A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues 1)

He released Diana, and she turned to face Lord and Lady Grafton. She lifted her chin. “I am responsible for myself, my lord.”

Lady Grafton waved her hand in dismissal. “Nonsense. Every woman must have a man responsible for her. It will be necessary for Lord Huntington to visit with your father, which would be quite a trip if there is no one closer.”

“Again, Lady Grafton, I do not mean to be rude, but I am responsible for myself,” Diana responded, her voice laced with anger.

Lord Denbigh, one of the men who had gathered at the doorway to view the current calamity, stepped into the room and looked condescendingly at Diana. “As a dear friend of your father, my lady, I am quite certain the Marquess of Rockingham would be pleased to have me step into his place and deal with Lord Huntington.”

Diana closed her eyes and groaned. “May I please have a few moments to speak with Lord Huntington?”

“You’ve already caused enough trouble, gel,” Lady Grafton said. “I will not allow this scandal to continue by allowing the two of you alone. Lord only knows what you are up to.”

Hunt stepped away from Diana, the blood pounding in his chest at the insult to her. There must have been something in his expression that terrorized the woman because she moved behind her husband. As if he would strike a lady. But he would have no trouble taking out Lord Grafton.

“I advise you to not speak to my fiancée in that manner, my lady.”

“Fiancée!” Several people—including Diana—gasped.

“Yes, sweetheart.” He directed his comments to a very pale Diana. “I know we wished to keep it a secret until we returned to London, but it seems the cat was let out of the bag.” Hunt turned to the group at the doorway, wrapping his arm around Diana’s shoulders. “Since Lady Diana has just now accepted my hand in marriage, I assume you will all wish us happy.”

A few ‘best wishes’ and ‘wish you wells’ drifted over the group.

Lady Grafton narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what you are trying to pull off here, Lord Huntington, but I had better see a wedding in the near future or your so-called fiancée will be totally disgraced.”

She had the nerve to wag her finger at Diana. “No running off to Italy this time to ward off a scandal, gel.”

Hunt had had enough of the banter and nonsense that Lady Grafton herself had started. He cursed himself for not considering that if Lady Eunice had planned to have it look as though he’d compromised her, arrangements would have been made to have someone ‘find’ him and the young lady alone in the library.

Although he would be eternally grateful he’d not been found with Lady Eunice, he still had a problem on his hands. Lady Grafton was correct. Diana had no choice this time. She had to marry or be forever banned from the ton.

And that left him with a woman he dreamt many a night having in his bed, but never had he thought to have to deal with her as his wife.

His wife.

Blasted hell. Lady Trouble was all his.

Diana turned to him and lowered her voice, which wasn’t entirely necessary since the crowd at the doorway had doubled in size and their voices would cover the sound of an uprising at Newgate. “Hunt, I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe.”

“Come.” He moved her forward and the crowd began to divide. “My fiancée and I have had enough celebration for one evening. If you will excuse us.”

Before anyone could recover enough to stop them, they made their way through the group. Hunt directed Diana past the ballroom, which amazingly enough still held quite a few people, and into a small drawing room that he’d noticed before had a French door to the patio.

* * *

Diana took a deep breath of the fresh air from the garden which helped to fade the black dots in her eyes. Then she began to shiver, the chill coming from deep inside. Hunt removed his jacket and placed it gently over her shoulders.

“Thank you.” It warmed her both inside and out. The light scent of bay rum emanated from the jacket, reminding her that this time she was not alone in disaster. No, somehow she had managed to drag her life-long rescuer into her mess.

She stared out over the shrubbery, her thoughts so convoluted she was starting to feel the beginning of a megrim. Best to get this over with before the headache hit her full force and she had to go to bed. She took a deep breath. “I appreciate you attempting to save me once again, Hunt, but you do realize we cannot marry. Not each other, anyway.”

He studied her for a minute. “There is no choice here, Diana.”

“There are always choices. Admit it. You would never marry me unless you were forced.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s not true.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. I thought I could at least count on honesty from you.”

“I am being honest.” He pulled her into his arms, his eyes boring into her, making parts of her body she generally ignored come to life. “I must admit I can’t stop thinking about taking you to my bed ever since I saw that portrait.”