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"Take care of what?" Diana asked, unconsciously leaning her face closer to his.

"None of your affair. Be quiet, else I might drop you. Lord knows you deserve it."

"Come, you have not been at all reticent with my before. Have you suddenly become a coward? Yes, I suppose that you have."

Goaded, he said, "Tomorrow I shall find a pleasantcompanion."

"Ah. As in a little amour? To hide away?"

He pulled up short on the top step of Lucia's town house and stared at her, his face only an inch from hers. "What do you know of such things"

"Your very nice Charlotte told me that you and all gentlemen have these amours hidden away. It sounded most odd to me, as if you were secreting rodents in your house."

He laughed, he couldn't help himself. "You, Diana, should be whipped."

"I think she should be whipped. She also informed me that you didn't like ladies, just these little amours, after she broke your heart."

"For someone who has been in London --- out of society --- for less than a day, you have dug up more dirt than I would in a year."

"Nonsense. She doesn't like me and ---"

"And what? Are you the coward now?"

"You are standing still, Lyonel, the door is open, and it is quite cold out here. And you will strain your back with my great weight."

"All true. And ---"

At last he entered the house. He eased her down, letting her slide against the length of him. Again, he saw the startled, bewildered look in her eyes and wondered at himself. His gentleman's code seemed to be tottering on the brink. "Yes," he said firmly to himself, "tomorrow." He sighed. "You are tedious, Diana. Go to bed. Soak your feet. Pop out of your gown. Just get thee gone."

"You, my lord, are a bore, a lout, a butcherer of Shakespeare, an obvious rake ---"

"Rake! Surely Charlotte didn't go that far?"

"Well, no. I heard that wonderful word and wanted to use it. You gave me the opportunity, and well, I couldn't pass it up, could I?"

"No, of course not. Good night."

He patted her cheek, turned on his heel, and left. Didier appeared out of the shadows and nodded to Diana.

"Good night, Didier."

"Good night, miss."

She was relieved that he did not comment on her stockinged feet and her slippers dangling by their ribbons in her right hand. Had he seen Lyonel holding her?

It occurred to Diana as she snuggled under the covers some thirty minutes later that Lyonel had spoken about a companion when he was holding her. It was probably nothing more than an interest evoked by the close proximity of her bosom, she thought, depressed.

She touched her fingers to her breast and wondered why gentlemen were so very interested. Just because they were swelled up, like her feetexcept she stuck out there all of the time. After all, her nanny, the sharp-tongued, black-as-night Dido, had told her quite specifically when she was but fourteen that "de melons be for de chiles." Dido had no use for men, so Diana assumed that she wouldn't include them in the "chile" category.

Or maybe she would.

She was suddenly seized with such a bout of homesickness that she caught a sob in her throat. She'd wanted dido to come to England with her, but her father had been firmly against it. He'd said, "No, my love, there is too much feeling about slavery in England at this point. People simply wouldn't understand. You must trust me on this."

And so she'd traveled to England with strangers, an English planter and his family, from St. Thamas.

And she'd had to leave her father, Grainger, their overseer, her mare, Tanis, DidoHer mind faltered as fatigue overtook her. Her last thought before succumbing was of Lyonel, her cousin of sorts, who had picked her up and held her close and made her feel so very odd.

Lyonel found his little amour the very next evening when he visited the theater. Her name was Lois, and she affected no French accent, for which he was profoundly grateful. She came from Birmingham, was fresh, quite pretty in a plump, plentiful manner, and, of course, had no means to support herself. He ignored three summonses, each more imperious than the last from Lucia, and plowed Lois until she finally said, in her light, breathless voice, "My lord, it's enough, I beg of you."


Tags: Catherine Coulter Magic Trilogy Romance