Marquess of Diamonds: Lords of Scandal Read online

“I see.” Hart looked down at her. She’d managed to sidestep nearly every question he’d asked. He didn’t blame her. They weren’t acquainted. And he only needed to attend a few balls to make amends with his sister. Beyond that, he needn’t concern himself but somehow, he was interested.

  One did occasionally find oneself staring at a painting, searching for hidden meaning. But those questions rarely went answered and most oft, left the gazer feeling a bit hollow inside.

  Best to leave it be.

  “Well, that returns me to my original question. What ball do you next attend?”

  She startled a bit. “My apologies, my lord, for not answering. Lady Holmberry’s soiree, tomorrow evening.”

  “Tomorrow?” he said with a nod. “And just to establish the rules, I will arrive, ask you to dance, look longingly into your eyes, and then leave once again.”

  “Longingly?” she repeated her voice going high. “What does that even look like?”

  “What?”

  “What does a longing glance look like?” she asked again, her voice dropping in a way that made him tingle with a bit of awareness. She’d shifted closer and he caught a whiff of her scent. He’d expected her to smell good. Fruity perhaps, or sweet.

  But her scent was actually an intoxicating mix of vanilla mixed with citrus and just a hint of a deeper spice that he couldn’t name. It was rich, complex, and entirely at odds with her personality.

  She licked her lips again. “I don’t want to mistake your gaze, my lord,” she said as her chin notched up so that she could meet his.

  Her blue eyes were hypnotic as they stared up at him. He had the most ridiculous urge to run his fingers over her cheek. Would she slap him on the face or lean into his touch? “It would look like this,” he said and then he let his eyes wander down the contours of her face, taking in every perfect detail.

  Despite his best intentions, he found himself drawing closer still.

  “Oh. I see. Let me try,” she replied and then she did the same. Slowly, she looked into his eyes, hers crinkling softly at the corners with some unnamed intimacy, and then her gaze slid down as she studied his nose, his cheeks, her eyes darkening, narrowing, as they slid down to his lips.

  She trembled, a sensation that pulsed through his arm where her hand rested against him. He felt it, his own body responding.

  Then her gaze snapped back up to his. “How was that?”

  All at once, Hart became aware of several points. One, he’d been played. While Daisy had been explicit about the fact that this woman needed to learn to flirt, she’d also assured Hart that he was not giving lessons, just paying her a bit of attention.

  And two, there was far more to Abigail Williams than first met the eye.

  He gritted his teeth as he looked down at her upturned face. “Fine.”

  Was Daisy trying to trick him? Did she have matchmaking schemes in mind after all? Because Abigail was a practiced temptress who lured him in with a false façade and then quickly ensnared him with hidden passion.

  She blushed, her chin dropping but a smile played at her lips. “Oh good.”

  Taking her hand in his, Hart dropped his arm, and then let go of her, stepping away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then he spun about and stalked away.

  He and Daisy needed to have a word.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Abigail watched Hartwell walk away, her heart hammering against her ribs. Had she really been so bold?

  Meeting him had been…wonderful. Her breath caught in her throat as she lifted her hand to touch her warm cheek. She’d felt his muscles tense under her hand.

  The air had changed about them.

  The experience had been enlightening and there would be another tomorrow. She could hardly wait.

  Mildred and Daisy rushed over to her, Daisy taking her hand. “What happened?”

  Abigail looked at her friend, her brow crinkling in confusion as she attempted to answer. “With all due respect, I’m the person least likely to explain. I’ve no idea.”

  Daisy flashed her a kind smile. “From where I stood, it looked as though Hart was taken with you.”

  Her heart began racing again, and she lifted her hand to her chest. He’d stopped next to Chance, his brows drawn together as the two men talked quietly.

  “You don’t think he might be interested in more than just helping Lady Abigail, do you?” Aunt Mildred asked, her voice full of breathy excitement as her hands fluttered about.

  Daisy shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  But it was Abigail who shook her head. “I doubt it. He mostly seemed…grumpy.”

  Both women laughed at that. “That’s Hart,” Daisy said as she shook her head. “Believe it or not, he’s got a good heart under that rough exterior.”

  Abigail couldn’t say much about what she’d find underneath the man’s muscular frame. Not without exposing her attraction to him. “What did you tell him I needed help with?”

  Daisy gave her a conspiratorial smile, the sort that made her eyes sparkle with interest. “Just stirring up interest from other lords.”

  Abigail’s brows lifted. “Oh, but I was hoping…” her words drifted off. Did she even say that she’d wanted experience with a lord known for having a questionable reputation?

  Daisy winked at her, stepping closer as she whispered. “You’ll learn what you need to do. If I know Hart, he won’t be resistant for long. He has a penchant for tall blondes. Always has.”

  Abigail didn’t answer as she considered Hart’s preference. He clearly did find her attractive. At least a little, though he still didn’t seem to like her much. She watched him across the room, her pulse drumming in her ears. He seemed so far away. Not physically but…Abigail knew she’d never hold his attention for long.

