mouth, “and you must call me Henry.” The sudden, unwanted attraction he was experiencing was untenable between Mr. Weston and Miss Merriwether. Between Henry and Diana, it was slightly more palatable.
“Using your Christian name would be improper.”
He laughed. “I could have a great deal of fun teaching you the joys of impropriety.”
“You’re very kind to want to help me, but if you think on it, you will see there’s no way your plan could ever work. We should go inside. My mother will be wondering where I am.”
Henry refused to give up so easily. But if he couldn’t persuade Diana with logic, he would try a different tack.
“You’re right,” he said and began leading her toward the house. “Forgive me. It was a foolish idea. It could never possibly work.”
“Yes, I believe I said that,” she replied cautiously, obviously thrown by his quick capitulation.
“I’d forgotten the most important part of such a courtship,” he explained.
“Which is?”
“Believability.”
Her shoulders hunched as she shrank into herself. “No one would believe you would be interested in me.”
Henry ushered her inside, but instead of heading for the stairs, he took a chance and opened the nearest door. The library. As luck would have it, the room was empty. Well, he’d always had that rogue’s knack for finding empty rooms in strange houses at opportune times. He tugged Diana inside and moved to shut the door.
“Mr. Weston! Have you taken leave of your senses?” Diana’s hand shot out, bracing against the door. She was going to bolt.
He lifted his hand from the door and stepped back a few paces into the room, holding both hands up, palms out. “Wait, Diana—Miss Merriwether,” he corrected himself. “Please, wait. You misunderstood me. I meant that it would be impossible for
you
to maintain the illusion of interest in
me
.”
She turned on him, her expression shocked, all thoughts of the door and propriety forgotten. He’d succeeded in removing her mask. How long until she noticed and put it back on?
“Do you take me for a fool, Mr. Weston?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know very well you are a catch. Most of the women upstairs would give their eyeteeth to have a chance with you.”
“Then I’m sure they could hold up their half of the courtship very well. I could convincingly play the part of a besotted fool. But you…”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You believe your plan wouldn’t work because I couldn’t affect infatuation?”
He nodded, trying to look dejected.
“I could, but no one will believe you’ve taken an interest in me.”
“Why not?”
“B-because you are you, and I am me,” she stammered.
“I see.” He smiled and took a step toward her. “You know, you’re quite pretty when flustered.”
“I am not flustered.”
“You’re not used to compliments, are you?”
“I’m not accustomed to being lied to, no.”
“I’m not lying.” He wasn’t. Though it had escaped his notice all these years, Diana was actually a very pretty girl.
No, not a girl—a woman—and pretty wasn’t the right word. Fresh-faced English roses were pretty. Diana was a lily—tall and slender, pale and elegant. Hers was a quiet beauty, one easily overlooked in the loud glitter of a packed ballroom. Even he, who considered himself a devotee of the fair sex, hadn’t seen her beauty until tonight.
His attention would take the blinders off the gentlemen in their circles, and by the end of the Season, Diana would have suitors aplenty. She would gain every bit as much from his scheme as he would, maybe more. Besides, he didn’t have ingenious ideas very often; he wouldn’t give this one up without a fight.
The kid gloves were coming off.
“It seems we’re at a crossroads,” he said, taking another step closer. “Neither of us believes the other is capable of pretending sufficient attraction for a convincing courtship. We must conduct an
“Using your Christian name would be improper.”
He laughed. “I could have a great deal of fun teaching you the joys of impropriety.”
“You’re very kind to want to help me, but if you think on it, you will see there’s no way your plan could ever work. We should go inside. My mother will be wondering where I am.”
Henry refused to give up so easily. But if he couldn’t persuade Diana with logic, he would try a different tack.
“You’re right,” he said and began leading her toward the house. “Forgive me. It was a foolish idea. It could never possibly work.”
“Yes, I believe I said that,” she replied cautiously, obviously thrown by his quick capitulation.
“I’d forgotten the most important part of such a courtship,” he explained.
“Which is?”
“Believability.”
Her shoulders hunched as she shrank into herself. “No one would believe you would be interested in me.”
Henry ushered her inside, but instead of heading for the stairs, he took a chance and opened the nearest door. The library. As luck would have it, the room was empty. Well, he’d always had that rogue’s knack for finding empty rooms in strange houses at opportune times. He tugged Diana inside and moved to shut the door.
“Mr. Weston! Have you taken leave of your senses?” Diana’s hand shot out, bracing against the door. She was going to bolt.
He lifted his hand from the door and stepped back a few paces into the room, holding both hands up, palms out. “Wait, Diana—Miss Merriwether,” he corrected himself. “Please, wait. You misunderstood me. I meant that it would be impossible for
you
to maintain the illusion of interest in
me
.”
She turned on him, her expression shocked, all thoughts of the door and propriety forgotten. He’d succeeded in removing her mask. How long until she noticed and put it back on?
“Do you take me for a fool, Mr. Weston?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You know very well you are a catch. Most of the women upstairs would give their eyeteeth to have a chance with you.”
“Then I’m sure they could hold up their half of the courtship very well. I could convincingly play the part of a besotted fool. But you…”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You believe your plan wouldn’t work because I couldn’t affect infatuation?”
He nodded, trying to look dejected.
“I could, but no one will believe you’ve taken an interest in me.”
“Why not?”
“B-because you are you, and I am me,” she stammered.
“I see.” He smiled and took a step toward her. “You know, you’re quite pretty when flustered.”
“I am not flustered.”
“You’re not used to compliments, are you?”
“I’m not accustomed to being lied to, no.”
“I’m not lying.” He wasn’t. Though it had escaped his notice all these years, Diana was actually a very pretty girl.
No, not a girl—a woman—and pretty wasn’t the right word. Fresh-faced English roses were pretty. Diana was a lily—tall and slender, pale and elegant. Hers was a quiet beauty, one easily overlooked in the loud glitter of a packed ballroom. Even he, who considered himself a devotee of the fair sex, hadn’t seen her beauty until tonight.
His attention would take the blinders off the gentlemen in their circles, and by the end of the Season, Diana would have suitors aplenty. She would gain every bit as much from his scheme as he would, maybe more. Besides, he didn’t have ingenious ideas very often; he wouldn’t give this one up without a fight.
The kid gloves were coming off.
“It seems we’re at a crossroads,” he said, taking another step closer. “Neither of us believes the other is capable of pretending sufficient attraction for a convincing courtship. We must conduct an
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