“We wait in a place where we cannot be seen. Soon one or both men will exit the store.” He walked her over to a park bench on the green, across from the bookstore.
They chatted amiably while a few people went in and out of the store. After about five minutes the footman left the store, looked around, and walked off. No more than two minutes later, one of the guests at the house party left and walked toward the pub where they were to meet for lunch.
Diana and Hunt looked at each other. “Lord Melrose,” they said in unison.
11
“What do you know of Lord Melrose?” Diana asked Hunt as they made their way to the pub, trailing only a couple hundred yards behind the man.
Hunt shrugged. “Not much. I’ve seen him about town and in the halls of parliament, but he is pretty much a nondescript sort of fellow.” Of course, Hunt knew from his work with the Home Office that nondescript fellows often made the best spies. But an anarchist? That was quite a stretch for Melrose. As a matter of fact, working with anarchists was a stretch for any peer.
Although it had been Hunt’s plan to depart the party as soon as he had the name of the man involved with the nihilists, he found himself reluctant to leave. He’d enjoyed the time spent with Diana and, thus far, he’d been able to keep his lust in check.
Because of their long friendship, he was not surprised to find her witty with a bit of sarca
sm regarding the other guests. She was also a stalwart partner in keeping him from being thrust into a situation that would require swift wedding bells.
Although he’d known for years that Diana was a charming person to spend time with—when she wasn’t in trouble, that was—it seemed since her return from Italy, he was enjoying her company even more. But in a much different way. Truth be told, a more dangerous way.
He tried very hard to convince himself that the portrait had nothing to do with this change in attitude. Some days he was close to successful. Was he truly that much of a cad?
There was only one day left of the festivities. The party would end the next night at a ball for all the guests as well as surrounding gentry. Since he’d come this far, he might as well stay to the end and avoid concerns and questions when he took an early leave.
The following evening, Hunt descended the stairs from the bedchambers’ level to the ballroom floor. His eyes immediately drifted to where Diana stood with Lady Eunice, who looked pale and insignificant next to Diana, who wore an emerald green satin gown that hugged her curves to perfection. Low in the neckline with slight capped sleeves, the dress had a sparkling netting overlay that draped from Diana’s waist to the floor.
Only Diana would dare to wear such a gown. He shook his head at her once again pushing the limits of acceptable apparel for an unmarried young lady. She was surrounded by men, some from the party, and some obviously from those who had been invited from the local gentry.
Annoyed at the attention she was receiving, he made his way across the room, nodding at acquaintances and friends. Now that it was near the end of the party, he was anxious for the event to be over so he could report back to DuBois-Gifford. Hunt had watched Melrose since he’d discovered his perfidy and the man was good. He showed no sense of alarm or guilt. Hunt also noticed that the footman who had met him in the bookstore paid no attention to Melrose while performing his duties.
He elbowed a few of the men surrounding Lady Eunice and Diana, glaring when they neglected to move fast enough. “Good evening, ladies. You both look lovely.”
Diana smiled and dipped a curtsey. Lady Eunice giggled and batted her eyelashes.
Hunt reached for Diana’s dance card and filled in the first waltz. He wanted to fill all three of them, not wanting to watch her in another man’s arms. Which was foolish since he had no claim on her.
He must keep reminding himself of that fact.
Lady Eunice held out her dance card and dangled it in front of him. He took it and penciled in a cotillion. She looked at it and tried very hard not to appear annoyed. He had no intention of encouraging her further by another waltz.
* * *
Trying not to be obvious, Diana studied Hunt as he descended the stairs to the ballroom and could not help but admire the man. His tall, confident demeanor and arrogant stride drew the eyes of just about every woman in the room. Young girls with hope in their eyes, widows and bored matrons with blatant carnal invitations.
He was dressed in all black except for his cravat and silver waistcoat. His light brown hair had been slicked back, but curls were already dropping onto his forehead. But more compelling were his deep brown eyes riveted on her as he made his way across the floor.
“Isn’t he wonderful,” Lady Eunice sighed.
She tried to hide a smile as Hunt jostled his way through the group of men surrounding her and Eunice. He looked like a warrior battling for his lady.
He bowed. “Good evening, ladies. You both look lovely.” He reached for Diana’s dance card and wrote his name. She snuck a peek. A waltz. Could she handle being that close to him for twenty or so minutes?
Lady Eunice immediately dangled her card in front of him and Hunt signed her dance card as well.
They were immediately joined by numerous young ladies fidgeting with their dance cards until Hunt added his name to all. Lady Townsend, a young newly widowed countess, edged between him and one of the debutantes and leaned her impressive breast against his arm, glancing up at him in a way that made Diana quite annoyed.
The contingent of adoring debutantes remained planted firmly in their spots until various gentlemen claimed them for the first dance.
As Mr. Temple claimed Diana, Hunt leaned in, close to her ear. “I will be in the card room.”