Free The Dangerous Viscount by Miranda Neville Page A

ragamuffin!”
    His cousin’s hateful voice faded to be replaced by Lord Iverley’s dogmatic Northumbrian tones.
    “Never trust a woman, my boy.” If his great-uncle had said it once, he’d said it a thousand times over the years. “A woman will always betray you. It’s in her nature.”
    Lady Georgina invited Diana to join her and Felicia on their morning walk. Covering her bets, Diana guessed, in case Diana managed to land Blakeney, or some other gentleman of a rank she couldn’t ignore. Not that Lady Gee had given up thrusting her sister in Blake’s direction. But she must be aware that the sweet, slightly daffy Felicia wasn’t really up to snuff when it came to bearing her elder’s thwarted matrimonial ambitions.
    Diana looked up whenever she heard footsteps, but so far only gardeners had interrupted their desultory exploration of the walled rose garden. Lady Gee was in full flood of conversation that Diana had to admit was amusing in a cynical fashion. And she needed to keep on her toes. The lady might seem friendly, but likely it was a feint based on her growing awareness that Diana, with her looks and fortune, was strong competition in the marriage stakes.
    “I noticed you only took chocolate for breakfast.Perhaps you are on a reducing diet. I recommend you try boiled chicken and pickled beetroot. The regime did wonders for my aunt.”
    “Which one?” Diana asked, divided between interest and annoyance.
    “Lady Stourbridge.”
    “Forgive me for mentioning it, but Lady Stourbridge is quite … er … voluptuous.” In fact she’d had a brief affair with the Prince Regent whose tastes, everyone knew, ran to large ladies.
    “She used to be much fatter,” Felicia said.
    “That was before Stourbridge died. After he fell off the horse, her hair turned gold from grief and she faded to a mere wisp while she waited in the country for a decent mourning period. Stourbridge was a very mean man who kept her short of pin money. There’s nothing like the anticipation of a brand-new wardrobe to spur one to abstinence.”
    That or an officious French maid.
    “Then she won Prinny’s attention,” Lady Gee went on, “and there didn’t seem any reason for further loss. Quite the opposite. She was on the slender side for him.”
    “Your clothes are lovely, Diana,” Felicia said. “I wish I were a widow.”
    “You have to find a husband before you can achieve that desirable state,” Lady Gee said. “And I recommend you find one who doesn’t complain about your bills.”
    “Husbands aren’t all miserly, Felicia,” Diana assured the younger girl. “Sir Tobias was always most generous, and delightful company too.”
    “Poor Diana. You must miss him dreadfully. Andas I remarked to Felicia,” Lady Gee went on, “the little bit of extra plumpness you’ve gained suits you perfectly. Perhaps your lack of appetite has another cause?”
    A creak of the garden gate made Diana jump again. Lady Gee smiled at her archly. “Are you expecting someone? Mr. Iverley, perhaps. I noticed the two of you were getting on very well.”
    Diana trusted neither of the other ladies knew exactly how well.
    Thanks to Blake’s premature arrival on the scene, she hadn’t had a chance to deliver the planned speech in which she carelessly expressed her pleasure in Sebastian’s attentions while assuring him, with a gay laugh, that she accorded their flirtation no more importance than he did. The source of her uneasiness was a nasty qualm in her stomach that told her he might have been serious. When they exchanged good-nights, in front of the whole company, he’d pressed her hand significantly. He hadn’t appeared at the breakfast table, but she gathered he rose early. The other gentlemen had already eaten and were off performing manly feats of animal slaughter.
    “I like Mr. Iverley,” she said airily. “And of course I welcome the acquaintance of any cousin of Blake’s.”
    “Such an odd young man. Charming, of course.”
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