Nicole Jordan (6 page)

Steeling herself for another lethal assault on her senses, Diana opened her eyes to find Thorne standing before her. He wore boots and breeches now, and a cambric shirt open at the neck. Below the strong column of his throat, she could see the fine golden hairs of his chest. Involuntarily her gaze swept downward again, following the tapering line of his torso to his loins.

Flushing at the brazen images branded on her memory, Diana tore her gaze away and glanced up at Thorne’s face—which was her second mistake.

His fair hair had dried to a tousled mass of gold, and a few errant locks spilled carelessly over his forehead, as if he’d just risen from his bed. His sensual mouth was curved in a lazy smile that instantly set her heart aflutter, while his stunning, long-lashed hazel eyes glimmered with the frank interest that had held her riveted on the beach.

He was gorgeous and fascinating, a lethal combination, Diana warned herself.

When she realized she was staring again, she muttered a silent oath and sat upright. Thorne was studying her in turn, no longer dismissing her as he had when she’d given him Nathaniel’s letter.

Unsettled by his blatant assessment, Diana took a sip of juice and cleared her throat. “I apologize for invading your privacy earlier, my lord. I should have waited for a more opportune moment.”

“I’m not sorry,” Thorne remarked easily as he seated himself across the table from her. “Now that we have become so…intimately acquainted, we needn’t stand on ceremony. After all, you are cousin to my ward, which I presume makes us some sort of relation.”

He poured himself a tall glass of juice, then returned his gaze to Diana. “Nathaniel told me a bit about you, but he didn’t say you were a beauty.”

Her lips twisted wryly. “Just how am I supposed to respond to such a bold remark? If I demur, then I will seem coy, yet if I agree, I will only appear vain. But perhaps that is your aim—to render me speechless.”

His brilliant grin flashed in appreciation. “A pity you are wise to my tactics.” Thorne regarded her over the rim of his glass. “I confess I have been curious about you, Miss Sheridan. I’ve known the Lunsford family since my university days when I developed a friendship with Nathaniel, but I never met you. You lived at Lunsford Hall all that time?”

“Yes. My uncle and aunt took me in when I was a child, after my parents died in a carriage accident.”

“But you seem to have hidden yourself away like a hermit. You never accompanied your cousins to London? I believe they came each Season even after Mrs. Lunsford passed away, what, some eight years ago?”

Diana felt herself stiffen at the probing question. She had always accompanied the family to London, until her fateful Season when she had disgraced herself. Doubtless Thorne had heard about her notorious past, even if he wasn’t aware of the details, but she felt a grave reluctance to discuss it further. “I prefer the country to London.”

“I believe you were ill the one time I visited the Hall.”

That was one deception she had no reason to perpetuate. “I was not ill,” Diana replied with exaggerated sweetness. “My uncle simply didn’t wish me to meet you. Your reputation preceded you.”

Thorne’s eyebrow arched. “Yet I was permitted to socialize with Amy.”

“At her young age, she wasn’t considered vulnerable to rakes.”

“Ah, there is that erroneous term again.”

“You cannot deny you are renowned for scandal, Lord Thorne.”

“I don’t intend to,” he said, his irreverent smile showing again. “But in my own defense, I’ll wager that fully half the tales you hear about me are false.”

Diana suspected there was some truth to his denial. Nathaniel, who had been an excellent judge of character, had considered this man to be his closest friend, so Thorne could not be
dreadfully
wicked. And she knew that with her own dubious past, she could hardly throw stones at him. Yet she couldn’t exonerate him so easily.

“I doubt you are as innocent as you claim. If your normal conduct is half so outrageous as it was with me on the beach a short while ago, it is no wonder you find yourself the subject of lurid tales.”

He refused to take offense, merely regarded her evenly. “Yet you bear some measure of blame in that instance, my sweet. I would never have considered you so ripe for a kiss if not for your fascination with my body.”

Having just raised her glass to her lips to drink, Diana choked on her juice. Coughing, she covered her mouth with her hand and sent him a darkling glance.

Thorne’s bland look held supreme innocence, yet the wicked sparkle in his eyes suggested he had meant to unbalance her.

Managing to regain her composure, Diana adopted a mild tone. “I think you delight in being provoking.”

