,” Violet said, drawing out the word into an improbable number of syllables, “let’s see.” She held up a finger. “You fling Jeremy and Lady Helen together at our picnic today like a puppet master pulling strings.”
“I’d no choice!” Diana protested. “His grandmother was making matrimonial eyes at me and I needed to distract her with someone else to focus on. There aren’t that many unmarried ladies of the party to choose from, you know.”
“Don’t you think this might be taking things a bit far?” Violet asked dubiously.
Diana straightened in her seat in indignation. “That is rich, coming from a lady who spent a fortnight this summerpretending to be dyingrather than just simply telling her husband that she was still in love with him.”
Violet colored slightly. “Well, itworked.”
“Precisely. And if a scheme that unhinged can work out in the end, then I’ve no doubt my more clever approach will meet with similar success.”
“Except that now you’ve inflicted Lady Helen Courtenay upon poor Jeremy!” Violet wailed dramatically. “We’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of him in a fortnight.”
“I think Willingham can take care of himself,” Diana said, unmoved. “Lady Helen already had her eye on him, I’ve just… encouraged her in that direction. All with the aim of getting the dowager marchioness to stop staring at me like I’m a pig on its way to the slaughterhouse.”
“You do have such a romantic view of marriage, Diana,” Violet said, laughter in her voice.
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about Emily’s behavior than mine?” Diana asked, attempting to change the subject. “She needs a chaperone, since Belfry is here.” The last was uttered in a dramatic stage whisper; glancing at Emily, she was delighted to see her blushing.
“That’s what Jeremy’s grandmother is for,” Violet said, waving a dismissive hand.
Diana snorted. “She doesn’t seem to be overly diligent in that role; I’ve scarcely seen her today at all. Emily and Belfry could have slipped away to some dark corner and—”
At this point, Emily interrupted Diana, murmuring something under her breath as her cheeks took on a suspiciously rosy glow.
“I’m sorry,” Diana said, leaning closer. “Did you just say, ‘We might have done’?”
Emily blushed even harder. “Perhaps,” she hedged.
“Emily Turner,” Violet said admiringly, “I have clearly underestimated you.”
