A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues 1)

She’d known for years that the Earl of Huntington viewed her as a walking disaster. She was also aware from their years of friendship that, when it came time to marry, he would choose a young debutante who was pure, biddable, and had nary a misstep attached to her name.

She sighed. She was so far from that image as to be farcical. If only she were as bold as Grandmama and suggested to Hunt that they have an affair. Despite what most members of the ton thought of her, however, she longed for what every other young lady wanted. A husband who cared for her, a home she could manage, and children to love and raise.

“Good afternoon, Lady Diana, I am so pleased you were able to join us.” Lady Grafton greeted her, kissing the air on either side of her face.

“Thank you, my lady, I am happy to be here.”

Lady Eunice joined her mother, squealing in that very annoying way the poor girl oftentimes did. Eunice was getting close to spinsterhood, which was a pity because, underneath her silly demeanor, she was a lovely young lady who would make some man a fine wife. Except Diana had noticed a bit of desperation in the girl this current Season.

Eunice would have already been settled in her own home with a husband and children but for her parents’ insistence she marry the highest title she could.

Eunice linked her arm with Diana’s and led her toward the house. “We are going to have so much fun. I have a few games in mind that will probably cause some raised eyebrows.” She giggled again.

“Indeed?”

“Yes. And Mother just told me yesterday that the Earl of Huntington will be joining us. I am so excited about that because he took so long to respond, Mother was sure he would decline.” They maneuvered their way past Lady Grafton and a couple she was greeting, then entered the hall and started up the stairs.

Hunt? He told her he was not able to join the festivities. Diana attempted to tamp down her growing excitement at Eunice’s words, else she begin to giggle like her hostess.

“I am pleased to hear that,” Diana said, hoping she sounded as blasé as she wanted to appear.

“I know. I hate to admit it, but I am quite enamored with the earl, and so are my parents.” Eunice leaned in close as if to offer a major secret. “He asked me to dance at the Marlowe ball.” She closed her eyes and dipped as if dancing. “It was wonderful.”

Diana grabbed the girl’s arm before she waltzed down the stairs backward. “Careful.”

Another giggle.

Eunice left Diana at the room she’d been assigned. Marguerite was already unpacking and Mrs. Strickland supervising, which obviously annoyed Marguerite. “Mrs. Strickland, I understand there are two rooms on the top floor set aside for companions since this room is rather small. Perhaps you can get yourself set up there,” Diana said.

Marguerite mouthed “thank you” as Mrs. Strickland nodded and picked up her travel bag. “Very well. I will see you at dinner, I suppose. Unless the companions are to be banned to another area for dinner as well.” She sniffed and left the room.

Diana rolled her eyes and ignored the comment. Mrs. Strickland could be a trial at times, but Diana didn’t have the desire or time to interview another companion. She would be quite happy to do without one, but since she always seemed to be in danger of getting into trouble, having a companion who acted as chaperone was a necessity to keep the virtue vultures happy.

“Marguerite, they are serving tea on the patio. I would love to be rid of this dusty outfit. Will you see if there is something that doesn’t require pressing that I may change into?”

“Yes, my lady. Why don’t you wash up at the water bowl one of the maids just filled and I will find something for you.” The maid nodded at the milk glass bowl and pitcher on the dresser across from the bed.

Diana washed and with Marguerite’s help changed into a deep yellow mousselaine de soie gown that drew snug across her stomach and midriff with a lovely gathering at her lower back, not like the horsehair bustles of the past, but small ruffles and one large bow.

Diana loved that dress because her full-figured, muscular form from all her riding filled out her outfits quite well. Since she never wanted to be like everyone else, she relished in her body, different from the current waifs.

She was directed to the patio by one of the footmen. It was a pleasant day, with some sunshine, but combined with enough passing clouds to not require a parasol to protect her skin. She

noticed most of the young ladies present did carry one with them. Diana always hated carrying reticules, parasols and other hinderances to free movement.

“Diana!” Miss April Connors called to her from a small table where she sat with her brother, Mr. Nelson Connors and their mother, Mrs. Edith Connors. Mr. Ernest Connors, the patriarch, was missing.

Diana made her way to the table, her insides twisting at the leering stare coming from the younger Mr. Connor’s eyes. They traveled up and down her body as if assessing a bit of horseflesh at Tattersalls. Apparently, her absence from England hadn’t been long enough for some young men to forget her stumble into disgrace. She’d never cared for any of the Connors, anyway.

Mr. Ernest Connors was a blustering, large man who used every opportunity to remind one and all that despite being a ‘mister’ he was the son of a viscount and only one step from inheriting, since his brother, the current viscount, had been married for several years and had still not produced an heir.

His wife was timid and meek, a trait Diana barely tolerated in a woman. Nelson had always regarded Diana with a combination of disdain and ungentlemanly interest and poor April had been betrothed to a young man who left for the continent on a trip and, after four years, had still not returned, leaving the girl a bit on the sour side.

Mr. Connors rose and pulled out a chair. “My lady, if you please.”

Diana took the seat across from Miss Connors and, unfortunately, next to Mr. Connors, who inched his chair ever so slightly so he was closer to her than she would have liked.

After his knee touched her thigh, she wished she had brought a parasol after all. She could stick him in the leg with it.