If her parents got wind of a potential offer, they’d have her bundled off as soon as the banns were read. She would be well and truly stuck in every sense.
“Bloody hell!” Diana’s voice echoed back to her. It was a wicked thing to think, much less say—never mind yell—but she’d heard Piers and Liam spout enough curses to fill a tome.
“May I be of some assistance, my lady?” A cool, amused voice cut through the noise in her head like a scythe. “Or are you truly a heathen?”
The Earl of Linley. Of course it would be him. Handsome and intelligent and in possession of a Corinthian’s frame, the new earl made his current attire of buckskin breeches, loose shirt, and worn riding coat look as magnificent as his formal evening wear.
Diana propped her hands on her waist and popped her hip. “I may be a heathen, but you are truly a rascal, Cole. Get over here and help free me before I inform my parents you were attempting to seduce me.”
Cole, short for his surname Colewright, raised one eyebrow in a supercilious manner he had been birthed with and moved in her direction. “What have you done to yourself, my girl?”
“Found myself snagged by the brambles in a knotted cloak.” She didn’t need a looking glass to tell her that her cheeks were ablaze. In fact, she could imagine a spark igniting the forest floor in a ring of fire around them. It wasn’t from embarrassment though. Or at least not entirely.
He stopped so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his dark gray eyes. It was his eyes that set him apart from any other man she’d ever met. They danced with emotion, whether it was anger or merriment. Lately they’d been darkened with a grief she could do nothing to ease even as she itched to give him a most inappropriate hug.
Cole had grown up in a veritable castle on the Devon coast less than a mile from the Gramblings’ cramped manor house. The same age as Liam, he’d been a fixture at their house for as long as Diana could remember.
He was the youngest of three brothers and the only one still living. His eldest brother had died of fever two years earlier, along with Cole’s sister-in-law and nephew. The middle Colewright brother had met his end in a riding accident six months earlier, and their father had followed mere weeks after. Diana supposed the cause of the old earl’s death was a broken heart. That left Cole to assume the mantle of Earl of Linley. A title and responsibility he’d never expected.
He tutted and brushed her hands aside. “For the record, there would be no attempt at seduction, Diana. If I were of a mind to seduce you, I would succeed.”
“Are you an experienced seducer then? How many innocents have you lured behind potted plants at balls in order to have your wicked way with them?”
He rumbled a laugh. It was good to hear he remembered how. Piers had mentioned how serious and distracted Cole had been since the tragedies had befallen his family.
“I make it a general rule to avoid innocents altogether. And if you must know, exercising my wicked ways requires more privacy and leverage than a potted plant.”
As he worked at the knot, she blinked up at him, her mind racing through a maze of possibilities. “Leverage? Like a stick or a wall? Why would you need a wall? Or a stick for that matter?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I forgot how rampant your imagination is.”
“My imagination wouldn’t have to rampage if I were given more information. Girls aren’t told anything interesting.”
“What do you want to know?” His hands stilled on her ties, shifting to lie on her shoulders, his thumbs on her collarbones.
“What does a seduction consist of?” When Cole’s mouth opened to dissuade her question, she put her finger against his lips and continued. “I’m supposed to be protecting Rose against cads and ne’er-do-wells. How am I to identify one in its natural habitat?”
Cole’s lips spread into a smile under her finger. They were softer than she’d supposed, and it was a shock to note that despite their years growing up together, she’d never touched him so intimately. Instead of snatching her hand away like she ought to, she let her finger slide lower until it plucked his bottom lip and dipped along his chin. His slight whiskers tickled. While he still wore a smile, the laughter was gone from his eyes.
“Seducers reside in darkened gardens and deserted rooms and—” Cole shifted his gaze left and right and the tenor of his voice changed to a husky whisper, “—secluded woods. Gentle, innocent maidens must beware.”
Her breathing hitched. His thumb pressed into the base of her throat where her pulse jumped like a skipping stone across water. Her lips parted, and she wrapped a hand around his wrist. The moment felt charged, like the air after a lightning strike on the moor.
She wanted to ask him for a demonstration of his wicked ways. Beg him if need be.
But sanity prevailed, and she dropped her hand and her gaze. “Can you cut me out of the blasted cloak?”
“No need. I’ve got it.”
Even as the ties loosened, her throat remained tight. Cole was a handful of years older than her nineteen and had spent their formative years teasing her much like her two older brothers, Piers and Liam. She had seen less of him when he left Devon for Cambridge. As a third son, he should have read divinity, but his interest was in the natural world, not the divine, and he’d studied mathematics and science before war had prompted him to buy a commission and do his duty.
He’d maintained his comradery with her brothers in London, but he hadn’t spent much time at his family home in recent years. That didn’t stop their mother from entertaining visions of a match between Cole and Rose, but since his ascension to the earldom, he was out of reach for a respectable but not well-connected family like theirs. Diana could never determine how Rose felt about Cole or vice versa. Not that it seemed to matter how women felt about their potential mates.
Diana shrugged out of her cloak and squatted to work it free of the brambles. “Are you coming to dinner?”
