Notorious Deception (8 page)

“Oh, God, how I want you, Diana,” he whispered, his voice harsh with desire. His hands stroked down her back and cupped her buttocks, lifting her up and pressing her hard against his swollen manhood.

She gave a startled cry of fear at his words and actions, realizing for the first time how completely beyond herself these exciting new sensations made her react. What would happen now? Would they make love, as Caroline called it? Diana's confusion and ignorance caused her to pause, and she swallowed hard, unable to formulate a response either with her voice or with her body.

Derek felt the change in her immediately—the stiffening of her body, the pulling away of her arms. He tilted his head down, and when he saw the fear and uncertainty in her soft brown eyes, he felt like kicking himself for being such a damn fool. Randy goat. Insufferable cad. Diana had turned to him in pain and fear and he had nearly succeeded in taking advantage of her vulnerable state. He was appalled at his lack of control and absence of honor.

Gently, Derek loosened his hold on her and took a step backward. Diana swayed slightly, and for a moment, he was afraid she wouldn't be able to remain standing without his support, but she did. She held the bodice of her dress together with one hand, while pushing the heavy strands of loose hair away from her face with the other.

Shuddering with mortification, Diana fixed her stare on the rich Oriental carpet at her feet, unable to meet his eyes. She was certain he thought her a whore. She waited in trepidation for the insults to begin, barely able to imagine his anger at her sudden, abrupt change of heart.

“I do hope you will be able to forgive my disgraceful behavior, madam,” Derek murmured in a low voice.

Diana moistened her lips with her tongue. Why was he being so kind? They both knew she too was responsible for what had occurred. It was not fair for him to shoulder all the burden of guilt. Yet her mind was a tumultuous jumble of feelings, emotions, and thoughts she did not understand and could not clearly articulate.

“I—I'm not quite sure what came over me,” she muttered, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Derek gazed for a moment at her lovely face, struggling hard to look at him, and he turned away from her. His desire for Diana was top fresh and his need too overwhelming for him to remain so close to her and not again gather her into his arms. He strode purposefully to the door and opened it, but paused a moment, his back toward her as he spoke.

“It was my fault, Diana,” he said in a strong voice, hoping to ease some of the guilt and confusion he saw on her face. “Please, forgive me.” And then he was gone.

Diana's body went limp when the door closed, feeling strangely lost without the earl's strong presence. Methodically she fastened the buttons of her gown, refusing to dwell on how they had become undone in the first place. She wandered aimlessly about the room, picking up her silver-handled brush from the dressing table in the corner and absently brushing the tangles from her hair. She started to sit down on the low stool in front of the table, but stopped short as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

Her lips were red and slightly swollen from the earl's kisses, her cheeks flushed with color, her eyes still glowing with sensuality. Diana shuddered. She did not wish to be reminded of their lovemaking. She walked to a chair near the large window on the far side of the room, and she sat there staring sightlessly out at the garden below. She stroked the brush through her hair, deliberately shutting her mind to the questions and feelings swamping her, unwilling to confront them. She stayed there for several hours, long after the sun had set and darkness had fallen. But she was no closer to understanding her dilemma than when she had first sat down.

“Would you care for more tea, my lord?” Diana asked politely, holding aloft the floral-patterned Spode teapot.

“No, thank you,” Derek replied blandly. He balanced the delicate porcelain teacup he held awkwardly in his large hand. Then he glanced again at the small clock on the drawing room mantel.

“What time did you say Tristan was returning home?” he asked.

“Tristan is at home, my lord. I am sure he will be down to join us momentarily. He must have been . . . detained , . upstairs.” Diana stammered slightly, her cheeks flaming.

“Tart?” Diana asked, holding out a scrumptious assortment of pastries, scones, and small sandwiches. Her hand shook slightly.

Derek looked down at the plate and then up to her carefully schooled features. Although Diana was outwardly appearing calm, he sensed she was anything but comfortable at finding herself alone in his company. In the week that had passed since their mishap in the park, she had successfully avoided all his attempts at getting her alone, yet he had persistently called every afternoon.

As hard as he tried, Derek had not been able to dismiss Diana from his mind. At that moment, his memory was vivid with the smooth feel of her lips, the lush curves of her body, and the burning heat of her passion. He felt his body hardening as he studied her lovely face.

Derek was confused and baffled by his reaction to Diana. Never before with any woman, even his beloved Charity, had he felt this intense ache, this need, deep within his soul. He had to discover the cause.

“We need to talk, Diana,” Derek said quietly in a deep voice.

Diana's eyes widened in panic, and she squirmed noticeably in her chair. “Do try a pastry, my lord,” she suggested, raising the plate higher. “The cream ones are a favorite of Caroline's. Cook makes them especially for her.”

Derek scowled down at her, unable to form a civilized response. He finally had an opportunity alone with her and all she wanted to do was talk about tea and pastries. Pastries, for God's sake!

