A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues 1)

“I’m so glad to see you, Lady Diana. I hadn’t heard that you returned from your visit with your family in Italy.” Miss Connors offered a warm smile while her brother gave a low, but noticeable snort.

“Yes, I had a lovely time.” She nodded. “And I am glad to see all of you as well.”

A footman arrived at the table with a pot of tea and a tray of several small sandwiches, tarts, and biscuits.

The group made typical inane conversation about the roads and the weather while everyone fixed their tea and placed various offerings on their plate. Diana took a sip and, instantly, the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

He’s here.

9

Against his better judgment, but at the request of Sir Phillip DuBois-Gifford, Hunt had returned home from the meeting with Sir Phillip and immediately sent an acceptance missive to Lady Grafton. He managed to avoid Diana for the next few days by spending more time at his club and less at typical ton affairs.

It hadn’t helped one bit. He still dreamed of her and, whenever his mind was not fully occupied, his thoughts drifted to Diana and the portrait still sitting in the wardrobe. He really ought to burn it, but every time he seriously considered doing so, he found one reason or another to not.

Now he stood on the patio at the Grafton Estate staring at Diana’s back as she sat with the Connors family.

“My lord, I am so glad you have arrived!” Lady Eunice grabbed his arm, taking him by surprise, almost pitching him to the ground.

“My lady, how nice to see you.” He glanced in the direction of the Connors’ table. Diana turned and smirked at him. Either because he had said he was not attending or, most likely, at the circumstances he found himself in with his hostess.

“Please join me for tea, my lord. I have a lovely table over here.” Lady Eunice practically dragged him across the patio to a table for two set alongside the balustrade lining the patio. Off into a corner away from the others.

It appeared she had been waiting for him since it was already set with two places and a tray of sweets. Once they were seated, a footman appeared with a pot of tea.

“How do you like your tea, my lord?” She batted her eyelashes at him as she poured. He was concerned that she would spill the hot liquid if she didn’t pay attention to what she was doing.

“A bit of sugar and some cream.” He glanced across the patio at Diana, and his stomach muscles tightened at the look Nelson Connors was casting in her direction. He was leaning closer to her, and Diana was tilting away. The rake had better keep his hands where Hunt could see them.

“My lord, I have planned so many games for the party. I hope you enjoy charades,”—he hated it—“blindman’s buff,”—hated that one also—“and forfeits”—the one he hated most of all. She grinned with a look in her eye he’d seen from many a hopeful debutante over the years.

He groaned inwardly. It appeared reining in his lust with thoughts of a soft and sensual Diana in a warm bed in the same house, on the same floor, with only two wooden doors separating them would not be his only problem.

Since he’d been forced to attend this gathering, his intention had been to get the information Sir Phillip required as quickly as possible, plead a problem that needed his attention in London to his hosts, and then leave early.

When he’d planned his early escape, it had been for the sole purpose of avoiding the temptation Diana presented, but now it appeared he would be dodging Lady Eunice most of the time as well. That situation could be even more of a problem if the young lady hung about him the entire time, making it difficult to conduct his investigation.

The best solution was to stick close to Diana, which was precisely what he did not want to do. At least with all the secrets he and Diana had shared over the years, he could employ her help.

With her guile she could provide assistance. She was a great talker and could wile anyone into revealing information. Yes, he would have to divulge the reason for his attendance at the party.

He realized that all the time he’d been thinking about Diana and the investigation, Lady Eunice had been blathering on and on. He’d nodded a few times and hoped like hell he hadn’t agreed to anything foolish or time-consuming. The last time he had drifted off when a young lady had spoken with him, he found he’d promised to escort her to the museum the next day. Along with her doting parents casting warm and very frightening—for him—glances in their direction.

“If you will excuse me, my lady, I have a message to deliver to Lady Diana.” He placed his napkin on the table and stood. As crass as that sounded, he had to get away from Lady Eunice before he said or did something ungentlemanly.

He knew when he asked her to dance at the Marlowe ball it had been a mistake. She apparently had read more into it than she should have.

At first he’d thought Lady Eunice might be someone he could consider to court, but after only a few minutes into the dance, he’d decided he would rather pass his title onto his brother than marry Lady Eunice or anyone of her ilk. Although she’d appeared sweet, it became apparent her interest lay in money, titles and status.

His attempts thus far to find a woman to court had been for nil. Every young lady he’d considered turned out to be someone he could barely tolerate throughout a dance or dinner, never mind for the rest of his life.

When considering a wife, it would help if he didn’t find it a chore to bed her but, aside from that, his main concerns were someone who would not tarnish his title, who would conduct herself properly in all circumstances, run an efficient household, and raise well-behaved children.

“Oh.” Lady Eunice looked at him with surprise, then smiled. “Of course, we have plenty of time to spend together, and I must see to some matters about dinner, anyway.”

He bowed and hurried away.

Of course, we have plenty of time to spend together.