“I came to pay my respects. I’d never presume I was invited for dinner.”
She cast a look at him under her lashes with a wry smile. “Since when have you required an invitation?”
“Yes. Well. Things are different now.”
“Not with us.” Even as she said it, she wondered if it were true. Freeing her cloak, she shook it out and examined the rents and picked fabric with a groan. “You must at least stay to watch Mother sacrifice me to the sea gorgon. That’s entertainment you won’t get in a London ballroom.”
His laugh was again rusty but welcome. “I don’t know. I’ve run across some matrons who might qualify. Speaking of, how did you enjoy your taste of London?”
Diana draped her cloak over her arm while Cole retrieved her basket, gloves, and hat. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, trailing pins, but it didn’t matter. Cole had seen her in worse straits.
“I loved the Royal Academies. Oh, and the parks. I didn’t expect to find such wild places in the middle of London.”
“What about the balls and the dancing and the young men?” His teasing prodded a sore point.
“I was only asked to dance one time. And that was by you,” she said dryly.
Piers had escorted Diana and Rose to the Linleys’ London house. The old earl had hosted a ball to introduce Cole’s older brother as the new earl. No one could have foreseen that in a few short weeks, he too would be dead.
It had been a magical night. The hundreds of candles, the orchestra, the beautiful people of the ton. Her dance with Cole had been the highlight. While their banter had been reminiscent of their youth, a new quality had sparked between them. She thought it might have qualified as flirting, although later she acknowledged the possibility her imagination had embellished their interaction.
His smile disappeared. “That’s impossible.”
“I assure you, it’s very possible.” The number of functions she’d attended and sat against the wall numbered in the dozens. Diana waved her hand dismissively and forced an evenness she didn’t feel into her voi
ce. “Playing second fiddle to Rose is hardly new to me. Not surprisingly, she was quite popular. Although no offers were forthcoming.”
His expression remained pensive, and Diana couldn’t tell if the news relieved him or tormented him. Did he pine for Rose?
“Did Piers take you riding?” he asked.
She smiled. “We went several times in Hyde Park before he left for the office. The morning mists were dewy and magical. Not like the ones here along the cliff’s edge.”
“I wish I’d been able to ride with you.” He cleared his throat. “Piers too, of course.”
“Of course.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye as they strolled toward Grambling Manor. “I suppose you sold your commission?”
“I had no choice after John died. My duty lies with the estate now.”
The family had attended the internment services at the Linleys’ chapel, but Diana had only been able to offer him the most formal and proper of sympathies. She slipped her hand through his arm and gave it a squeeze. His muscles were taut with a static energy. “I’m so sorry about John. And your father too.”
“Thank you, Diana.”
Her words felt inadequate, yet she had nothing else to offer.
After a spate of silence, he said, “You’ll accompany Rose when she returns to London for the spring season, I assume? Perhaps we can share another dance or even a ride?”
Her stomach crimped with something resembling fear or worry. The visit with Mrs. Hambridge had unsettled her. “Yes. Perhaps. I hope so.”
He stopped and took her arm. They were standing at the edge of the copse. Grambling Manor was visible across the field, its solid stone front and the smoke wafting into the damp winter air inviting.
“Surely you don’t mean to cloister yourself here as a nursemaid to your siblings. You deserve more.” His vehemence surprised her.
“Do I?” She let out a long sigh and let her gaze drift to the treetops. “I took tea with Mrs. Hambridge today.”
“And?”
“And she strongly hinted Hamish and I might suit.”
“Your parents would never agree.”
“Not agree? They’d post the banns next Sunday, thrilled to see me settled.”
“With Hamish Hambridge? Are they daft? He’s… He’s…” He released her arm to take off his hat and slap it against his leg before jamming it home. “He’s not your equal in any way.”
“Granted, he’s not every girl’s dream, but he is the Linley vicar. It’s a good living, as well you know. I might even see you every Sunday service.” She pasted on a smile. Putting her looming future into words was only making her sicker to her stomach.
“Hambridge will make you happy?”
Her smile turned brittle before crumbling. “No. I don’t know. I suppose he’s a decent enough fellow who won’t beat me.”
“Won’t beat you?” Cole stalked three paces away and spun around. “That’s all you expect from a husband?”
“Of course not, but I don’t possess a singular beauty, and Father can’t provide a dowry ample enough to attract a man like you.” Why had she said that? “Not that I’m trying to attract a man like you. Far from it.”
Cole dropped her basket and closed the distance between them. She shuffled backward until a tree halted her retreat, the rough bark biting through her dress. Suddenly he wasn’t Cole, but Lord Linley, and Diana barely stopped an apology for speaking so familiarly to him.
“Have you kissed him? Have you kissed anyone?”
“No. Of course not. When would I have the chance? Now you’re being the daft one.” She fisted her cloak and drew it between them, unsure what protection the wool would offer.
“No gentleman lured you onto a terrace and stole a kiss all season?”
“I just informed you, no other gentleman claimed my hand in a dance, much less for a rendezvous behind a potted plant. Anyway, a real gentleman would never steal a kiss.”
