Page 25 of Stealing the Rake's Heart
“History? My dear Lord Alexander, I do not know what you mean.”
Liar,he thought, with a rush of anger.Lies, lies, lies, that’s all I ever heard from you, do you remember?
He didn’t say that, of course. He also didn’t say that when they first met, Alexander’s mourning for his father was just as false as Diana’s mourning for her husband.
Of course, she hadn’t been married then. Engaged, but not married.
“I understand you’ve been left comfortable,” he said, more for the desire to say anything than from any real interest. It wasn’t a proper conversation to have at a ball like this, but Alexander had all but given up on what wasproperor not.
Diana smiled demurely, smoothing her crisp skirts. “Yes, my poor, dear Lord Lockwell left me well provided for. It was his greatest wish that I should live free and happy, God rest his soul.”
Alexander conjured up a memory of Lord Lockwell – a sour-faced, angry little man, somewhere in his fifties, with a nasty streak of spite running through him. He didn’t seem like the self-sacrificing type, to be sure.
“Ahem. Well, I’m glad for it. If you’ll excuse me, Lady Lockwell, I see my mother…”
She surged forward again, hand tightening on his forearm. Alexander clenched his teeth.
At one time, the touch of those long, cool fingers would have sent shivery heat rushing along his skin. It would electrify his spine, forcing the breath from his lungs. He’d be hers, body and soul. He’d believe whatever lies she would choose to feed him.
A fine example of said lies was the promise that she would break off her engagement to the titled, wealthy, and influential Lord Lockwell, and marry an unimportant third son.
Alexander reminded himself firmly of those facts and disengaged his arm.
“Diana, stop this. You shouldn’t have come. You shouldn’t have accepted the invitation.”
Twin spots of colour burned in her cheeks. “The dear Dowager Duchess has no idea of our history, Alex. I should never dream of telling her. If she were to find out, of course, it would be a different matter.”
Was that a threat? It might have been. Alexander didn’t dare probe too deeply. It was all games with Diana, and she always liked to win.
“If I was the scheming woman you think I am,” Diana continued, shuffling closer still, “I should introduce myself to the Duke of Dunleigh himself.”
Alexander clenched his jaw. “I do not think you’re scheming, and I’d thank you not to use words like that at my mother’s ball. As to William, you are entirely welcome to try with him, although I would not recommend it.”
Diana’s expression soured, angry that her bluff had been called. The music dropped, as did her hand. There was a general shuffling on the dance floor behind them, as exhausted couples left the floor only to be replaced by new ones. The next set was beginning.
A mulish set came over Diana’s face. “We should dance, my lord. Come, it’s just beginning.”
No,Alexander thought, panicking.No, no, no.
The lie rose easily to his lips. “I already have a partner for this dance.”
She didn’t believe him, that much was plain to see. He had never been able to lie to Diana – she was too experienced at falsehoods herself to be easily taken in. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alexander saw with chagrin that if he didn’t make his escape quickly, Diana would have him on the dance floor and huddled away in the corner by the end of the night, enough gossip rising up around them to attract even his mother’s notice.
“Good evening, Lady Lockwell,” he gabbled, making a lopsided bow. “I really must go and fetch my partner.”
He turned on his heel, frantically scanning the crowd. Diana did not, of course, move to leave.
“Well, who is she, then?” she demanded, voice thin. “Do point her out to me, darling Alex.”
He swallowed hard. The dance was about to start, and that meant that the ladies standing in the crowd and sitting around the wall were all unengaged. But if Diana made it known that he’d lied about a partner to avoid dancing with her, he would find himself the subject of a great deal of censure. The gossip columns would pick up on it, people would talk about it, and his mother would be shamed.
Ungentlemanly behaviour, they would call it, heads shaking.And the brother of the Duke of Dunleigh, too! Shameful.
Alexander would not allow that to happen, so he had better choose a woman who would agree to dance with him at the last moment.
And then a miracle happened.
A familiar figure moved forward out of the crowd, just a step, half turned away from him to look at the dance floor.
