Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
The Path Ahead
“ L ord Crawford calling on you, Lady Diana.”
Diana was glad she was holding a brush instead of a needle this time. Even so, a long line of dark blue completely ruined her beautifully painted garden.
Leave it to Lord Crawford to ruin beautiful things—this painting, her morning, her peace.
She turned to the butler, having decided to turn the Marquess away with an excuse—his well-being, most of all—when a shadow in the hallway made her spine stiffen.
He stepped inside. Without invitation.
Suddenly, the drawing room shrank as he filled it with his presence. Diana’s fingers tightened around the brush—a lifeline as the air rushed out of her lungs.
Under the candlelight, he was dangerously alluring, but the sweet light softened things that were not soft, like the veneer of a civilized gentleman. Broad daylight offered no such mercy. He almost looked savage, all sharp lines and angles.
But Diana was not ready to back away so easily. His smug smile told her he was there to annoy her, probably bored with his other games. She was going to prove to him that not all games are meant to be won.
“Ah, Lord Crawford,” she greeted, breaking the silence. “What a surprise.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I was rather hoping that I was relieved of my sentence.”
“Sentence, My Lady?”
“How else would you describe five promenades with you, My Lord?”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. She had not meant to enjoy the sound of it. But— darn it! —he caught that.
He came closer, just enough, at the edge of propriety. He bowed and took her hand in his gloved one.
Diana’s heart skipped a beat as his breath caressed her skin. Yet, his lips didn’t touch her. Somehow, that was worse. Her fingers twitched—just slightly, just enough for him to notice.
His eyes flicked up, catching the movement, catching her . His lips curled into a wicked, knowing smile. A challenge.
“Ahem.” Elizabeth cleared her throat, making her presence known.
Thank you!
Diana was grateful for her steadfast chaperone. She could always rely on Elizabeth to keep her safe and sane. As long she was in the room, all was well.
Surely, Elizabeth wouldn’t fall for the Marquess’s parlor tricks.
Betrayal.
Wasn’t she the one who swore up and down that she wouldn’t allow ‘a treacherous scoundrel’ to be alone with her for one moment? What exactly was she doing, laughing at his preposterous stories?
“So, I tried to make the best of the situation…” His voice was filled with mirth. “… and guided her to the nearest table, where she somehow made sure that a vase was broken.”
“Oh, you are incorrigible!” Elizabeth laughed.
“Well, it was a gift from a distant aunt, a horrendous piece of art—and I am stretching the use of the word—that deserved to be broken into pieces. Ending her pursuit in a river of apologies and embarrassment was just a bonus.”
Elizabeth laughed even harder, and when she threw her head back, the Marquess turned his focus on Diana. She didn’t have time to school her expression, so he caught her murderous thoughts, and somehow that made him smile darkly at her.
That smile must have conveyed a bold message because Diana watched with dread as Elizabeth rose, took her book with her, and made herself comfortable on the armchair by the window. She felt like a general watching his troops abandoning him, leaving him with a very determined opponent if she were to assume from Lord Crawford’s too-wide smile.
“So, Lady Diana? How about our promenade?”
“How about it?” Diana quipped, hoping the tone of her voice would make the idea of promenades sound as charming as a lake filled with crocodiles.
“Would you like to go for a walk? The weather is splendid.” He raised an eyebrow.
The look Diana gave him could have turned the splendid day into a raging winter storm, and yet he took it in his stride and smiled wider.
Diana knew he was toying with her, and she knew that he knew that she knew, and somehow that was worse.
“Would you like to go to St. James Park?” He openly showed her what he thought of her threatening glances.
“Do I really have a choice?”
His smile dropped instantly, and his already straight back straightened even more as he leaned away from her slightly.
“Lady Diana, I assure you, you always have a choice.” His tone was not strict but serious, and somehow that made it comforting.
The air shifted a little, and his amusement was distilled with consideration, as if he really valued her choices.