Derek placed his teacup none too gently on the mahogany table between them and stood. He walked about the room in agitation, finally halting before the fireplace, his back to Diana. He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he picked up the poker and rolled a fat log onto the flames.

“Have you discovered any new information about our difficulties in the park?” she said suddenly.

“Nothing,” he replied with a heavy sigh, allowing her to direct the conversation for the time being. “Since no further attempts on my life have been made, the investigator Tristan hired is inclined to believe it was an isolated incident.”

“What is your opinion?”

“I am not so easily convinced,” he announced, shrugging his shoulders. “My judgment might be prejudiced, however, since I was one of the individuals being shot at.”

“I am going home,” Diana blurted out suddenly.

Derek whirled around at her statement. “What?”

“I said I am going home,” she repeated, avoiding his eyes, “to Snowshill Manor in Cornwall. I decided this morning. I'll be leaving as soon as I can make the appropriate arrangements.”

“I don't think that would be wise,” Derek said slowly. He stared at her a long, silent minute, knowing he needed to choose his words carefully so as not to unduly frighten her. “I believe you should stay in London—at least until we can be certain you are no longer in any danger.”

Diana wrinkled her brown. “You just told me the investigator has determined the incident in the park was an isolated case. And there have been no further attacks.”

“Precisely,” Derek said softly. While he had deliberately been jaunting about town, Diana had not ventured forth from the safety of Tristan and Caroline's house the entire week. He knew that the damning piece of evidence indicated Diana had most likely been the bullets' target.

Diana frowned in puzzlement for a moment until understanding suddenly lit her face. Her eyes flew to Derek's in alarm. “Do you mean to imply I was the intended victim, my lord?” She shook her head vehemently. “Surely, you are mistaken.”

She picked up her teacup and nervously took a large sip, crying out when the hot brew burned her tongue. “Darn,” she cursed softly, thrusting the cup down on the table.

Derek crossed the room and sat on the gold brocade settee next to Diana. She was so upset that she hardly seemed notice his movements.

“I did not mean to frighten you, my dear,” he whispered in her ear.

“Well, you have,” she snapped, turning to him. Her fingers flew to her throat and she fidgeted nervously with the high black lace collar of her dress.

“You must be mistaken,” she said again, clasping her hand in her lap. “There cannot possibly be someone in London trying to harm me. The only people I am acquainted with in the entire city are Tristan and Caroline. And you, of course.”

Derek saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes, and it wounded him. Did she really believe he was capable of such treachery? He then recalled her past experiences with Giles, and he could not fault her for a moment of mistrust.

“We are dealing with an unknown adversary, Diana. Anything can happen,” Derek said softly.

“That settles it,” Diana declared. “If you truly believe I am in danger, I must leave London at once.”

“What!” Derek shouted, appalled at the idea. “Diana, have you not heard a word I've said?”

“I heard each and every word you uttered, my lord,” she said, thrusting her chin up. “I also understand the most appropriate course of action. If there is danger in London, then I must leave—as soon as possible.”

Derek shook his head and chuckled softly. Her reasoning did have a ring of logic to it, even if it was convoluted in the extreme. The wonders of a woman's mind. He stretched out his long legs and folded his arms comfortably across his chest. There would be no fighting her on this. He could tell by the firm set of her chin and the rigid set of her back that she was poised for a confrontation.

“I don't suppose there is any possibility you will reconsider your decision?” Derek asked smoothly.

“I will not change my mind.”

“Fine.” he said simply.

“Fine,” she repeated.

Derek saw several emotions cross her face and took heart at her obvious distress. Perhaps she would miss his company. “Naturally, I shall accompany you.”

“Accompany me?” Diana said in astonishment.

“Really, madam,” Derek said with a charming smile, “you did not actually believe I would allow you to leave here on your own?”

Diana gave him a wary look. “It is unnecessary for you to travel the entire distance to Cornwall. I would, however, appreciate an escort out of London.”

“I shall accompany you all the way to Cornwall,” he insisted. “And who knows how long I shall stay there once I arrive?”

Diana's mouth opened in shock, but before she could respond to him, the drawing room doors swung open and Tristan and Caroline strolled in.

“Sorry, we're late,” Tristan called out cheerfully. “We had a bit of business to attend to, didn't we, Caroline?” He gave his wife a positively lecherous grin, and she blushed prettily.

“Tris,” Caroline admonished in a silky voice. “Please behave. You are causing Diana to blush.”

Derek looked at Diana's red face, and to spare her further embarrassment, he said quickly, “Diana and I have been making plans for our departure. You did say you wanted to leave tomorrow morning, didn't you?”

Diana merely nodded her head.

“Must you leave?” Caroline asked, sounding genuinely sorry at the idea of Diana's departure.

“Yes,” Diana croaked. “I have already stayed far longer than I intended.”

“We shall miss you,” Tristan said as he accepted a cup of tea from his wife. “Perhaps you will come and stay with us the next time you are in London? Or better yet, come visit us at Westgate Manor, our country home in Hampshire.”

