She pulled in a breath and saw something blue at his chest. It took her a moment to realize what they were, and once she did, she laughed.
Bluebells.
She held within her arms more roses than she could count, yet he’d brought her wildflowers, and somehow, they meant more to her than if he’d presented her with jewelry.
His grin widened, and immediately she thought his smile an even better gift than the bluebells. “You’re magnificent.”
She lowered her lashes as flames engulfed her cheeks. She’d heard compliments before, yet somehow his struck her as the most profound. She was magnificent. Her. Not her dancing. Not while she’d been on stage, but her. He thought her magnificent.
“Let me take those for you.” Calvin approached and gathered the red and white blooms from her arms. Then he turned and frowned at Frank. “I wondered why you brought those things.” He turned his golden gaze to Diana. “Do they mean something to you?”
“They’re my favorite flower,” she confessed. Though she’d not realized it, until Frank presented them.
Calvin seemed surprised, but then smiled. He looked like a roguish version of his brother. When Diana had first met him at Aaron’s house, she’d been unable to keep her eyes from him, and when his wife had noticed and made comment, she’d been forced to tell Mrs. Alice Lockwood just how much the brothers resembled one another.
Frank’s brother took the bluebells, and with a wink, moved farther into the room, likely toward the row of empty vases that Diana kept around for such gifts.
With her arms empty, she didn’t know what to do.
Frank placed his arms at his sides. “Did you receive my letter?”
“Yes.” Though she’d not replied, because he’d not written in a way that implied himself to be open to it. Had she thought he was, she’d have replied.
“Thank you for the ticket, though you didn’t have to gift one to me.” He straightened from the door. “I would have come, if not to see you, then for Lily.”
She smiled. “It was the least I could do.” And more importantly, she’d wanted him to be here. Needed him to be. “I hear you’ve been busy.”
“Very.”
She said the first thing that came to mind, wanting to keep his attention. “Is your patient another woman?” She didn’t know why she’d asked that question, though she didn’t take it back.
“Yes.”
Her back stiffened.
“A feisty old woman who claims everything plagues her.” Frank rolled his eyes.
Diana settled again.
His eyes trailed her and she held herself still, aware that her gown stated that she intended to go out that night. The ivory dress with its lace bodice and sleeves was close to the same fashion as the dress she’d worn for the ballet, created purposefully for tonight’s party. She would be meeting some very wealthy patrons of the theatre as a way to draw the crowd for the rest of the season’s performance.
When his eyes found hers again, they were darker and she noted his throat work as he swallowed. “You look well.” His voice rumbled low.
Less than an hour, and he’d already made her want him.
“Ice cream!” Lily shouted, as Aaron lifted her into his arms.
“Very well,” her uncle said. “Let’s get you home.”
“Just a little,” Diana warned. She knew the family would wish to celebrate, but Lily had three more months before the production closed and Diana didn’t want her to be ill in the morning. “We rehearse at dawn.”
“Dawn?” Aaron asked as he settled Lily against him. “Surely, it can wait until noon.” He started for the door.
“Actually—”
“See you at noon,” the earl stated before leading the rest of the family away. Again, she was given compliments and shown appreciation before the last one departed.
Frank stayed.
As did Calvin.
“Are you coming?” the younger brother asked them both.
“I’ve a party to attend,” Diana told him.
Frank turned to reply.
Diana cut in. “Come with me.”
Both Lockwoods turned to her with nearly identical looks of surprise. They were each quite handsome alone, but together…
Diana heard giggles from the other side of the door. Likely some of the dancers had seen the powerful men that had come in, and were appreciative of the sight.
“You’ll likely be busy,” Frank said. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt the flow of the evening.”
“I’m sure Miss Banns can make time for you.” Calvin patted him on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow.” Then Calvin left.
Frank kept his eyes on her as his brother departed. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. She wanted him with her, because she had a favor to ask. She felt poorly that this night would be more than just a rekindling of friendship. It was about so much more. “Will you come?”
He smiled and her heart heard the answer before her ears did.
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
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She was mesmerizing. As she moved around the room, it seemed that every eye followed her, clinging to her as if she were the only being in the room. Her body moved to the music, and he wondered if she were aware that her body was in tune with the orchestra. Her steps, bows, and gestures bewitched every man in the room, and for a long moment, Frank almost felt played. Her smile seemed genuine as she gave it her admirers, and Frank felt a driving need to prove himself special, where she was concerned.