It shook her, but rather than dwell on that new emotion, she said, “Well, I suppose, unwillingly or not, I became part of a deal that I wish to honor.” She got up suddenly. “St. James Park is just fine.”
“Do you wish for me to wait for you to get ready?” he asked as he rose respectfully.
Diana looked back at him with surprise. Did the man think that she was going to rush upstairs and wear her best dress, find the perfect hat and gloves?
Such a spoiled rake. Women must have been tripping over themselves to land at his feet, so he was used to a road paved with female victims of his charms.
“No, I just need to fetch my accessories and let Mrs. Bremford know that we are going out.”
The message was clear—this was a duty, not pleasure.
“Just as well…” He fixed her with an intense look. “You already look lovely.”
That…
Diana pursed her lips, angry with herself for allowing him to have the final word.
It was going to be a long promenade.
St. James’s Park was alive with the hum of the fashionable crowd. Ladies in pastel gowns and gentlemen in crisp waistcoats strolled along the manicured paths, stopping only to murmur pleasantries or cast lingering glances at potential matches. The air was fresh, touched with the scent of budding flowers. The promise of spring was in the air.
Yet, to Diana, it might as well have been a battlefield. Because in a way, it was. She really wished it would start raining, so she would have to run back to her parlor and cross the first promenade off her to-do list.
“I am wondering—” James started.
“I am sure you do,” Diana huffed.
“I am wondering,” he continued, undeterred, “if you find my company so deplorable as your expression conveys.”
“I pride myself on keeping my expression neutral.”
“Really? I would have thought otherwise looking at you, My Lady.”
“Everything has a limit, My Lord,” she said matter-of-factly. “Though, I am sure you are delightful company. To yourself.”
“I must say, I do find myself charming and amusing.”
“How about you spend more time with yourself, then?” Diana smiled.
“Where is the fun in that?”
“Where is the fun in this?”
“I beg to differ,” James said. “I find myself the most entertained I have been as of late.”
“And by as of late, I am guessing you mean since last night. I’d be amazed to find that your attention span went further than a day, My Lord.”
James chuckled and nodded at a passing couple who stared at them openly.
Diana was fully aware of what they were staring at. First of all, their height difference was… substantial. Then, their ranks were literal opposites. And if that wasn’t enough, their dispositions were overtly different.
“Now, My Lady, do not spoil the mood,” James murmured as if reading her mind.
“ Your mood, My Lord. I am afraid there is little to be done about mine.”
“I am known to… lighten ladies’ moods.”
The wicked comment earned James a side glance and a huff.
“You are insufferable.”
Diana almost threw her hands up in the air in triumph. He clenched his jaw and looked at her in disbelief. He was a rather skilled charmer, but she was proving not to be impressed.
“Insufferable? Is that envy I detect in your voice, My Lady?”
“Envy? It must be so great for one to live in one’s world. Perhaps you are right, My Lord. I do envy you for that.”
“You envy me because I dare to live the way I want, whereas you, My Lady, don’t.”
“How presumptuous of you.”
“You say presumptuous, I say honest. Tell me, My Lady, were you ever tempted to do what you truly wanted?”
Diana was never one to throw a fit, weep, or lash out, but she was close to doing all that.
The gall .
The ease with which he said things no gentleman should ever say…
“Look, squirrels,” she said flatly. “If we can locate a few females, My Lord, we can appease your need to flirt with every breathing, walking being.”
“Not any breathing, walking being. Just you.”
“For the next hour, I presume.”
He scowled. He was sure that using the word ‘tempted’ would rattle her and she would blush. He schooled his expression, but Diana gave him a fake smile that said she knew that this round was hers. Not that she was keeping score, of course.
“Lady Diana, you wound me,” he said in the most blatantly fake way possible.
“I assure you I do not,” she threatened.
“Still, your words strike truer than any blade.”
“Have you been struck by a blade, My Lord?”
“I cannot say I have. I avoid violence at all costs.”
“Pity.” Diana smiled. “I avoided violence at all costs as well, but lately, that decision has been seriously tried.”
