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Her aunt and Florence seemed to have forgotten about her but Matthew saw her leaving the drawing-room, and she caught the question in his eyes when she glanced at him. In the hallway, she asked a footman where the ladies’ retiring room was and he told her.
Diana found the room and sat in a chair, taking in large gulps of air to calm her nerves. When it was taking too long, she scooped some water into her hands and wet her face. The coldness helped her racing heart slow and she began to feel better. After drying her face and hands, she remained in the room for several minutes until she was certain she was ready to rejoin the others.
When she opened the door and stepped out, the shadowy silhouette of a gentleman across the hall caught her eye.
And as he turned around, everything she had done to calm herself was undone when she recognized him. It was Baron Crawford.
Chapter 8
“Diana Pearson?TheDiana Pearson?” Crawford grinned. Diana had lost her voice from shock. “I was unsure it was you when I arrived and saw you leaving the drawing-room. I had to follow you to be certain my eyes did not deceive me.”
She clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling. “Why-why are you here? What do you want?”
“Now, is this how you greet an old friend, Diana?” His dark eyes were as filled with ill-intent as she recalled.
“We are not friends,” she spat, bile rising in her throat, “and I ask you to desist from addressing me by my Christian name.”
“Why not?” he asked as if he was not the same man who had ruined her life and cost her the only man she had ever dreamed of marrying. “You would not have minded me calling you Diana in that library.”
“I would have.” She moved past him. “Now, if you will excuse me—"
He caught her arm. “I will not excuse you,Diana. What are you doing here?”
“It is no business of yours.” She wrested her arm from his grip. She was curious about what he was doing in Matthew’s home but she would rather leave than know how they had become acquainted. The greatest mistake of her life had been allowing herself to be alone with him. She would not repeat it.
“It is if you want me to pretend I do not know you,” he said. “I came to Kent searching for something. I now have cause to believe I have found something much better.” Diana turned around and began walking away but he called after her, forcing her to stop. “I can remind those who have forgotten everything that happened between us.”
“Nothing happened between us!” she whispered harshly.
“Oh, but something did,” he smirked. “And I am perhaps a wine glass away from clumsily spilling it out at some upcoming ball to the lovely residents of Kent. Luckily for you, I think we can come to an arrangement to keep me sober.”
“What?” Diana stared at him in disbelief. “You will extort me?”
He shrugged. “I need funds, Diana, and you need your past hidden. I think we can come to some agreement.” He stepped forward and reached to touch her. Diana quickly stepped back, out of his reach. Smiling, he tilted his head and assessed her. “You are more slender than I recall…but still just as lovely.”
Diana flinched. “And you are no less pathetic.”
His smile remained. “Think about my offer and I shall see you again. I hope you will be smart enough to make the right decision this time.” He laughed as he walked in the direction of the drawing-room.
This time? What does he mean by that?
Diana clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, breathing. Just when she thought nothing could be worse than Mr. Kingsley’s questions, Crawford had returned to torment her, and she did not know what to do. She wanted to leave the castle and return home but she was expected to rejoin the others.
Taking one fortifying breath after another, Diana steeled her spine and walked back to the drawing-room, doing her damndest to keep an impassive mask on her face. The butler was coming out of the drawing-room when she arrived, and she found everyone leaving for the dining room.
Matthew introduced her to Baron Crawford, saying, “He is one of my business associates.”
She was surprised to hear that but guessed Matthew did not know the man’s true nature. Diana pretended she did not know him and greeted him with as much cordiality as she could manage.
Thankfully, Mr. Kingsley did not ask her any more questions as they ate, and Crawford pretended to be the most charming gentleman at the table, and she wondered how a man could possess dual personalities and be in perfect control of each one.
“It is rather nice to know that I am not the only nervous one at the table,” Miss Kingsley whispered to Diana, surprising her because she thought she seemed too shy to speak.
“You can tell that I am nervous?” Diana asked. They were seated next to each other, which made conversing in low tones very easy.
“Yes,” Miss Kingsley smiled. “You are quite adept at hiding but I could not help noticing the slight tremor in your hand when you handled your spoon,” she elaborated, and Diana giggled at her obvious slip-up, feeling better for the first time since the evening took an unfortunate turn.
“I suppose we can consider ourselves kindred spirits in that regard,” she said, and Miss Kingsley’s smile widened. Perhaps she was in want of a friend. Diana certainly needed one.