He was jealous. Jealous of the people who pressed upon her, the men who took her across the ballroom, and the doddering idiots who kept her replenished with one glass of wine after another.
He’d been a fool to forget who she was. An entertainer. Performer. She’d brought him to the party, but they’d been together for all of two seconds before Monsieur Groux had pulled her away to charm some wealthy banker.
And charm she did. The ability to draw attraction, create lust, and steal hearts seemed to pour out of her with ease. Yet she didn’t seem to be aware of her powers, which was likely part of her game.
He’d thought her the goddess of war when he should have known she was Venus, a goddess of desire and beauty.
“You did this to her,” Bancroft said as he came to stand next to Frank. “I thank you.”
Frank wanted to scoff, but instead, he drank, as he’d been doing for the last hour. But he set his glass away when a servant passed by. “There’s no reason to thank me again. You already have.” Even as they spoke, two golden coins with the face of mighty griffons rested in his pockets.
He’d received the second, days after Diana had returned to London. Now Bancroft owed him two favors, something that should have calmed Frank, but instead bothered him. Bancroft was not a man he wished to have entangled with his life. He was wary of him, in fact.
And how had he not realized Diana’s brother was attending the party, much less witnessed the man’s approach? Frank thought himself lucid enough, yet as he examined his feelings— which was something he didn’t do often— he decided he’d had enough drink for the night.
“What are you doing here?” Frank asked. “You don’t mingle with society.” And as Frank stared at him, he wasn’t sure if ‘mingle’ was a thing Bancroft did at all. He seemed like a gargoyle, projecting from on high, taking post and glaring at anyone who thought to approach.
He was being stared at almost as much as Diana.
“I thought it time I make my presence known to the world,” Bancroft said. He owned London’s most famous garden, and yet, remained in the backdrop of it all. Yet as the man watched his sister, Frank didn’t have to wonder why he’d decided to venture from the shadows.
“Shall you make your connection to Diana known, or simply glare at any man who sta
res longingly at her?” Frank asked.
Bancroft shot a glare at a man who’d thought to approach Diana from behind. The man smartly retreated, and waited his turn amongst the crowd. “No one can ever know she is my sister, but I’ve spread the word that her guards come from me. People will think she’s employed my services. Nothing more.”
Frank wasn’t sure about that. It was likely people would think him her protector, if he continued to promise ungodly pain to anyone whose gaze dropped below Diana’s eyes. It was a wonder that Frank hadn’t received that particular look. But then, Bancroft likely thought Frank here for the same reason he was: out of concern for her welfare.
If only he knew.
At that moment, Diana approached, smiling that same smile she’d given everyone that night.
She was happy and that knowledge softened him. He wanted her happy. And she’d more than deserved the attention she’d gathered.
She looked younger. She had a slightly dewy look on her skin, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were brilliantly lit with merriment. He’d met this Diana once or twice during their time in the country and knew this to be the real her.
She grabbed his arm. “I’ve come over here to ask you to dance with me.”
He glanced at his hand on top of her gloved one. “A gentleman is to ask the woman. Not the other way around.”
She lifted a brow. “But you didn’t ask, Dr. Lockwood, and everyone knows that women hate to wait.” She smiled again, her eyes only on him. “But also, I came over to speak to my brother.” She kept her gaze on Frank as she spoke. “Monsieur Groux would gladly appreciate it, if you would stop promising murder with your eyes.”
“Is death all my eyes promise?” Her brother asked. “I was going for something far worse than that.” Then his black gaze flickered and he said, “Enjoy your dance,” before he started away.
Diana sighed, and pulled Frank away from the corner of the ballroom. “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
“I am a gentleman, though you’ll forgive me, if my movement is not as fluid as your own.” He was surprised when a waltz was struck, but moved where the notes insisted, and took Diana along with him.
After a few minutes, Diana’s face transformed with great humor, the smile taking on something she’d not given away to others, a secretive gleam rested in her eyes. “Frank, you are smooth as warm milk, though I should have known you would be. After all, I’ve seen you fight and thought you were splendid.”
He was surprised she thought so, sure she’d been overcome by the sight of blood. “You thought it splendid how I struck Hit in the nose?” Hit was presently in the ballroom as well. Frank had spotted him earlier, though now that he looked around the room, he didn’t see him at all. He turned back to his dance partner. “I don’t think Hit would agree.”
“Alas, he would not, but that doesn’t mean I will change my opinion. Who taught you to fight? Let me think? It was Lord Tift, was it not?”
