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As they walked, her toes ached where Lord Burlington had bruised them. But she felt the pain as if from a great distance. It was a queer sense of detachment, this. As if someone else were experiencing these events, as if someone else were causing her legs to move her forward a step at a time. Even the music seemed weirdly muffled to her ears.
It was only belatedly that she realized Harrow was leading her once more to the back of the ballroom. Of course. They’d come in through the gardens, after all. Though she knew it would only add fuel to the fire for them to leave by the same path, she couldn’t find it in herself to be anything but grateful. She’d be home within just a few minutes.
Before they made it to the exit, however, Harrow stopped and turned.
As he swung about, Diana saw they’d been followed by their host. Blackthorn joined them at the door, his expression full of uncertainty as he extended a tentative hand.
At once, Harrow reached out and clasped it, granting him a broad smile as he pulled the other man close enough to murmur something at his ear. She didn’t catch his words, but whatever he’d said caused Blackthorn to shoot him a relieved smile as they parted. The message to all observing the exchange was clear: what had transpired tonight had caused no enmity between them.
Diana took her cue from this, so that when Blackthorn bowed over her hand, she forced her lips into a sultry smile. The look he cast up at her as he straightened was filled with a mixture of apprehension and naked longing. He’d won the prize he sought, and he’d managed to circumvent the obstacles she’d thrown in his path, but it was clear he had misgivings.
He’s not the only one. She stood and waited while their host summoned a servant with a lamp to light their path back across the gardens. The ache in the toes of her left foot had become a painful throbbing now, and all she wanted was to be home, soaking them in hot water. Just a little while longer…
As soon as they crossed the threshold, Harrow surprised her by swooping down and picking her up. Grateful to be off her feet, she laid her head on his shoulder and let him carry her without protest. The walk back through the gardens felt a mile long and seemed to take forever. So many words perched on the tip of her tongue, but she dared not speak until they were inside.
The moment the door to her house swung open, Harrow gave the gate key to the servant posted there to await their return, along with instructions to secure the gate and then give the key to the housekeeper.
A soft laugh broke from Diana’s throat, easing the tightness there as he climbed the stairs still carrying her. “I can only imagine what they must all be thinking.” Blackthorn would know it was her sore feet which had prompted her protector’s gallant act, but no one else would. They’d all think Harrow gone mad with jealousy, hauling her across the gardens and upstairs to doubtless ravish her the instant they arrived in her bedchamber.
Relief flooded her as Harrow deposited her on her bed and told Francine to have the kitchens ready water for a bath and bring it up in half an hour. She didn’t move until he came back, shut the door, and drew the curtains. Then, knowing it was safe, she finally addressed him. “You knew he’d win.”
His face was a study in serenity when he answered, “I thought he might, yes.”
“I’m still a virgin,” she reminded him, not bothering to mince words. “Or have you forgotten?”
“What difference does that make?”
Her temper flared, making it an effort to keep her voice down. “It will make a world of difference the moment he discovers it!”
“Then you do intend to go through with it,” he said, a faint smile curving his mouth.
“As if I have any other choice.” But her words lacked any real bite.
“Of course you have a choice, Diana,” he scolded, kneeling on the floor beside the bed to take one of her feet into his lap and gently remove one of her dancing slippers. “If you don’t truly want him, I’m happy to negotiate different compensation.” He looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. “I would have thought by now you’d know me better than to think I’d allow him to touch you without your enthusiastic consent. Had I thought you did not want his attentions, I would have called him out for his cheek. I still can.”
That he would risk his life to protect her—not for the sake of his own reputation, but to p
reserve her virtue, should she want to keep it… The backs of her eyelids stung, and she blinked back tears. No, she didn’t want Harrow to call Blackthorn out, and she told him so. “But the problem of my virginity remains. As soon as he discovers it, our ruse is ended.”
Harrow peeled off her stocking and examined her foot, cursing under his breath at the purple bruises already visible. “Burlington is a menace. There ought to be a law prohibiting the man from dancing,” he growled, making her laugh in spite of herself. “I won’t tell you to pretend otherwise because, as a man who once took a virgin bride, I know all too well it is not something that can be hidden. But our actions tonight guarantee his silence on the matter. He may discover the truth, but I can promise you he will never speak of it.”
“You’re as bad as he is, taking such risks,” she grumped, wincing as he liberated her other foot. It was even worse off. “This needlessly jeopardizes everything we’ve worked to build.”
“Love is never needless.”
She felt the blood leave her face at his words. “Love has nothing to do with it.”
“Does it not?”
Something in her chest tightened. But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. “We hardly know each other.”
He pulled a wry face. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other. If you’re not in love, you soon will be. As for him? He’s already long gone over the edge of that cliff.”
Astonishment stole all her words for a moment. She ignored his assertions about her feelings, instead addressing those concerning Blackthorn’s. “Do you mean to say that you think…you think he’s in love with me?”
Her best friend chuckled as he grasped her legs by the ankles and swung them up onto the bed. “A blind man could tell, although he likely has no idea yet, himself. Men like him are often that way.”
Diana didn’t question it. Harrow was very good at reading others, and she trusted his opinion. But believing Blackthorn was in love with her changed nothing. “It makes no difference. As soon as he realizes he’s been lied to, he’ll figure out the rest of the truth, putting you and René in danger. No. I won’t do it.”
