A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess (In War and Love #3)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Dancing Card

T he air at the Ashford ball was thick with the scent of beeswax and roses, laced with champagne and anticipation. On the balcony above, a quartet played a lively waltz, the melody weaving through the grand ballroom as couples twirled in effortless synchrony. The chandelier cast a golden glow, catching the glimmer of jewels adorning elegantly dressed ladies, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation.

It was a night spun from magic, but Diana was not appreciating it There was one thing that would make this night truly enchanting. Him.

“How do the Ashfords manage to create such an atmosphere in their balls?” Selina seemed charmed.

“I think it has more to do with the fact that they want their guests to enjoy themselves,” Richard said. “After all, Lady Ashford is a gentle, calm woman.”

“Diana?” Selina turned to her sister. “Are you looking for someone?”

Diana immediately schooled her expression and tore her eyes away from the entrance. “More like some thing . I heard that the Ashfords’ cook makes good Italian pastry. I would like to try it.”

Selina narrowed her eyes at her. “Sure. Italian pastry. Though I doubt that the Ashfords had placed their buffet outside.”

“Dear Diana, you seem awfully fixated on the entrance.” Richard hastened to assist his wife.

“How predictable of you both. A woman so much as glances toward the door and suddenly she is pining,” Diana scoffed.

“Not pining, but perhaps interested,” Richard said with a smile.

Selina stepped closer and looped her arm through Diana’s, smiling that mischievous smile of hers. “Tell me, my sweet sister, how are the promenades?”

Ah, so pleasurable, Diana was ready to admit, but she held back.

“They are going well,” she answered.

Richard threw his head back and laughed. “That is the vague answer I give my accountant when he inquires about expenses, Diana.”

“Well, that is all you’ll get,” Diana huffed.

“Oh, I would hate to think that you are suffering because of that auction,” Selina said in a mock dramatic tone.

Diana turned to her sister with an arched eyebrow. “You can sleep in peace, my gold-hearted sister,” she drawled.

“That can only mean you find the promenades… agreeable.” Selina smiled.

And then some.

Diana smiled back. But she knew she had to give Selina something more, or else her persistent sister would pester her.

“I must admit that Lord Crawford is a skilled conversationalist, which makes the whole experience tolerable.”

“I am glad to hear that Lord Crawford has been… devoted to his duties.”

“Devoted is hardly the word I would use,” Diana deadpanned.

“Oh?” Selina raised an eyebrow. “And what word would you use, then?”

Wicked. Infuriating. Impossible. Maddening. Thorough.

Diana had a very long list to choose from, but she kept her ideas to herself.

“I’d say he is dutiful and polite,” she offered.

“I have been friends with Crawford all my life, and I think it’s the first time someone called him dutiful and polite.” Richard chuckled.

“Truth be told, I didn’t expect him to be so…”

“Charming,” Selina supplied.

“Accomplished,” Diana corrected.

“You expected him to be an unpolished rake, did you not?” Richard said with a satisfied smile. “Did he tell you he was the captain of Eton Society?”

Diana blushed as she remembered that conversation and where it led. She suppressed her emotions and focused on how heart-warming it was to see Richard proud of James.

“Yes, it did come up. We spoke about philosophy,” Diana admitted.

She thought that emphasizing that their conversations revolved around boring topics would be enough for Selina and Richard to think that the promenades were innocuous. Selina sure seemed disappointed, but Richard gave her an assessing look.

What?

Diana had no time to dwell on that, since the butler announced in his firm, loud voice, “His Grace the Duke of Pemberton, and the Most Honorable the Marquess of Crawford.”

The moment James was announced, Diana felt her treacherous heart flutter. Her eyes darted across the gilded ballroom to the stairs, where he was standing. Her breath hitched.

He was wearing a black evening coat and a dark waistcoat that fit his powerful frame to perfection and accentuated his sharp features, bringing out the blue of his eyes. James had always been striking, but tonight he was something more.

Yet, unlike the other ladies of the ton, who looked at him like he was the famous Italian pastry, Diana knew that the difference was not in his appearance. She noticed his tense jaw and his severe expression, his stiff shoulders and the way his lips were pressed into a thin line. Something heavy was weighing him down tonight.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Richard’s voice brought her back to the present.

