Free The Seducer by Madeline Hunter Page B

Diane. She recognized tonight’s impatience for what it really was, and had recognized his pique upon his return this afternoon as more than a guardian’s concern.
    He remembered the irrational anger that had built while he watched the yellow muslin nestled close to a dark coat. A good thing it had been young Duclairc. His mood had been black enough that he might have thrashed another man. Whether Duclairc had believed the “cousin” part would not matter. He would retreat in either case.
    But what of the others? And there undoubtedly would be others.
    He reminded himself that it was the plan and he should be glad of his success. His own reaction was merely an unforeseen complication, and he would conquer it.
    Diane entered the library. No trumpets blared, no floral scent filled the air, but he knew of her arrival at once, despite her silent step.
    He looked over and his mouth went dry.
    She stood a bit stiffly, charmingly unsure of her effect. The violet gown and cream lace made her skin appear to be pale porcelain. Her abundant hair was piled in a loose style that begged to be undone by a man’s hands. The other women at the opera would create a riotous bouquet. Amidst their full blooms, Diane would be one discreet rose, its petals barely parted in a teasing lure of what was to come.
    It was the plan, and it had succeeded.
    Only the wrong man had become enthralled.
    “She will do, Daniel?” Jeanette asked.
    “Of course, but there was never any doubt on that. However, I should probably bring my sword to protect her from the admirers.”
    It was the sort of thing a cousin would say, blandly gracious and politely flattering. He doubted it sounded as cool as he had planned, because a deep flush crept up Diane’s neck to her cheeks. For an instant, while he approached to escort her to the waiting coach, her gaze met his in that provocative, cautious way that she had.
    That was the truly hellish part of this. Not only Jeanette knew. Diane did too. She might not understand it, but she felt it. It frightened her.
    As well it might.
             
    It took her the whole way to the theater to recover from that look.
    It had only lasted a moment while he walked toward her, but her heart had stopped for what seemed forever. When her pulse began again, it pounded all the way to the opera, because the commanding magnetism still poured out of him like a beckoning force.
    The opulence of the theater and the rich finery of the crowd stunned her. She could only look and look, and was sure she appeared as a wide-eyed child.
    It was a night of dazzling drama and brilliance. She floated beside Daniel in a dream. His friends visited the box, some whom she had met, like Vergil Duclairc, but most of whom she had not. At the lavish dinner between acts, she spied a few of Jeanette’s friends with men other than their husbands. Unlike Daniel and herself, they were obviously not in the company of their cousins.
    The surroundings mesmerized her enough that Daniel ceased to do so. The continuous assault on her senses made her heady, and the flatteries of the men’s glances and greetings left her feeling bold. After the meal, she and Daniel found themselves alone in the box for the first time all night.
    “Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
    “Jeanette will not come. She is not shy about her infirmity, but being carried into a theater is too conspicuous even for her.”
    “Why not bring your Margot? It appears that other men have done so.”
    “I brought you because I thought you might enjoy it. You have not been to the opera before, have you?” He paused. “I realize that in your case innocence does not mean ignorance, but that was another impertinent question, and I think that you know it.”
    “I have discovered that I get frank answers when I am impertinent.”
    “Then perhaps you should ask such questions of my sister. It is more appropriate for her to explain the ways of the world to you.”
    “I have questions that