“Oh really?” His tone was half amused and half taunting. He propped a hand above her head on the trunk of the tree and leaned even closer.
Was Cole, Lord Linley, going to kiss her?
She could easily duck under his arm and make a run for Grambling Manor, yet she merely tilted her head back to hold his gaze. Gray clouds scooted across the sky, portending the coming dusk and casting a shadow across his face. Was Cole playing a jest? Would he laugh about how simple and gullible she was to Piers and Liam later?
The moment stretched into minutes, hours, days. His mouth inched toward hers with the inexorableness of the tide sweeping along the shore. At some point, she let go of the cloak and grasped the soft lawn fabric where his shirt parted, revealing his collarbones and a sprinkling of dark hair. He was wearing a hardy green waistcoat but no collar or neckcloth.
“This is terribly ill-advised, Cole.” While the words stuttered out of her, her hand remained firmly entangled in his shirt.
“Terribly.” His mouth moved within the flutter of a butterfly’s wings from hers.
“I don’t require a pity kiss from you.”
He retreated slightly, and she found herself following. “Pity is not the emotion I’m battling at the moment.”
Before she could question him further or ask him why her and not beautiful, ladylike Rose, their lips crashed together. In all her imaginings—and there had been an embarrassing number of hours spent on this very subject—Diana had pictured her first kiss as being chaste. The soft, simple press of lips to lips.
How wrong she was. There was nothing simple nor chaste about Cole’s kiss.
Her mama had been useless with regard to passing on information of the physical manifestation of love, despite having birthed so many children. Her brothers had certainly never broached such an indelicate subject with her. And now it was clear her novels had left her woefully uneducated as well.
Diana skimmed one hand up his shirt to clasp the warm skin of his nape and grabbed the lapel of his jacket with her other. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her from the tree to his body. She clung to the only stable force in her world.
His tongue darted out to touch her bottom lip, and she gasped. He didn’t allow her shock to take root, pressing inside her mouth and coaxing her to play with him. Diana had never considered the risks before leaping headlong into adventure when they were children. Nothing had changed even though an alarm clanged distantly. This was more dangerous than following her brothers across the river on a fallen tree.
Cole toyed with her lips and tongue in the way of a cat and mouse. While she wasn’t confused about who the mouse was in their dynamic, she became aware of his labored breathing and the way his hand ran into her hair with a desperation she understood deep in her soul. Perhaps this kiss wasn’t a lark to him.
Her entire body tingled with awareness, and she squirmed closer to him. He tightened his hold and lifted her to her toes, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces. Her breasts pressed into his taut chest, and a peculiar hardness nestled against her belly. A feeling of satisfaction and impatience took hold as an insistent ache throbbed between her legs. Her hips moved against him, seeking relief but finding none.
A small cry of frustration escaped, and she nipped his bottom lip in an unspoken plea to help her.
Chapter 2
The tang of pine needles underfoot and the loamy scent of fallen leaves colored the air. Would Cole ever be able to walk the woods again without thinking of Diana with her soft lips and needy hands? Never.
It had been wrong of him to start kissing her. He acknowledged it even as he couldn’t stop himself from tasting her. The first man to do so. The roar of satisfaction was primal and like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Diana was sister to his best friends—practically a sister to him. The truth was murkier. Cole had been painfully aware she was not his sister since the summer she’d turned seventeen. He’d happened across her wading in the brook, her skirts pulled to her thighs, her bodice wet and clinging to curves he’d never n
oticed before but had been etched into his dreams that night.
Her dark red hair had been loose around her shoulders like tendrils of flame. And her smile had been brighter than the sun. While she was as beautiful and wild as the cliffs, it had been her laughter and life that had held him in thrall.
As a third son, he’d been allowed more freedom than his brothers, unburdened by the stifling expectations that fell on an heir’s or a spare’s shoulders. He’d even entertained thoughts of offering for Diana when she reached age, battling doubts she’d ever see him as anything except a boy who’d dunked her under water or tickled her more than once as a child.
Knowing taking the cloth was not his calling, he’d studied at Cambridge, then bought a commission and joined the fight, serving under Wellington. He’d planned to prove himself before coming home to woo her. Fate had intervened.
First his eldest brother, sister-in-law, and nephew had died over the course of one horrific week. Then, just when their family had started to come out of the dark pit of their grief, John had died, followed by their father.
Except for his uncle and a handful of servants, Cole was alone in the world. Lonely. And expectations had changed. His uncle had been pestering him since his father’s funeral to choose a suitable lady. Even Rose, as beautiful as she was, wouldn’t pass muster with most of the ton.
With wild, reckless Diana in his arms, he wasn’t sure he cared what anyone else thought. He fisted a hand in the fabric of her skirts, wanting to lift them and smooth a hand over her buttocks and thighs and the soft, sweet places in between.
Her hips moved restlessly against him, and a mewl of need rose from her throat. He canted away from her slightly so his hardening cock wouldn’t frighten her. His lips curled into a smile even as their tongues sparred. He suspected curiosity would trump whatever fear she harbored over the intimacy between man and woman. What did she know? What could he teach her?
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