“Yes,” he replied without apology. “However, I
am
aware of the bounds of proper conduct. I don’t regret kissing you, but I would have refrained had I known your identity. I was entirely serious when I said I follow a gentleman’s code of honor.”

Diana tended to believe him, although she was certain it was Thorne’s own particular definition of honor that he followed and no one else’s.

“As for avoiding scandal,” he added, “if you are to remain in my house, I intend to hire a chaperone to live here for the duration of your stay. Two young ladies alone in a notorious bachelor’s establishment will provide ready fodder for gossip, and I want no scandal attached to my ward’s name.”

Without pause then, he changed the subject. “So tell me about this bounder who is pursuing Amy.”

“I’m not certain he is a bounder,” Diana replied. “Merely that he is most likely a fortune-hunter. His name is Reginald Kneighly. Do you know him?”

She saw Thorne’s brows draw together. “We have a slight acquaintance. He’s something of a gamester, and his pockets are frequently empty.”

Diana nodded. “Mr. Kneighly has distant relatives in Derbyshire and first appeared there at Christmas, apparently to escape his creditors. He began wooing Amy without my knowledge, and they went to great lengths to keep their liaison secret, no doubt because she knew how I would respond.” Diana winced at the memory. “I should have suspected sooner, but by the time I discovered their deception, it was too late. Amy already believed herself to be in love.”

Thorne grimaced, expressing Diana’s sentiments exactly.

“I thought it imperative to get her away from him at once,” she went on. “I would have taken her to London, but you had disappeared. And since the Season doesn’t start until mid-April, I brought her here.”

“But you plan to launch her this spring?”

“She missed her comeout last year because she was in mourning for Nathaniel, so it is beyond time. I thought a Season would both take Amy’s mind off her infatuation and give her the opportunity to develop an affection for someone more suitable. My hope is that she will find a husband who will love her for herself, not for her money. If she can make a love match or at least marry a man who will care for her and protect her, then she won’t be so vulnerable to fortune-hunters. Or to rakes bent on seduction.” This last with a pointed glance at Thorne.

He ignored Diana’s gibe and cut straight to the heart of the matter. “What is it specifically you want of me?”

“To persuade your Aunt Hennessy to sponsor her.”

“You cannot serve that office?”

Diana shook her head. She not only held no position in society, but a cloud of scandal still lingered over her. And her tarnished reputation would only be a detriment to Amy’s chances for a good match. “I have neither the consequence nor the connections your aunt does. And you yourself are hardly the appropriate choice to bring her out. There is already enough question about the propriety of you being Amy’s guardian.”

A glimmer of humor appeared in his eyes again. “Quite true.”

“There is one other advantage to my proposal. You may not be aware of it, but Amy went to boarding school with your cousin Cecily, who will be having her comeout this spring under Lady Hennessy’s sponsorship. Sharing a Season with Cecily will provide Amy the companionship of someone closer to her own age, and with more similar interests than mine.”

Thorne steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “I admit it would be a relief to get Amy settled. I’ve always been fond of her, and I want to honor my duty to Nathaniel. Certainly I want to protect her from a fortune-hunter.”

“Then you will petition your aunt in her behalf?”

“I wish to speak to Amy first, to judge the situation for myself.”

“By all means.” Diana smiled ruefully. “You will find her attitude rather…rebellious. She is still furious at me for stopping her budding affair.”

“I can only imagine,” Thorne replied, his tone sardonic. “But you were right to bring her here.”

Just then Amy entered the courtyard and exclaimed in delight when she saw him. “Thorne!”

When he rose to his feet to greet her, she launched herself at him, laughing. Thorne allowed her to kiss his cheek but then pried her fingers away from his neck and held her at arm’s length.

“Hello, bratling,” he said fondly.

Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed up at him. “You cannot call me brat any longer, for I am all grown up now.”

“Yes, I can see you’ve become quite a beauty.”

“Indeed, I have.” She twirled around for him proudly, showing off her velvet riding habit, then flung herself in a chair, not even waiting for Thorne to resume his own seat before continuing.

“I am so glad to see you, Thorne—
and
your beautiful island. I have longed to visit here, ever since you told me about Cyrene and its marvelous legends.”