“Judging by your sharp tongue, My Lady, I would guess you are battle-ready. This way perhaps, My Lady?” He gallantly led her before she retorted.
For a while, they walked down a beautiful path shaded by trees, a bit far off the usually frequented ones. Diana had a troubling suspicion that he led them there out of concern, having noticed how demanding it was for her to maintain her composure under the ton’s scrutiny. But she shook that thought away. That meant that the Marquess had considered her feelings—which was an absolutely absurd thought.
“So, how do you feel, being auctioned off like an ancient vase?” he asked out of the blue.
Diana looked up at him with a glare that said, Where did that come from?
“I am guessing part of your… mood is attributed to this.” James shrugged.
“At least I am not shattered yet.”
“Oh, so you were listening!” he exclaimed, amused. “And here I was thinking I was wasting one of my favorite stories only to your sister-in-law’s amusement.”
“I am sure you got more stories like that to keep ladies amused, My Lord.”
James smiled, slow and lazy, but his eyes didn’t reflect his mirth. They were too steady, too knowing, like a wolf playing with his prey before killing it.
This infuriating man was not just a rake. He was dangerous. He should be declared illegal.
Diana turned her attention to the flora of the park to keep herself in check, calculating the proper duration of a promenade so she could be released from his company.
“My Lady, I understand that this unfortunate auction has redrawn the ton’s attention to your person. Most women of your standing would be delighted by that turn of events,” he mused.
Diana’s fury flared, and her hands curled into a fist. She took a sharp breath.
“I suppose you find it unfathomable that a woman might prefer not to be claimed like a prize?”
“No, I don’t.”
What?
Diana had devised a perfect layout of how the conversation would go. He would dismiss her wish to stay unmarried and degrade it to a petulant child’s tantrum, to which she would answer accordingly. Then, he would say, “That is the fate of a lady like you,” and possibly add a flirtatious joke, to which she would retort firmly. But now, all the hard work she did in her mind flew out of the window because of his firm, serious no .
She turned her head to study him, searching his face for some hint of mockery. But there was none. He was taking her answer seriously.
“That surprises you,” he noted.
Diana hesitated. “It does.”
“You did not think me capable of these opinions.”
“I did not.” She could not deny it.
“Ah. You thought that I found it natural for a woman to seek a marriage that would allow her husband to continue his debauchery while she smiled prettily for the sake of appearances.”
Diana blinked. Those were supposed to be her lines. Even better worded than she would have said herself. And, worst of all, he seemed honest—as honest as a man of his reputation could be.
“Exactly,” she could only answer. “And how about you, My Lord? Do you intend to marry?”
She immediately regretted asking the question because it elicited a genuine laugh from him. And to see him laugh, truly laugh, was a dangerous sight. His face softened, his blue eyes became even brighter, and his body rippled in a way that no laughter should provoke.
“Oh, My Lady. That would take some serious imagination on anyone’s part. Me, Lord Crawford, the absolute rake, domesticated. A loving husband and a doting father.” He shook his head.
Diana should have seen the insult, the recklessness in his words, but her womanly instincts picked up something more akin to bitterness. She had the crazy idea that perhaps despite his rakish ways, this man wanted exactly the very thing he renounced—being a husband and a father. She sensed that perhaps he wanted to belong.
He turned to her and leaned closer, and the glint in his eyes made her mind go blank.
Was she right? Did he really want to ? —?
“You see, Lady Diana, we are not so different, you and I,” he purred.
And it’s gone.
All those senseless thoughts of him being forlorn were blown into smithereens when that seductive smile spread across his face.
The man was a rake through and through.
“I think, My Lady, that you and I may be the only sane people in the ton,” he said and patted the hand she had on his arm.
“I do not know what I dread the most. What your definition of sane is or the fact that whatever it is, you put me in the same category as you,” Diana deadpanned.
He laughed again, but this time, Diana was wise enough to avert her gaze and resume the calculation of the appropriate duration of a promenade.