That, strangely, angered him. Of course she knew that he had stayed hours beside her bed, sweating, worrying, wishing he could take her place, breathe for her, take her in his arms to warm her? He strode into the bedchamber without a knock to see Diana, propped up against three pillows, her cheeks flushed.
"That is not exactly true," he said. "Leave her be, Lucia. She will just make herself ill again if you keep nagging at her."
"What isn't exactly true?" Lucia asked.
"That I dislike her."
"Would you please stop talking around me, Lyon? I am here, you know."
"Very well. I don't dislike you, Diana. However, you know as well as I do that it would be most unwise for me to be your host at my estate. Lucia is meddling."
"I have no intention of going to your estate. If you think I should enjoy you as a host, you are sorely mistaken. I am going home."
"You are going no place until you are well again."
"I will be perfectly myself again by next Monday. Lucia, you will please find me a chaperone for my trip home? You did promise."
"I find that 'perfectly myself' is a most odd contradiction in your case, Diana."
"Oh, be quiet!"
Lyon was quiet. He continued to upset her, and now wasn't the time. He didn't want her ill again.
To his surprise, Lucia capitulated. "Very well, my dear. If you must insist upon returning to your father, I shall make the arrangements."
"Lucia, I am not certain that ---"
"Shut up. Lyon! It is not any of your affair!"
"It certainly is," he said. Then, to his own immense chagrin and surprise, he added, "I shall be accompanying you. And you will stay in bed for as long as Dr. McComber tells you to. I don't want to have to nurse you aboard some idiot ship."
Lucia said not a word. Diana stared at him as if he'd gained three extra kings in his deck of cards.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," he said, throwing up his hands, "I might as well accede to Oliver Mendenhall's wishes. I will go there, see to my inherited plantation, and then come home. That is all there is to it."
"Of course," said Lucia in her blandest voice.
"I also find that London doesn't much amuse me at present. A brief change of scene will be beneficial. You know, Lucia. New experiences, new knowledge."
"What about your little amour?" Diana said, her voice laced with mockery. "She no longer amuses you?"
"Not a single new experience," said Lyon.
"How very tedious, for both of you."
"Really, Diana, a lady doesn't know about such things!"
"Aunt, what you mean is I should be willing to accept such awful behavior from gentlemen and keep my mouth closed? Pretend even that gentlemen don't indulge in such behavior?"
"Exactly," said Lyon. "But I am beginning to despair of your behavior. Now, look at yourself. You're flushed again. For heaven's sake, stop getting so excited." His inadvertent words immediately brought images of Diana, naked, moaning in his arms, those endless beautiful legs of hers again slightly parted, and he flushed. He said, furious at himself, "As for this so-called awful behavior from gentlemen, I would suggest that ladies indulge their lust just as feely."
"Well, I haven't!"
"Doubtless you will. As soon as you manage to trap an unsuspecting gentleman, you ---" He broke off, took a deep breath, but before he could continue more calmly, Diana said, her color high, "Trap a gentleman! Why would a self-respecting female want to trap one of you fools? If the gentlemen I have met thus far are a fair example --- and that includes you, my lord --- I should rather become fish bait."
He managed now to find that calm voice, once so much a part of him and sadly in absence since Diana's arrival. He even managed to look amused. "Fish bait? But of course you are right. Do forgive me for ranting at you. Get the chit well, Lucia. I will accompany her back to her father."
As he strode from the bedchamber, he heard her mutter to Lucia, "Good heavens, Aunt, I don't even know what lust is."