“That is most kind of you, Tris. I cannot begin to thank you and Caroline for all your kindness during my stay. I am very grateful.”

“I had best take my leave if I am to make all the arrangements for our departure tomorrow,” Derek said.

Now that he had settled on a course of action, he was rather pleased with the way events had turned out. He especially enjoyed the look of total astonishment on Diana's face when he had informed her of his intentions to accompany her to Snowshill Manor. There would be numerous opportunities to discuss the unfinished personal business between them on the long ride to Cornwall. And there would be no interruptions. Derek would see to that.

“I shall be here at first light, madam. I expect you to be ready and waiting.”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” Diana answered readily.

Smiling smugly and bowing, the earl grasped Diana's hand and kissed it. It was the first intimate contact he had with her all week, and it felt wonderful to touch her velvety skin again. He heard her sharp intake of breath as his lips grazed her hand, and his heart soared, knowing she was affected by his touch.

“Until morning, my dear,” he whispered softly, causing Diana to lean forward to catch his words, and she nearly collided head-on with him as he stood up. He made his good-byes to Tristan and Caroline and then flashed Diana a final smile before quitting the room.

 

True to his word, the earl presented himself at Tristan's door just as dawn was breaking. Diana was coming down the staircase when he arrived; a young footman carrying her small satchel preceded her. She exchanged pleasantries with the earl and bid a friendly good-bye to the small group of servants gathered in the hall to see her off.

“With Cook's compliment's, madam,” Mrs. Roget said, handing Diana a large wicker hamper. “We hope you have a safe and pleasant journey.”

“How very thoughtful!” Diana exclaimed. “Please convey my thanks to Cook and to the entire staff for their outstanding service during my visit. They do you proud, Mrs. Roget.”

The earl watched Diana with growing admiration as she said good-bye to the other servants, calling each by name. It was amazing what a few minutes of sincere appreciation and thanks did for everyone's morale. By the time they left the marble-tiled hallway, everyone was beaming.

Derek watched Diana's face register surprise when she saw the large traveling coach, complete with liveried driver and coachmen. Derek opened the carriage door and handed her up.

“Your lunch, I presume,” he teased, passing along the basket. He swung up into the coach and sat on the heavily padded seat across from her.

“I suggest you watch your step, my lord,” Diana said flippantly, patting the hamper, “or I will not share my treats with you.”

“In that case, I shall endeavor to behave,” he replied. “I must confess I have a great curiosity to taste your treats, Diana.”

Diana's eyes widened and he cast her a look of pure innocence. Resolutely, she turned to stare out the window.

“It won't work,” he said conversationally.

“I beg your pardon,” she replied haughtily.

“You have a very expressive face, my dear. It's often possible to read your thoughts.”

“Oh really, my lord,” Diana said sweetly, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Can you actually read my thoughts? How very interesting.”

He laughed heartily, enjoying her wit as she hastily averted her face.

“Ready, your lordship?” the driver yelled down.

“Proceed, Langston,” Derek shouted, his eyes never leaving Diana's beautiful face.

At the earl's command, the carriage took off down the deserted street at a clipping pace. Diana shifted uncomfortably under the earl's scrutiny, spreading her skirts out on the seat and fidgeting nervously with the latch on the wicker hamper. For pity sake, was he going to stare at her all the way to Cornwall?

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Diana?” he asked with a devilish grin.

“Of course not, my lord,” she responded primly. “I enjoy being stared at in such close quarters. In fact, I was just wondering if you were going to be staring at me for the entire journey.”

“That sounds most pleasant,” he declared.

She felt uneasy and needed to reassure herself that she had acted with sound judgment when she'd agreed to the earl's escort. She was completely under his control now, riding alone with him in his coach. He could do whatever he wanted and she would be powerless to prevent it. She supposed she ought to be afraid of him. The last time she had ridden alone in a coach with a man had also been on a journey to Cornwall; Giles and she had traveled there after her wedding. She shuddered at that memory, but quickly shut it off from her mind. The present earl was nothing like his cousin. He was a man of honor. She was not afraid of him.

“It is a long way to Cornwall, my lord,” Diana said softly. “I believe you will quickly grow tired of my company.”

“You are only partially correct, Diana. 'Tis a long way to Cornwall.” Derek settled back on the plush burgundy leather bench and covered his eyes with his hat. He stretched his legs out until they were touching the edge of her seat, then crossed them at the ankles. And he announced in a pleasant voice, “I am going to try to sleep for a bit. I suggest you do the same.”

Within minutes he was breathing evenly, and Diana was shocked to realize he had indeed fallen asleep. In slumber his features relaxed and softened, giving him the appearance of being younger than his 35 years. The earl's piercing blue eyes—which were, to Diana's way of thinking, the most forbidding aspect of his character—were hidden under his hat. He was, without question, the most handsome man she had ever seen, and her heart pounded when she remembered how he had held her in his arms and kissed her.