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His eyes lit with amusement. “Well, you are quite the loveliest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I cannot contradict that general view.”
She forced herself to look him calmly in the eye and breathe as if her heart weren’t hammering against her ribs. “And what of your opinion concerning my character?”
His smile gentled. “Your cleverness is eclipsed only by your compassion and loyalty, Lady Diana. Lord Harrow is indeed quite the luckiest of men, for his wife is a saint and his lover unlike any woman I’ve ever known or even heard of. Had you not become his mistress, you would have made a wonderful wife.”
Diana nearly laughed aloud over his visible discomfiture as he realized what he’d said. Pity moved her to be merciful. “I doubt many of the gentlemen that once considered a match with me would agree with you.”
“That’s only because none of them have taken the opportunity to get to know you.”
The quiet statement sent a tendril of heat snaking down to coil at the base of her spine. “I’m far too outspoken for such domestic bliss,” she said, hoping to steer the conversation into less treacherous waters. “Having been granted relative freedom to do as I please, I fear I would chafe under the yoke of a husband’s authority. I prefer to remain untamed.”
“To tame you would be an egregious sin,” he replied, his eyes darkening dangerously. “Better to let a wild creature come of its own volition to an open hand offering an enticement than to trap it and risk forever destroying both its nature and inherent beauty.”
And like some wild creature faced for the first time with a huntsman intent on taking it for a trophy, Diana froze, even as the coil of desire within her tightened. This must stop. Immediately. “I thought you were decided against poaching?”
A guilty look flickered in his eyes an instant before a wry smile tilted his lips and chased it away. “I am, indeed. And, unless I’m mistaken, no offer save that of friendship has been laid before you.”
It was a blatant half-truth, but she could work with such. She squared her shoulders. “Then I accept your offer. As a friend, I hope you’ll be discreet regarding our conversation today. I should be…” She chose her next words with utmost care, “disappointed, if Lady Harrow ever learned of it and became distressed.”
At this, his smile broadened into something more genuine. “Then allow me to assure you of my unrelenting silence on the matter. The grave will be more forthcoming than I, should anyone inquire of me concerning our exchange. In fact, you may henceforth consider my lips sealed against all temptation to share our conversations with anyone.”
Only time would tell whether he spoke true or if this was just another pretty speech from a right rogue. She raised her voice a bit. “Then I count myself fortunate to name you among my friends.”
“Splendid. And perhaps we should celebrate our newfound friendship?” he suggested, matching her volume. Again, the smile widened an increment, giving rise to a dimple beside his mouth.
The sight of it sent an unexpected bolt of want lancing through her. Suspicion made her want to narrow her eyes at him, but she forced herself to maintain exterior calm. “What do you propose?”
“A picnic,” he said at once. “Oh, I know I’m throwing a ball soon, but such events lack warmth. I’ve invited several of my closest friends to dine outdoors with me here in this very garden three days hence. I now invite both you and Lord Harrow to join us.”
Harrow’s voice preceded his appearance by only a moment as he returned to her side. “To what have we been invited, may I ask?”
Feeling a burst of affection for her protector for coming to her rescue, Diana took up one of Harrow’s hands and held it between her own. “A picnic,” she told him, nodding toward Blackthorn with enthusiasm.
Taking her cue, Blackthorn began to elaborate. As he did so, she again took his measure. If he kept his word and mentioned nothing of their conversation to his friends, which she would ascertain while at this picnic of his, then perhaps she might be willing to tolerate his neighborly presence.
Still, they would need to be extra careful. Harrow had visited her several times, but his first romantic rendezvous with René at this address was to occur tomorrow evening. As her protector graciously accepted Blackthorn’s picnic invitation, she contemplated the situation.
Seeing how often Blackthorn’s gaze flicked over to her as he was talking to Harrow, an idea began to form. The man could hardly keep his eyes off her. She imagined his curious gaze was frequently drawn toward her house.
A wicked chuckle lodged in her throat. Perhaps she might use Blackthorn’s meddlesome nature against him. Instead of having all the curtains drawn before the couple’s arrival, what if she left them open for a little while? Just long enough to let anyone who might be watching witness a bit o
f carefully orchestrated exhibition? Seeing her “entertain” Harrow and another gentleman—René would be unrecognizable—would sorely challenge any further assumptions on his part.
The idea almost made her laugh aloud. As soon as she and Harrow had a moment of privacy, she’d ask his opinion. Oh, it would be such fun!
And yet…it had been nice to have someone’s genuine admiration, even if only for a little while. He had truly admired her.
Don’t be a fool! He’d admired the facade. Not her. Not Diana. Though he’d come closer to uncovering her true self than anyone, Blackthorn hadn’t managed to get under her armor completely. And she didn’t intend to let him.
As soon as they’d extricated themselves from her neighbor and were once more safely behind walls, windows, and wainscoting, she told Harrow her idea.
A burst of delighted laughter was his initial response. But he quickly sobered. “You really are quite terrified of him. And not, I think, entirely for my sake.”
“I am,” she admitted, hating herself for it. “He has this way of looking at me that makes me feel…” Naked? Exposed? Vulnerable? “As if he can see right through me. I fear even the smallest misstep, lest he know me for a liar and tell everyone.”
Harrow’s comforting grasp on her shoulders made her look up at him. “I’ve already begun drawing him in, my dear. Within a few weeks, our names will be irrevocably linked as bosom friends in the minds of the Ton. I guarantee it. All you must do is maintain appearances here. And I think your plan is a damned good one.”
So it was that the following day René arrived incognito as “an acquaintance from the club” alongside Harrow, and Diana played hostess to the pair with extra gusto, joining in several games of cards and then charades in her cozy, garden view salon…with the curtains open. The abundant libations they consumed—diluted wine and tea-tinted water—rounded out the deception. When Harrow joined her and their new “friend” in an embrace in which Diana was caught between the two men, they made certain it was directly before the broad windows.
