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Matthew nodded but did not intend to sleep because he had much to do from estate matters to his investigation of both Crawford and last night’s intruder. After his bath and a meal, he went to his study, and he could hear everyone in the drawing-room.
Smiling at the thought of Diana, he closed his study door and went to sit behind his desk, reaching for the first missive from a stack that was waiting for him and opening it.
Your Grace,
I hope this reaches you well. I have looked into Miss Pearson as you requested. She is the daughter of Viscount Edgington…
Matthew read quickly because he was not learning anything new until he reached the paragraph that mentioned a scandal.
One of the ladies I spoke to revealed to me that a Miss Annabelle Windhill called to the attention of several ladies that night that something was occurring in the library…
Matthew frowned, thinking. He recalled what Diana had told him about her friend telling her to meet in the library to view a painting together. Could this Annabelle have placed Diana in a position where she would be compromised? Even if she had not, she had exposed Diana and no true friend ever did such a thing. His grip on the sheet tightened, and he cursed.
Suddenly, the door opened, drawing his head up. If there had been a knock, he did not hear it, and his eyes narrowed when Florence walked in, an assured smile on her lips. Matthew rose slowly, every part of him tense and apprehensive.
Chapter 31
Matthew watched Florence close the door behind her, and he set the sheet in his hand down. “Did you need something?” he asked, puzzled by her presumptuousness.
She smiled and approached his desk. “I came to thank you for your generosity toward my cousin, Matthew.”
He had to exert some effort to unclench his jaw. “You do not have to thank me, Miss Dervin. Diana is very important to me.”
“Miss Dervin?” Her brows rose, and the cloying smile that rasped against his nerves faded from her face. “How very formal. Is this how you will address an old friend?”
“You are not an old friend, and you know that.”
Her face pinched. “She told you, then.”
“I knew before Diana said anything to me. I also know of your hypocrisy and oppression.”
The determined look she had entered with faltered. “Well, do you know that Diana is ruined?”
Matthew’s fists tightened. “You will mind what you say about my betrothed.”
“She lives with us now because—"
“That is enough!” he growled.
“I am a better match for you, Matthew!” she asserted. “Can you not see that?”
“You will leave this room before I expose you,” he warned. He had evidently underestimated what these women were capable of. If he could be poisoned by them, he could not imagine what Diana had to endure.
“You cannot expose me without placing my reputation at risk.” Her eyes now darted around them as though she was suddenly anxious. “You are an honorable man.”
Matthew was utterly disgusted by her effrontery. “I do not give a tinker’s damn about your reputation. Now, leave.”
She glanced behind her at the closed door, seeming uncertain about something, which puzzled him. Then said, “You will change your mind once you have me.”
Before he could grasp the meaning of what she had just uttered, Florence threw herself at him, her hands clutching the lapels of his coat as she attempted to kiss him. He cursed and pushed her away from him, his anger now blurring the edges of his vision. He marched to the door and jerked it open, sending it swinging on its well-oiled hinges.
The thumps of his boots as he crossed the hall dominated the air, but he could hear the clicks of Florence’s shoes behind him.
“I did not mean to do that!” she frantically called after him, but he ignored her and continued walking. What she had meant to do did not matter because she had already acted. “I was forced to! I would lose my home if I did not.”
Hearing that angered him more, and he paused at the drawing-room door to take a breath to repress his ire before walking in.
Diana looked up as Matthew appeared in the doorway, his demeanor dark, and his sculpted shoulders rigid. Her heart began to beat faster because something was wrong, yet she could not imagine what.