She glanced at him as he weaved through the crowd to meet with James. She scowled at how tense Richard looked, how worried and how anxious.

Selina leaned in. “That is James’s father,” she explained.

Diana studied the old man by James’s side. If her fixation allowed, she would have seen the resemblance at once. She also noticed that she was not the only one studying the Duke. Wherever he went, conversations died down, and almost all the guests whispered behind bejeweled hands and fans.

“It seems that he is back in London for good,” Selina commented.

“Where was he?”

“He was in their country estate. There was a rumor…” Selina hesitated. “There was a rumor that he went mad.”

“Mad?”

Diana studied the Duke again. He seemed composed and civilized, though his steps seemed weary.

“Only according to the rumors.”

“But what happened?” Diana asked, intrigued.

“No one knows for certain,” Selina admitted. “Not even Richard knows for sure—or if he knows, he hasn’t shared that with me. All I know is that the rumors began after James’s mother died. Some say grief drove the Duke into seclusion. Others say it was something more… serious.”

Diana felt a lump clogging her throat. She realized that the infuriating man who teased her, who challenged her, who set her body on fire, was a real person. A person with scars of his own, not just that polished facade he let everyone see.

“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”

She remembered the quote that she found so seductive. Now, she saw it under a new light.

She looked for him in the crowd. It was so easy to spot him, his frame towering over everyone. Even if he wanted to hide, it was impossible.

He was speaking to Richard, his face impassive, his body language a study in careful control. Diana willed him to look at her.

The ball was in full swing, but Diana was fuming. James hadn’t even spared her a glance. And she could only surmise that it was deliberate. Back at Herbert’s, he had made a point of saying that they would meet at the Ashford ball. Had practically promised it. And now? Now, he was ignoring her as if she didn’t exist.

Diana was patient and understanding. The fact that his father was re-entering Society must be taxing. She would be happy to be acknowledged even from across the room. A nod of the head, a tense smirk. She would answer with an honest smile to let him know that she understood. But being so blatantly overlooked? So pointedly ignored?

Diana took a deep breath. She was being foolish, and she knew it.

If James was determined to treat her like any other one of the ladies in attendance tonight, if he had decided to spend the evening avoiding her, then she would simply spend it elsewhere. It was indeed a beautiful night, and she had every intention of enjoying herself. Now that she was in the spotlight, she might as well bathe in the warmth.

As if by divine intervention, she saw Lord Hexter approach her.

Perfect .

Diana gave him her widest smile.

“My Lady, I must insist that you do me the honor of granting me your first dance.”

“I am afraid this dance is mine.” The eldest son of the Viscount Sherton bowed to her.

Diana realized that somewhere between debating philosophy and experiencing lessons in pleasure, she had nearly forgotten that she was still one of the most sought-after ladies this Season.

“Gentlemen, you flatter me. I am so fortunate to have two gentlemen of your station insisting on a dance with me.” She gave them a warm smile. Both men seemed mesmerized by it.

The notoriously daring Lord Sherton leaned in. “The ton is fortunate to bask in your presence, My Lady.”

Comically transparent, but Diana managed to hide her smirk behind her fan—a gesture Lord Sherton took as a victory.

“Lord Hexter, I believe I owe you a dance.” She gave the man her hand.

“My Lady.” Lord Sherton pretended to be wounded.

“The anticipation of our dance will be rewarding enough, I hope.”

Not bad for a jilted wallflower, Diana had to admit to herself as Lord Hexter led her to the middle of the ballroom. He was a poised and good dancer, but his movements lacked the same thing his conversation did—interest. He was…safe.

At least Lord Sherton was more entertaining. He danced confidently, and he pulled her close, teasing the bounds of propriety. He seemed thrilled and emboldened to see her not shocked but amused by his attention.

“Lady Diana, you have brought upon me the envy of every man here.”

“Is that so?”

“How can it be any other way? I am holding the most beautiful lady here.”

How transparently flirtatious, but Diana found herself amused rather than annoyed.

“So, you are under the impression that every gentleman is desperate for my attention?”

“I know they are.” Lord Sherton cast a daring look down her body. “How could they not?”

“Well, that remains to be seen, My Lord.”

