Mary Jo Putney (10 page)

"I am Mrs. Diana Lindsay."

Her voice was as lovely as her face, sweet and musical, unmarred by a provincial accent. She could have been a duchess, except that no duchess had ever been so beautiful. An elusive fragrance of lilac surrounded her, and it reinforced the illusion of innocence that she simulated so well. The part of him that was not quite overpowered by her presence noted cynically that she was going to be very, very expensive, but Gervase didn't care. Instead he asked a more polite version of what he had thought earlier. "What does it take to win you?"

His voice was deep and resonant, equally suited to caress or command. Diana's heart beat with unnatural speed and she inhaled deeply, struggling for the composure that she desperately needed. What had she expected him to do, ravish her? Accuse her of harlotry? Declare love undying? While she had instantly known this man was her fate, clearly the recognition wasn't mutual.

It was better this way. She disengaged her hand without haste. "You may court me and find out."

The strong dark brows arched up. "Court you? I have not come here for a wife."

"Nor did I come for a husband," Diana said blandly. "You and I have simpler aims. If you don't like the word 'court,' choose another. Phrases are unimportant. What matters is that if you want me, you must please me."

Lord St. Aubyn's gray eyes narrowed, the skin tightening over the high, wide cheekbones, and she felt his withdrawal. "So you can amuse yourself watching suitors scramble for your pleasure while you set one against another, like cocks at a fight? No, thank you, madam, I will not play that game."

So he had pride, more than was good for him. That was no surprise; pride was written in every line of the lean body that moved with the deadly smoothness of a hunting cat. There was not an ounce of spare flesh anywhere on him, from broad shoulders to flat waist to muscular legs. Everything soft and unessential had been burned away, leaving only unyielding masculine strength.

Diana wondered if his lordship knew how to smile, and if he did, whether amusement would provide the life that could make those cool, regular features handsome. Commanding herself not to be intimidated by his overpowering closeness, she said calmly, "I have met many men tonight, and you are the only one whom I have invited to come closer."

As he relaxed fractionally, she added, "I will make you a promise, my lord. On further acquaintance I may decide that you will not suit me, but I will never make sport of you."

He smiled faintly and the lightening of his dark features did make him austerely handsome. "I hope that is true. There is a great deal that I will not tolerate, even from a woman of your quite remarkable beauty."

"And there is a great deal I will not accept, even from a man of your no-doubt-remarkable wealth," Diana answered with an edge of irritation in her voice.

Surprise touched his dark face for a moment. Then his smile widened. "You have a high-handed way with you, Mrs. Lindsay."

"It is merely wise commerce, my lord," she said, shifting her weight gracefully from one foot to the other. Motion rippled the silk dress across her body and she could see by his tension that he noticed, and was affected by, that subtle display.

With a mischievous desire to discomfit him further, Diana shifted the conversation to a more intellectual plane. "Like any merchant, I seek to sell what customers demand. Since the market can be a profitable one, I would be foolish not to negotiate the best possible terms for what I sell."

His lordship's mouth quirked with amusement. "But surely your price is threatened by too large a supply of cut-rate goods? They say that in London, one woman in ten is selling the same product that you are, and that doesn't count women who supply the same service for free, or under lifetime contract."

Diana laughed. "You are confusing two different commodities. Many women sell their femaleness, but women of unusual beauty sell dreams."

There was an odd, disconcerted look in his eye as he murmured, "Not only bold but vain."

Diana raised her brows. "Is it vanity to know one's worth? I am a merchant, with only a few short years to sell my wares before time diminishes the value. Why should I not seek the best price?" St. Aubyn had alarmed her at first, but she was beginning to enjoy the discussion. She had never talked to a man this way, and the combination of intellectual banter and erotic undercurrents was powerfully stimulating. "Money is important, but most of the men here will pay well, so why should I not choose to please myself in other ways?"

"It's a compelling argument," Lord St. Aubyn said dryly, "but if your standards are too high, perhaps I will be unable to meet them. I should regret that very much."

In spite of the lightness of his words, there was an intensity about him that Diana found threatening. It was only the primitive part of her that believed in fate. On the surface, this was a business transaction, and the choice to proceed was hers.

With a coolness to match his, she said, "Then try to meet my standards, Lord St. Aubyn. Charm me, make me feel beautiful and desirable. Or is charm not an attribute that you have cultivated?"

He reached out one hand and touched her cheek. His fingers were warm and strong, and Diana was acutely aware of his powerful masculinity. Her body responded with a melting warmth that spread and weakened her, that made her wish to open her arms and yield to his wishes. It was utterly different from anything she had ever experienced before, and she was suddenly frightened, not of this dark man with cool eyes and warm hands, but of herself.

St. Aubyn said softly, "No one has ever accused me of charm, but I do have other attributes." Then he lifted her chin with one finger and bent his head to kiss her, his mouth warm on hers, undemanding but infinitely promising. Their bodies did not touch, and the fierce current of mutual attraction was concentrated between their lips with a force like wildfire.

Diana had feared her first kiss, both the intimacy itself and the risk that she would betray her inexperience. Now her heart began pounding. She had not known a kiss could be like this.

Oh, no, most certainly she had not expected this. His clear gray eyes were so close and intent that surely he must see her dizziness, must know that she desired to press against him, to discover if that hard body was as warm and welcoming as his lips.

