Because he wished to hold her and to breathe in her fresh beauty every day. “You know.”
She sucked in a hard breath. “Do you wish to know where I hid your pistol and bullets? In the drawer of the writing table in your bedchamber. You see? I trusted you more than you trusted yourself.” Shoulders back, she went quickly to the house.
Chapter 22
My dearest Lady Justice,
My admiration for you has grown such that I cannot hide the news: I have lost another member of the Falcon Club. Since you have become so adept at hounding down my fellow club members, I wonder if I could prevail upon you to search out this one and bring her back into the fold. She is difficult to miss: walks with a stoop, carries a cane, suffers from myopia. I haven’t an idea as to where she has gone. Perhaps your sleuthing skills will save the day.
With all my gratitude and
ever increasing affection,
Peregrine
Secretary, The Falcon Club
To Peregrine, at large:
You are a cabbage head. I hadn’t any idea that one of your members was a lady. I am not a nitwit, Mr. Bird Man. You chose to describe a woman of ill appearance to make my quest seem ridiculous. But your attempt at cleverness reveals you; you would not have mentioned a lady at all if there weren’t one in your club. No gentleman would have even paused to consider it.
Point goes to Lady Justice.
You are arrogant and bored, and thus seek to taunt me to amuse yourself. Idle wealth corrupts as swiftly as absolute power. You, Mr. Peregrine, are corrupted.
— Lady Justice
My dearest lady,
To be corrupted with you would be to live heaven upon earth. Name the day, the hour, the location. I will bring a single red rose and my ardor.
Yours entirely,
Peregrine
Dear Peregrine,
I am not lost. I am here in London. You have not seen me because I am still cross with you for abusing Raven with that insulting assignment. I will come see you, but unhappily, as I do not Like you now.
Fondly,
Sparrow
P.S. What on earth has happened to you? You have become very silly in this public correspondence with Lady Justice. I think you are infatuated. I daresay that will prove most inconvenient if she turns out to be a seventy-year-old man.
Chapter 23
To the gold-and-black liveried maids and footmen in the Earl of Savege’s town house, the gathering of three ladies appeared to be a cozy tea shared between fond sisters.
In fact it was a conclave of thorough liars.
“My father needn’t be told the truth.” Lady Savege’s voice was hushed. “We will tell him that Diantha and Wyn renewed their acquaintance here in town as soon as she arrived and he offered for her immediately.”
“That will be best,” the Countess of Blackwood replied in subdued tones.
Diantha swung around from the window through which she was staring onto the street. Kitty sat across the tea tray from Serena, shining brunette head bent close to honey blond in conference.
“You will lie to Papa about where I have been?” She stared at both titled ladies, her momentary shock dulling into resignation. She had already learned, after all, that an elegant London gentleman could lie quite well without a qualm. Why not elegant ladies too? “But I always intended to tell him the truth of it afterward. I only withheld the truth before I did it so that I would be able to do it.”
“Yes, darling,” Serena tilted her head. “But now that the deed is done, we must devise an alternate plan.”
The deed had not been done. Not the intended deed. She was no closer to speaking with her mother than she’d been before leaving Devon. But Kitty had not told Serena the entire truth about her errant sojourn. Instead she’d said that Diantha had run away from Brennon Manor for merely an adventure. Perhaps that had been a prudent lie. Serena and her mother had never gotten along when they both lived at Glenhaven Hall.
“I thought I was the only one that lied to Papa in order to embark upon reckless escapades,” she finally said.
Kitty took up the teapot. “No one else need know of your journey than we three, Alex and Leam. Wyn assured me that Mrs. Polley can be trusted as well.” She offered Diantha an interested look. They had not spoken of him on the trip to London, but Kitty must be curious of the details of their time at the abbey.
Diantha turned back to the window and tried to focus on the trees and not the street where she kept expecting to see a black thoroughbred with a rider wearing a black greatcoat. The parlor window overlooked an enormous green square in the middle of London. They had only arrived the previous night and she had seen little of town as yet, but her heart wasn’t in it anyway. She felt peculiarly battered and not at all as though she were embarking upon her debut in society, and certainly not as though she were betrothed to be married.
The soft swish of Serena’s skirts sounded beside her, then her stepsister’s hand slipped through her elbow.
“He is one of my favorite people in the world, Diantha. Kitty’s and our sister Viola’s as well.” She spoke with the gentle grace Diantha always admired. “I cannot pretend to understand why you wished to escape Teresa’s home when you and she are such close friends, nor why you seem so reticent regarding Mr. Yale’s suit. But it cannot be undone now.”
“I am as fond of Teresa as ever.” Her friend would be amazed to learn what had come of her plan. “And I am sensible of the honor Mr. Yale does me. I understand that I am fortunate. But I cannot like it that he offered for me because he feels it is his duty.” She would not admit to them to quite what extent.
“Many a gentleman has offered for a lady upon much less honorable grounds.” Kitty sipped her tea. “And Wyn is not the sort of man to enter into such an alliance lightly.”
Serena’s brow furrowed. “Are you afraid that others will imagine you trapped him into offering? No one else need know how it came about. Even our brother, Tracy.” Diantha’s stepsister did not possess classical beauty; she was far too tall, her shoulders too square, and her blond locks did not approach the sparkling gold of Charity’s and Tracy’s. Their mother had always said Serena would never make a good match—or a match at all—but she had, an exceptionally good match that had plucked her out of spinsterhood and made her a countess. And Serena was happy with it. Alex treated her with remarkable solicitude, and when he looked at her, his eyes shone with pride and something else that Diantha had never seen in either of her fathers’ eyes when they looked at her mother. Genuine affection, and desire.
It occurred to her that she’d never known before what to make of that look in a man’s eyes. Now she did. Wyn had said he liked her. He’d said he desired her. But he had also lied to her about the most important matter between them.
“Thank you.” What else could she say? That she didn’t care if everyone in society knew she had trapped him into it? That although at the time it had all seemed so adventurous and natural, in fact she manipulated him and he lied to her and now they must marry? She drew a fortifying breath.
Serena squeezed her hand. “Now we must visit the modiste so that when Mr. Yale arrives you will be adorned to enter society as elegantly disposed as he.”