Free When the Duke Found Love by Isabella Bradford Page B

nearly black hair instead of a more fashionable wig. The long-ago king who’d been their shared ancestor surely had sired a splendid crop of handsome gentlemen, so handsome that it almost seemed unfair to the rest of the peerage.
    And, of course, their indisputable charm gave them an unfair advantage over all the ladies as well—as Sheffield was proving even now.
    “Lady Diana,” he said, taking her hand to raise her. “If I’d known you were here in London, I would not have lingered so long in Paris.”
    He kissed the air over the back of her hand, exactly what was respectfully correct for the circumstances. But there was little that was respectful about how he looked up at Diana over the back of her hand, his gray eyes filled with conspiratorial amusement.
    Had he known all along who she was? And had she really played so neatly into the hands of such an infamous scoundrel that even Aunt Sophronia knew of his reputation?
    Blast him—and blast herself, too, for kissing him like one more in his parade of conquests!
    “Do not be frightened of Sheffield’s boldness, Diana,” Brecon said, clearly misinterpreting her simmering silence for wariness. “He cannot help himself, you know, and speaks such palaver to all ladies from habit, not genuine intent.”
    “True, Lady Diana, all true,” Sheffield said, solemnly agreeing, though again the engaging merriment in his eyes betrayed him. “My cousin Brecon tells only the truth, especially about me.”
    “I am thankful for it, sir,” she said, finally remembering to pull her hand free of his. Heavens preserve her, one look from those gray eyes with their dark lashes was more seductive than an outright caress from any other man! “There can never be too much truth in this deceitful world of ours.”
    “Wisely spoken, my dear,” Brecon said, though he seemed to be concentrating more on Sheffield than her. “But for once Sheffield was also speaking in perfect honesty when he said he’d become tamed. He is to be married.”
    All around Diana the rest of her family was exclaiming with amazement and congratulation, but all she cared for was what Sheffield told her.
    “More truth, sir?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion that could be anger, indignation, or even simple misery. He loved someone else, and he loved that someone so deeply that he’d asked her to marry him. She felt double the fool now for having kissed him, a man promised to another lady. “This is no idle tale, and you are to wed?”
    “I am, Lady Diana,” he said evenly. “I have come to an understanding this very evening with Lady Enid Lattimore.”
    Did a cloud of regret flicker across his eyes and dim his smile, or was she only wishing it there? Worse yet, could he see the same disappointment mirrored in her own?
    “May I offer my congratulations to you, sir,” she said, somehow saying what was expected, “and my best wishes for your happiness with Lady Enid.”
    He began to bow in acknowledgment, but as he did, Lord Crump finally reappeared, showing a much better sense of timing than he’d displayed earlier while dancing. He seemed to be overly warm, likely from the crush of the crowded rooms and from looking from her, and beads of sweat glistened on his temples around the edge of his wig. Standing among the tall, handsome cousins in their silk coats, he looked even more like an ungainly crow.
    “Here you are, Lady Diana,” he said, managing to sound both solicitous yet faintly scolding. He blotted his forehead with his folded handkerchief. “I trust you are recovered?”
    “Thank you, Lord Crump, I am.” She smiled warmly and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, ignoring his obvious surprise. “You’ve joined us just in time.”
    “I have, Lady Diana?” He smiled uneasily in return.
    “Yes, indeed,” she said, raising her voice so that all around her would be sure to hear. For the second time this evening, she was acting impulsively and letting her emotions race