spoke as if he voiced an idle curiosity.
She stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Because if I thought that you would say yes, I might be badly tempted.”
“I want a promise that if I stay with Jeanette you will never yield to that temptation.”
“I cannot give such a promise. Like most men, I usually leave the progression of such things to the woman, as I did with you the other night. You did not really want to stop and it could have easily ended differently. One more kiss, one more caress—that I did not take that step should reassure you now more than any glib promise.”
“You astonish me. You say in one breath that you expect nothing of me, and in the next that if you did I would not resist you.”
“You demanded honesty and I am giving it.”
Too much honesty. It was embarrassing to have her weakness so bluntly described. Nor did his indication that the future of her virtue lay completely in her hands, reassure her.
Because she
had
been weak, and he unsettled her so much that she did not know whether she could be strong again.
She dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers twisted together, much like the confusing snarl of her reactions and emotions.
“Diane.” It was a quiet call for her attention. One word, commanding and gentle at the same time.
She looked up. He stood before the hearth, dark and dangerously handsome. The flames peeked around the sides of his legs as if the fire had given him his substance. His gaze compelled her attention.
Her childhood name for him leaped into her mind, more appropriate than she had ever guessed. The Devil Man. A prince of temptation.
“Diane, do you want me to take that next step? Do you want to be my lover?”
Shock almost stole her voice. “I certainly
do not.
”
He came over to her. She shrank against the chair in a vain attempt to keep some distance.
He lifted her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes, rendering her incapable of resistance. His rough thumb swept across her cheek and a scandalous thrill snaked down to her heart.
“You are lying. You are not at all certain.”
He dropped his hand and walked to the door. “Consider my sister’s offer. It is a chance to have some kind of life. And you are safe from me, for many reasons.”
chapter
9
D iane, this is the Countess of Glasbury,” Jeanette said.
The visitor sitting in the London drawing room had dark hair and fair skin and eyes that sparkled with warmth. She was much younger than Jeanette, not much older than Diane herself. She did not appear nearly as proud as the French countesses whom Diane had seen in the Tuileries or at the opera.
The eyes might be friendly, but they inspected her all the same. “What a lovely young woman you are, Diane. She will be a magnet for attention, Jeanette. I expect that my brothers will fall in love as soon as they meet her.”
“As it happens, one of them has already met her,” Daniel said.
Diane turned to the window. She had not noticed Daniel when she entered the drawing room.
“One of the countess’s brothers is Vergil Duclairc, whom you met in Paris,” he explained.
“You have met Vergil? That is wonderful. We expect his return from Paris any day, so there will be one familiar face for you.”
Diane doubted the countess would be so enthusiastic if she knew the circumstances of that first meeting, and the purpose of Margot’s
petit salon.
“The countess has agreed to be your chaperon when you attend assemblies and balls,” Jeanette explained.
“Only until we can coax you to attend them yourself, Jeanette,” the countess said. “I will be giving a dinner party this week, on Thursday. Daniel, perhaps you and your cousin would join us. I will have the invitation sent at once and expect your acceptance. It would have been extended earlier if I had known you were returning to London.” She leaned toward Diane, as if making a confidence. “It will not be a large group. You should find it an easy introduction.”
She took her
She stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Because if I thought that you would say yes, I might be badly tempted.”
“I want a promise that if I stay with Jeanette you will never yield to that temptation.”
“I cannot give such a promise. Like most men, I usually leave the progression of such things to the woman, as I did with you the other night. You did not really want to stop and it could have easily ended differently. One more kiss, one more caress—that I did not take that step should reassure you now more than any glib promise.”
“You astonish me. You say in one breath that you expect nothing of me, and in the next that if you did I would not resist you.”
“You demanded honesty and I am giving it.”
Too much honesty. It was embarrassing to have her weakness so bluntly described. Nor did his indication that the future of her virtue lay completely in her hands, reassure her.
Because she
had
been weak, and he unsettled her so much that she did not know whether she could be strong again.
She dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers twisted together, much like the confusing snarl of her reactions and emotions.
“Diane.” It was a quiet call for her attention. One word, commanding and gentle at the same time.
She looked up. He stood before the hearth, dark and dangerously handsome. The flames peeked around the sides of his legs as if the fire had given him his substance. His gaze compelled her attention.
Her childhood name for him leaped into her mind, more appropriate than she had ever guessed. The Devil Man. A prince of temptation.
“Diane, do you want me to take that next step? Do you want to be my lover?”
Shock almost stole her voice. “I certainly
do not.
”
He came over to her. She shrank against the chair in a vain attempt to keep some distance.
He lifted her chin in his hand and gazed into her eyes, rendering her incapable of resistance. His rough thumb swept across her cheek and a scandalous thrill snaked down to her heart.
“You are lying. You are not at all certain.”
He dropped his hand and walked to the door. “Consider my sister’s offer. It is a chance to have some kind of life. And you are safe from me, for many reasons.”
chapter
9
D iane, this is the Countess of Glasbury,” Jeanette said.
The visitor sitting in the London drawing room had dark hair and fair skin and eyes that sparkled with warmth. She was much younger than Jeanette, not much older than Diane herself. She did not appear nearly as proud as the French countesses whom Diane had seen in the Tuileries or at the opera.
The eyes might be friendly, but they inspected her all the same. “What a lovely young woman you are, Diane. She will be a magnet for attention, Jeanette. I expect that my brothers will fall in love as soon as they meet her.”
“As it happens, one of them has already met her,” Daniel said.
Diane turned to the window. She had not noticed Daniel when she entered the drawing room.
“One of the countess’s brothers is Vergil Duclairc, whom you met in Paris,” he explained.
“You have met Vergil? That is wonderful. We expect his return from Paris any day, so there will be one familiar face for you.”
Diane doubted the countess would be so enthusiastic if she knew the circumstances of that first meeting, and the purpose of Margot’s
petit salon.
“The countess has agreed to be your chaperon when you attend assemblies and balls,” Jeanette explained.
“Only until we can coax you to attend them yourself, Jeanette,” the countess said. “I will be giving a dinner party this week, on Thursday. Daniel, perhaps you and your cousin would join us. I will have the invitation sent at once and expect your acceptance. It would have been extended earlier if I had known you were returning to London.” She leaned toward Diane, as if making a confidence. “It will not be a large group. You should find it an easy introduction.”
She took her
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