The reality was that Lord Sherton was right. Men were vying for her attention. They lingered close for the opportunity to put their names on her dance card. Diana never thought that she would enjoy the attention. She who took pride in her steadfast indifference to such pursuits was now savoring the attention.

There was hardly any room anymore in her once empty dance card, and she doubted that the quartet had such a wide repertoire to accommodate all the gentlemen who wanted to dance with her.

She didn’t stop. She didn’t slip away. She forgot about the Italian pastry. She twirled around the dance floor. She laughed at slightly amusing comments. She held men’s gazes in a way that made them flush.

Diana was having fun. After so long, after years of unattainable dignity, she felt… powerful.

But even in her blissful state, she had not expected the most eligible bachelor of the ton to approach her. Lord Ainsley had never noticed her, and he had never called on her. Yet, now he bowed to her.

“Lady Diana, it would simply be a crime to allow such an evening to pass without the pleasure of dancing with you.”

The whole of the ton held their breaths. Even Selina joyously hummed next to her. Lord Ainsley was the most sought-after bachelor, the one mamas were throwing their daughters at. He was handsome and rich, well-mannered and reliable.

“Then I suppose I must do my part to prevent such a heinous crime, My Lord,” Diana said sweetly, placing her gloved hand in his.

She felt all eyes on them as he led her to the dance floor. The other couples were looking at them openly. Yet, one thought slipped through her triumphant moment.

Is he watching?

Lord Ainsley was a proper dancer. If she thought Richard was a stickler for rules, she quickly reconsidered. After all, he had married her sister. But Lord Ainsley painted inside the lines. Always. He held her at a respectable distance, their waltz smooth and measured.

“You are an excellent dancer, My Lord,” Diana remarked.

“That is the mark of a good partner, Lady Diana. A waltz should be effortless.”

“Do you find all things to be effortless, My Lord?”

He smiled a reserved smile. “Of course. A well-ordered life and a quiet marriage with comforts to enjoy.”

Diana maintained her smile while she fought the urge to check if he had a pulse. The way he said ‘quiet marriage’ and ‘comforts’… It made her skin crawl. And yet, not so long ago, she too had longed for quiet and comfortable. Now? Now, she was changed.

And she was under no illusion about who brought about that change. It was all him . James had taught her this. Not just with his stolen kisses and wicked hands, but with his presence. With the way he saw her, the way he perceived her, the way he saw past her nickname. He had changed her, she had to admit as much. He had unlocked something inside her, and she had walked right through, emerging confident.

Thinking of him made her miss him. Before she could stop herself, she did what she deliberately didn’t do all night—seek him out.

She scanned the sea of faces and found him immediately. There was no way a man like him could fade in the background even if he tried. What she didn’t expect was to meet his gaze. She barely held her breath when his eyes locked onto hers.

Oh.

His gaze struck her like a blade, sharp, unyielding, meant to carve itself into her skin. There was no softness in it, no teasing glint or playful arrogance. Just something dark and primal, something that burned too hot and settled too deep.

His gaze dropped to where Lord Ainsley’s hand rested on her waist, then flicked back to hers, smug and dark. He knew . He knew that Lord Ainsley’s hands wouldn’t make her gasp in pleasure.

Her body tingled with awareness, and she fought to keep her composure. The dance ended, but she barely noticed.

Lord Ainsley took her hand and kissed it in a proper way. “It was an absolute pleasure, My Lady.”

Diana had to will herself to look at him, a pleasant smile on her trembling lips. “I am so happy, My Lord, that we prevented a crime.”

If he appreciated her wit, he didn’t show it. But he did look at her with interest, as if he was considering a possibility.

“May I call on you, My Lady?”

“It would be nice to discuss the trials of life, My Lord.”

“And the security of it,” he added.

Diana opened her mouth, but no words came out. Lord Ainsley chuckled as if it was him who had rendered her speechless. It wasn’t.

Behind him, James moved.

He didn’t rush—he didn’t need to. He walked like a feral beast among tame animals, his look dark and predatory, all aimed at her. He was coming for her with a clear warning. She had taunted the beast, and now she would find out how it was to be a prey.

Diana didn’t care. Her pulse thrummed with exhilaration. She lifted her chin ever so slightly, her lips curling into the smallest, most imperceptible smirk.

She had done this. She had made him move.