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A savage expression crossed his face, and he made a slashing gesture with his righ
t hand. “Stop talking about other women. They don’t matter. In your heart, you know that.”
“I don’t matter either,” she said softly and with a bitterness that came from knowing she spoke the truth.
“Of course you do.” His eyes sharpened as they did when he suddenly hit upon the winning argument in a discussion. “You don’t want to matter. I wonder why.”
Fear iced her blood. This time she did back up a step. She’d turn and flee if she wasn’t sure he’d come after her, propriety be damned. “I can’t believe you expect a lifetime commitment from your other bits of muslin.”
She saw him disregard her comment as the inflammatory remark it was intended to be. How had he become so familiar with her thoughts and feelings? It wasn’t fair. He was the only man she could imagine spending the rest of her days with, and by insinuating herself into his arms, she had put him forever out of reach.
He just wants you back in his bed until he tires of you. His pride smarts that you leave him. His feelings aren’t engaged. You’re deluded if you imagine they are.
Except that when she observed his bewildered anguish, those cynical, knowing words seemed the delusion. “There’s something else happening.” He frowned thoughtfully. “You’re not a woman who dives into bed with the first man who takes her fancy.”
“How do you know?” she asked sharply.
He shrugged. “I know you.”
She recognized that too, but she rushed to deny his claim. “After less than a month? Don’t make me laugh.”
His eyes darkened. She hated to hurt him, but better to do it like this than deal him the killing blow of learning he’d been little better than a breeding animal.
“Diana…”
“Diana!”
The word seemed to echo. She was so lost in Ashcroft’s gaze, she barely registered the different voice. She blinked and returned to bleak reality.
Her father stood in the doorway, Laura behind him.
With crazy relief, she stared at Ashcroft. She didn’t have to lie again. Her father saved her from damning herself forever in Ashcroft’s eyes.
“I’m coming, Papa.” She saw Ashcroft register her eagerness.
Hostility steamed off her father’s spare frame. “We’re for Marsham.”
“Diana, don’t go.” Ashcroft’s voice played wild melodies up and down her spine.
He grabbed her arm, and this time, she couldn’t evade him. The urgency of his touch only underlined the cruel fact of her betrayal.
She folded her lips together and shook her head helplessly. Trapped between the two men she loved and knowing she wronged both of them, she couldn’t maintain her control.
There was only one thing she could say. It emerged as a tear-thickened whisper. “Good-bye, Tarquin.”
She wrenched free, turned, and stumbled upstairs, grateful beyond words that Ashcroft didn’t pursue her.
Chapter Twenty-three
Ashcroft hammered on John Dean’s door. He’d left London in the dark and arrived in time to hear the church bells ringing out, summoning the faithful to Sunday service.
Although a dog barked inside, nobody answered his insistent knocking. Were they all at church? He was reluctant to barge his way into a public place and make a fool of Diana. Although she’d had little compunction about making a fool of him.
His seething anger surged, but he battened it down. He’d stewed about her and her mysterious purposes all night. Only one thing made sense. That bastard Burnley must have paid for her sojourn in London.
What Ashcroft needed to know was why. And he wanted to know why she’d set out to seduce Burnley’s enemy.
Diana had a lot of explaining to do. And this time, he wasn’t going to let desire distract him, damn it.