Diana winced inwardly. She had practically had to browbeat Amy to get her on board the packet ship. But she was pleased to see the girl respond so easily to Thorne. They obviously had a teasing, comfortable friendship, and it would do Amy good to have an older male figure to take the place of her late brother.

“So, Diana has spoken to you?” Amy pressed. “Will you ask your aunt?”

“Your cousin spoke to me, yes, and I have agreed to consider the proposal.”

“Thorne…
please?
” Amy leaned forward, touching his arm and giving him a pleading smile.

Thorne seemed unswayed. “You may bat your eyelashes all you want, minx, but more devious females than you have tried to wrap me around their fingers and failed. I said I will consider it.”

“Well, I hope you do it soon. You cannot know how miserable I have been, living in the country this past year, away from London and all of my friends. And Diana has become such a dragon of late. It will be so much more pleasant having my Season with your aunt and your cousin Cecily. I doubt Lady Hennessy will hover over me the way Diana does now, watching my every step.”

“If you think that, brat, you don’t know my Aunt Hennessy.”

Amy started to pout, but then apparently changed her mind. “It is not solely for my benefit that I ask, but Diana’s, as well. She won’t mind turning me over to your aunt. In truth, Diana is eager to wash her hands of me so she can pursue her art career.”

“Amy,” Diana said sharply. “I most certainly do not want to wash my hands of you.”

Amy turned innocent eyes to her. “But if you are accepted into the academy, you will have no time for me. You know it.”

“Academy?” Thorne asked curiously.

Diana was the one to reply. “I may have a chance to train at the British Academy for the Fine Arts.”

“That is the rival to the Royal Academy of Art, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be a great honor for her to be accepted,” Amy interjected. “They have never before admitted a female artist. But Diana is rightly concerned that the scandal in her past will present too great an obstacle.”

When Thorne raised an eyebrow, Diana felt herself flushing. Knowing his penetrating gaze was raking her again, she busied herself pouring a cup of tea, while Amy whispered to him in a confidential undervoice:

“Diana is considered something of a scarlet lady. It is because of the scandal that she cannot sponsor me. And why she is acting so vengeful now. She was once jilted by a fortune-hunter, so she considers all men to be fortune-hunters.”

“Amy,”
Diana said in a quelling tone, “you will give Thorne a disgust of your manners.”

Thorne eyed his ward lazily. “Indeed, brat. You’ve made me realize the grave injustice I did you by not beating you more often during your youth.”

His low drawl made Amy laugh. “You never beat me.”

“But I might start if you don’t stubble your gossiping tongue and apologize to your cousin.”

Her smile fading, she eyed him as if wondering whether to take his threat seriously. But then she mumbled a grudging apology. “Pray forgive me, Diana. I didn’t mean to be so beastly.”

“You’re forgiven,” Diana replied, amazed that the girl had capitulated so swiftly.

“Why don’t you take yourself off, minx,” Thorne suggested, “while I speak further with your cousin?”

“Oh, very well…if you permit me to ride one of your horses.”

“That I can agree to. Go apply to my head groom for a mount. I trust you with my horseflesh, if not the reins of my curricle. On horseback you aren’t likely to wind up in a ditch as you did when I attempted to teach you to drive.”

“Oh, Thorne, it was not entirely my fault that your fractious team shied at that farm dray. And I have become a much better driver since then—”

“I’m not about to risk my fine steeds to find out. You will have to satisfy yourself with riding. But I purchased several Arab mares recently that will be ideal for you, and they could certainly use the exercise.”

“Arabians? Famous!” With a brilliant smile, Amy bounded out of her seat and kissed Thorne soundly on the cheek again before he waved her off. She was humming as she skipped away.

It warmed Diana’s heart to see her cousin so carefree. When she caught Thorne watching her, she voiced the thought. “I haven’t seen her this lighthearted since Nathaniel died. Bringing her here may be just the thing to divert her from her thwarted romance.”

Thorne’s mouth pursed in a sour expression. “I see your dilemma. Her beauty combined with her significant fortune would make her prime prey for a fortune-hunter. Her personality, however, isn’t quite as sweet as I remember.”