There was no room in her for fear, and Diana was both relieved and bereft when he lifted his head and dropped his hand. She stepped back, wanting to put more distance between them. Grateful that her voice was steady, she smiled faintly, as if such kisses were as common as breathing. "I will set that to your account. It goes some way toward compensating for other lacks."

There was a flash in his eyes and she wondered if she had angered him, but then he chuckled. "When you retire from your present trade, you can become a clerk in the city, keeping accounts and totaling figures."

Amusement still in his voice, he surveyed her lazily. "You are clearly something of an expert when it comes to figures." Before she could respond to the double entendre, he asked, "Do you ride?"

Diana hesitated. "I have, but it was some years ago and I do not keep a hack in London."

"That is easily remedied. I can mount you if you consent to go riding with me."

More double meanings. Diana colored faintly, but she was determined to be his equal in aplomb. "In that case, I should be delighted to join you."

"Tomorrow morning then, at seven o'clock?"

Usually Diana breakfasted with Geoffrey before he went to school, but she had known that her new enterprise would cause changes in her domestic schedule. She would compensate by spending more time with him later. "Very well, my lord, seven o'clock tomorrow, number seventeen Charles Street."

He gave a nod of satisfaction. "I shall bring a horse suitable for a lady who has not ridden in some time."

"Thank you, my lord." With a slow, teasing smile, she added, "It is not necessary that the beast be a complete slug."

"I shall bear that in mind: one horse, gentle but not sluggish. Now, let me return you to your admirers."

St. Aubyn offered his arm and Diana tucked her hand into the elbow of his dark blue coat. Even through the layers of heavy fabric she felt the taut power of that arm and she shivered.

Madeline had told her that the drug of sexual desire could bring a strong man to his knees, but surely that was not true of a man such as this. His strength was not merely physical; there was determination and quiet control behind those clear, icy eyes. He might desire her, but it was impossible to imagine that he would let any woman hold power over him.

Uneasily she remembered that Madeline had also said that desire might equally bind a woman to a man. Diana had not believed that could happen to her, who had lived so well without physical passion, but now she was not so sure. Glancing up at St. Aubyn's stern profile, she thought of Lord Ridgley, with his kind eyes and obvious desire to please.

Diana shrugged fatalistically as St. Aubyn returned her to her chair, then bowed and took his leave. On one level, she had the freedom to choose whomever she wished as a lover, but on another level, she had no choice at all. There was no wisdom or calculation in her response to the dark lord.

She knew only that fate had bound them together.

Chapter 4

Some of Diana's admirers looked reproachfully at her for having permitted another man a kiss; more attempted to lure her into a quiet corner where they could take similar liberties. Resisting their blandishments, she quickly teased them into good humor again. Getting Madeline into a good mood later in the evening was another matter. The older woman had seen the byplay with St. Aubyn, and as soon as they left in their carriage she gave vent to her feelings. "For heaven's sake, Diana, why did you let him single you out in such a public manner?"

"I'm not a seventeen-year-old with a spotless reputation to protect. Quite the contrary," Diana said mildly. "Besides, I was in full view the whole time."

"Yes, and in full view of everyone, you let him kiss you."

"I didn't precisely
let
him."

A torch outside the carriage briefly illuminated Madeline's exasperated countenance. "That makes it worse. If you wish to succeed as a courtesan, you must be in control of what is happening, not succumb to every passing advance."

"I succumbed to only one."

"But with St. Aubyn, of all people!"

"Is there something wrong with him?" Diana asked curiously. "Did you know him when you lived in London before?"

"No." The shake of Madeline's head was felt rather than seen in the dark. "I made inquiries this evening after he left. He was in India for some years in the army, returning home a couple of years ago when he inherited the title."

"Well?" Diana prompted. "What did you learn? Is he a gambler who has lost the family fortune, or a scoundrel despised by honorable men?"

"Nooo," Madeline said slowly, "nothing quite so obvious."

"I am going riding with the man tomorrow morning, so if you wish to persuade me to avoid him, you had better speak more clearly." Diana spoke with a trace of unaccustomed sarcasm.

Madeline sighed. "People react oddly when he is mentioned. He seems to be a cold man, respected, but perhaps not much liked." After a long silence she added, "They say he is the principal spymaster of the government, and that he drove his wife mad and keeps her locked in a castle in Scotland."

"Heavens," Diana said with a lift of her brows. "How gothic! Is there any evidence for such charges?"

"Not really," Madeline admitted. "I questioned as many people as I could, and no one is even sure that he is married, but since the rumor is persistent it must mean something. St. Aubyn seldom goes out in society, and there was considerable comment when he appeared at Harriette's tonight." As an afterthought she added, "He's very rich."

"Of the things you have just told me, what makes him an unsuitable choice as a protector? Certainly not his wealth."

The carriage pulled up in front of the house and Madeline didn't answer as they entered and climbed up to the older woman's rooms. The floor contained two suites, each with bedchamber, sitting room, built-in closets, and bath chambers with the incredible luxury of fitted tubs. In the past the front suite had been Maddy's, but now she preferred the back because it was quieter. Geoffrey and Edith had the floor above, and the female servants lived in the attics.