She loved Ashcroft.
And still she meant to use and abandon him.
She closed her eyes, knowing she reached the limits of what she could endure. She couldn’t lie to Ashcroft anymore. She loved him with all her heart, and she recognized that the best thing she could do for him was to disappear from his life forever.
How would she do this without tarnishing herself in his eyes? Without revealing the plot to bear his child? She didn’t know. She only knew she had to break with Ashcroft before she caused more harm than she had already.
She felt like a coward. But she’d reached the limit of her resources. She’d hide for a little while, then armor herself to take up the tangled strands of her life.
“Diana, wake up.”
Laura’s voice and the gentle shake on her shoulder penetrated Diana’s disturbed dreams. Reluctantly, she raised heavy lids to see her friend bending over her.
Laura straightened, hands on her hips, the lamplight revealing a concerned light in her dark eyes. Behind Laura the door angled open to the black-and–white-tiled entrance hall.
Diana stirred in the chair and winced. Her neck was stiff and at an awkward angle. She must have dropped off to sleep. Not surprising. Passion was exhausting. And a guilty conscience kept her awake even when she found the chance to rest.
“What time is it?” Weariness slurred her question. Gingerly, she sat up and pushed back the tumble of hair. During her impromptu nap, her insecure hairstyle had collapsed.
“Eight. James only just told me you came in.
I assumed you were still out.”
Not as late as she’d thought. “Have you had dinner?”
“No. Will you join me? Or do you have another appointment?”
‘Another appointment,’ as they were both aware, meant meeting Ashcroft. “No.”
Diana was surprised to note that she was hungry. As usual, the suite at Lord Peregrine’s had been furnished with an extravagant repast, but she and Ashcroft had been too eager for each other to pay attention to food. Afterward, she could have stayed to share a meal, but she’d been frantic to leave before she gave away the whole squalid scheme.
“I’ll inform the staff.” Laura turned away, then paused when a sharp rap resounded at the front door.
Consternation brought Diana to her feet. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Laura’s lips flattened in displeasure. “I know nobody in London.”
Diana tensed in sudden fear, ignoring the unspoken complaint. “Could it be Burnley?”
Dear God. Not now. Not when she was distressed and confused and looked like a slattern. Not when she smelled like a woman who’d spent all day under a man.
Laura met her eyes. “I doubt he’d knock.”
The imperious summons sounded again, echoing through the house with unmistakable demand. Where on earth were the servants?
As if he heard her silent question, James the footman dashed up from downstairs. He was chewing and buttoning his coat. Clearly he’d been enjoying his dinner. Why not? This house wasn’t exactly inundated with callers. He hardly needed to be on duty every minute.
Diana turned urgently to Laura. “I can’t imagine who it is, but if they want to see me, I’m not at home.”
Her friend nodded and left, shutting the door after her. Surely their visitor must have the wrong residence. The only people who knew Diana’s London address were Burnley and the few servants of unimpeachable reliability he used.
She waited by the mantel, staring blankly into the unlit grate. Voices rumbled outside, but the house was remarkably soundproof.
When Laura opened the door a few seconds later, Diana lifted her head, expecting to hear that their visitor had left.
Diana frowned in puzzlement. Laura was pale, and her features were set. Her hands twisted in her skirts in an uncharacteristic display of nerves.
When Diana peered past her friend’s shoulder, her heart staggered to a horrified stop.