He tightened his hold as he turned them. “William told you he trained me?”
She shook her head. “Not you exactly, though when the men were speaking at Lord Jeanshire’s home, fighting was brought up, and the general made it clear he was the best in the room. Though I suspect he’d have been impressed, had he seen you that day.”
William was likely the best fighter with hands and short blades. Rollo Kerry and Lord Darvess, two more of Frank’s friends, were very good with the long sword. The Duke of Cort had a seamless shot, which was now only matched by his wife, and Lord Jeanshire, himself, was more like Hit. Large enough to promise severe pain if one was caught in his grasp.
Diana thought him a fluid fighter, and Frank knew William would have been impressed, had he witnessed the fight.
“I was not myself that day,” he told her, needing her to know the man he was. “I only do it when necessary.”
“You were fighting for me,” she stated. A brunette curl brushed her cheek as he spun her again.
His grip on her hand tightened. “Yes.”
She blinked and confessed, “I called you Marble Man that night you rescued me from the basement. I was sure I’d never seen anyone so perfect, before. I still think of you that way.”
“Marble man?” he asked, baffled, and now fighting to concentrate on both her and the dance. He’d missed a step.
She leaned closer. “You were like my very own David come to life.” Then her voice lowered. “Though, I know personally, your virility to be of greater portions.”
He stopped moving and his stomach fell out. Was she speaking of his cock in the middle of the ballroom?
“You’re drawing attention.” She looked around and ducked her head. Color washed over her. She was embarrassed by stares, but not at the mention of his manhood!
At that moment, heat began to crawl through him and settled upon his… virility.
“Frank,” she whispered when her eyes were on him again. “You have to move.” Was she teasing him?
He started right before a couple could tread into them, but he was no longer fluid. He was struggling to think.
“Grayly is here.”
He stopped and looked around. Her kidnapper was in the room? Damn him and the wine he’d drank.
“Not Lord Charles. Not the earl. His brother, Mr. Stewart.”
He’d seen the man, and had wondered how she’d react to seeing him, as well. Mr. Grayly didn’t looked like his older brother, the Earl of Dahl. He was more self-possessed. This was clear in the way the man spoke and carried himself. He didn’t have his brother’s madness. He looked far too haughty to have ever thought to soil his hands by committing a crime as ugly as kidnapping, much less murder.
“The earl is still gone,” Diana went on as she glanced around the room. “I heard Mr. Grayly say himself, that Dahl would not return, though he keeps his brother’s property just as it was.” Then she looked at Frank again. “You stopped moving… Marble Man.” Again she teased.
Had he?
He started again.
She’d called him Marble Man. In a world where she was constantly surrounded by beautiful people, she thought him the most perfect? Frank didn’t think that right. He remembered being told by many that he was striking, with resilient features, but never perfect.
No man was perfect.
She was seeing him with grandness only because he’d saved her.
That knowledge hit with heavy sadness. He couldn’t have her. Not now, and likely, not ever. She still saw him as a knight, and not a man. He was the doctor who’d saved her sanity and that was the only reason she was drawn to him.
She proved it with her next words. “I want to go to the earl’s house, and I want you to go with me. Will you?”
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18
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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This time when Frank stopped dancing, he didn’t pretend to start up again. Instead, he instructed Diana to grab his arm and then escorted her from the ballroom and down the staircase. They both ignored Monsieur Groux’s shouts for her to return at once. She heard Lulu Lévêque cut him off, her need for attention obvious, and Diana was glad for it for once.
“Where are we going?” Diana asked, as she tried to keep up with his quick strides.
“With you being the center of attention, I can’t be alone with you. So, we’ll go for refreshments.”
They made it downstairs before he spoke again. “The answer is no.”
Her hopes were dashed at once. “Frank, please. I need to go there.”
He turned to her in the hall; but didn’t seem capable of keeping his eyes on her. A pained expression filled his face as he turned away. Had a reminder of the earl done something to set him off? Was he disgusted with her? “Did he take you there? Is that why you wish to go?”
“No. I’ve never been there before, but
I thought that if I went I could… understand why he did what he did.”
“There’s nothing to understand,” he growled, as he showed her into the dining room. “He was a madman. He did unspeakable things. His mind was ill.”
“Yes, I know this. I read the papers.” Instead of showing her to a seat at a table, he took her toward the buffet, which was a wise decision, for the moment Diana sat, she’d likely find herself surrounded by a dozen people at least. “But why did he choose me?”
Diana Sensational Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 11