Earl of Exile (Lords of Scandal 3)

But Lord Sinclair was another matter entirely. The man seemed keenly interested in getting attached to an earl’s daughter. Diana was beautiful, and well-heeled, but still something didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was how quickly he’d stationed himself at Diana’s side.

Even when a man was attracted to a woman, he was more likely to observe for a bit, see if her personality suited him. Or perhaps Exile was wrong and only he did that sort of thing?

He ticked back through all his friends. They resisted love and marriage like the plague. And here was Sinclair, practically throwing himself at Diana. He must have some ulterior motive.

Was he in need of funds and looking to tap into Diana’s dowry? Exile’s lips thinned. She wasn’t some prize, she was an amazing woman.

He reached Diana’s side and held out his elbow. Somewhere in his walk across the room, he’d decided it was his duty to protect her from whatever intentions Sin had. Or perhaps he was simply indulging his own jealousy. “Lady Diana.”

She gave him a puzzled look as she placed her hand in his elbow. “Lord Exmouth.”

He ignored the little voice that reminded him he’d come here for the exact opposite reason. Rather than taking on additional protection, he was supposed to be handing her guard off to another man.

They moved to the pianoforte and he helped her onto the bench, stationing himself over her shoulder, leaning close and allowing his breath to blow across the back of her neck.

“What are you doing?” she half hissed, half whispered.

He cocked one of his brows. “What do ye mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Her gaze narrowed. “Tell me what’s the matter with you.”

He dropped the eyebrow. She was getting to know him too well to lie. “I dinnae like him.”

“Who?” she asked, suddenly looking away and shuffling through the pages of the book to select a song.

Liar, he thought as he leaned closer, his arm brushing hers. He was beginning to understand her too. “Ye ken who.”

She slapped the book on the stand. “Try to keep up.”

“I’ve been trying to do that since I met ye,” he mumbled back, but she heard him anyway and turned to look at him.

“You have?” There was a question in her eyes and he wanted to answer by kissing her right here in front of everyone, claiming her for his own. He looked over at Daring who was staring longingly at his wife, his gaze unwavering from Minnie. That was how Exile felt about Diana.

She started the notes of the song, and he started in surprise. The piece was a high, clear Highland song that echoed through the room with haunting beauty.

He couldn’t move as the music traveled through him, touching his soul. It was exactly like Diana, so perfect for him. She embodied the same deep, soulful beauty that left him breathless with desire and…. He leaned over to turn the page and his arm brushed hers, making her fingers slip on keys. Rather than ruin the music for him, the sound only amplified his feelings. He had a definite effect on her. He drew in her fresh scent as one of her loose hairs tickled his cheek.

He wished he could pull her into his lap, hold her close, and tell her that he loved her. He was in love with her. The revelation stole his breath as he reached over to turn the page again. Hellfire and damnation, no wonder he couldn’t stand to see Sinclair flirt with her.

Then his heart constricted. It didn’t change the promise he’d made to Fiona or the one he’d made to his aunt to honor Ewan’s life. He’d do well to find Fiona a new match before declaring his affection for Diana. It only seemed right.

He squeezed his eyes shut. What if she moved on before he accomplished his plan for Fiona? How was he going to watch Diana with another man? Yes, he knew her secret and he knew that Diana believed she wouldn’t marry—but she would. She was full of too much life to be passed by.

Perhaps he needed to return to his home and claim his bride.

He looked over at Bad and Vice. Even they’d known he was not going to stay at the club long, that’s why they’d brought in Sinclair in the first place. But it felt as though Sin was taking over his life. His friends, his club, his place next to Diana.

His shoulders straightened. His aunt had often told him that his allegiance to his life in England was a problem. The last visit he’d made two years prior, she’d said to him, “Come home. Live here like ye were meant to.”

He’d disagreed. The money he made in London kept the farms well-stocked and the tenants fed. She’d frowned. “Ewan would have done the same but he’d have provided for them in Scotland, where he could also give them his attention.”

Callum sighed. She was right, she’d always been right. He wasn’t the man Ewan had been and his love for Diana only underscored that fact. She wasn’t the perfect Scottish bride he should want. But he did want Lady Diana Chase with all his heart and soul.

The notes of Diana’s song died slowly, echoing through the music room and his chest. “That was beautiful, lass.”

She turned to him, her mouth soft but pulled down at the corners. “The song made me think of you.”

He brushed her shoulder as he thought of Daring’s words. Was there a way to care for Fiona and still keep Diana for himself? He knew that he was being selfish, but he wanted her for himself. His fingertips tingled with the hope that thought brought. “Have ye ever been to the Highlands?”