  Still, straightening her shoulders, she decided she’d make the most of their time together. “How many dances did he agree to attend?”

  “Two,” Daisy replied. “And that should be enough to stir up attention from other lords at the very least.”

  Was that enough for her real goal? To be a more practiced flirt? To spend time with a man she could normally never touch.

  She gave a preoccupied nod. There was so much she wished to know. And to experience before their relationship came to an end. The thought of kissing him rose up into the forefront of her thoughts.

  The very idea of touching her lips to his made her breath catch. She pressed her palms to her now-fluttering stomach. She’d have to find her most enticing ball gown. Not that her mother allowed her much choice and most of her gowns bordered on prim.

  But still.

  Surely something in her wardrobe would help her capture the marquess’s attention, however momentarily. And now she’d learned how to give a longing look…

  “Will you be in attendance at tomorrow’s ball?” she asked, looking at Lady Mildred.

  Aunt Mildred shook her head. “I have a prior engagement, but inform me of the second ball that Hart plans to attend with you, and I will make certain to be at that one.”

  Abigail smiled as she reached for Mildred’s hand. Whatever she decided to do, she was going to need help distracting her mother.

  “I could come tomorrow, if you needed me to,” Daisy said.

  Abigail shook her head. It was so generous of Daisy to offer but she should be focused on her new husband. “You just enjoy your first days of marriage. I’ll take it from here.”

  Daisy looked over at Chance, pink creeping into her cheeks. “Are you certain? I’m happy to help you get ready.”

  How could her mother have ever thought to remove Daisy from Abigail’s life? Couldn’t her mother see what a wonderful person Daisy was? “I’m certain but thank you so much for everything.” She reached out and squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Now tell me all about your plans after the breakfast. Are you headed out to the country? Taking a tour of His Grace’s properties?”

  Daisy shook her head. “No. At least for a little bit, Chance will stay to help Hart with th
e club I told you about.”

  Mildred tsked. “That place. It brings out the worst in them.”

  “The worst?” she asked. “What sort of place?”

  Daisy shook her head. “A gaming hell,” she whispered.

  A gasp escaped Abigail’s lips as she looked at them again. But it wasn’t fear that fluttered in her stomach but excitement. “How indecent.”

  Mildred nodded. “That’s Hart.”

  Abigail had known that already. And one of the reasons she’d chosen him. Her lips pressed together as he raked his hair back, his large hand sliding easily through the strands.

  Swallowing a lump, she straightened her spine. She’d have to do her very best to convince him she was worth a bit of his time.

  Hart was aware of the women talking, their eyes upon him.

  But it was Daisy’s blue-eyed gaze that had him shifting in discomfort. Which woman was she? The one-dimensional debutante or the temptress he’d just glimpsed?

  He had seen that, hadn’t he? He hadn’t just imagined her heated gaze.

  What did it matter? He’d meant what he’d said to Daisy yesterday. He wasn’t interested in marrying anytime soon, therefore he needed to stay far away from Abigail Williams. He’d give her the two dances and then he was done.

  He’d not give her a thought after that.

  Chance was talking, though Hart barely listened. “Hart,” Chance said, snapping his fingers. “Did you hear me?”

  “Hear what?”

  Chance gave him a fierce grimace. “I’m here, on my wedding day, attempting to help you with your problems. You could at least give me your attention.”

  Hart scowled. “Two weeks ago, they were your problems too.”

  Chance’s brows shot up. “And two weeks from now, you could be dealing with my problems. Or lack thereof.” And he gave a pointed look back at Abigail.

  Hart snorted. “Not likely.”

  Chance had to grin at that. “I thought that too when I was where you are.”

  “I’ll admit that she’s charming.”

  Chance nodded. “Quite.”

  “Picturesque even.”

  “Indeed.”

  “But do you think there is anything under that beautiful façade?” Hart asked, his gaze skimming over Abigail again.

  “What do you mean?” Chance asked.

  “Well. With Daisy, you know she has a penchant for solving problems at illegal clubs and a certain taste for trouble. She is my sister, after all. But with Lady Abigail, I get the impression she’s never done an ill deed in her life.”

  Chance shrugged at that. “The question you should be asking yourself is not if she’s ever done an ill deed but if she’s willing to do one in the future. With you.” Then Chance wagged his brows with barely disguised ill intent.

  Hart rolled his eyes. “That’s not my question. I don’t care. Dallying with misses like that leads to one place: marriage.”

  “Then why did you ask to begin with?”

  Hart opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut again. That was an intriguing question, and he took several seconds to consider his answer. “I’m to pretend to lay favor on her, don’t you think it should be believable? That I’d be interested.”

  Chance laughed. “You overestimate society. She’s a beautiful, well-connected lady and you are a lord with a rakish reputation. No one will question your interest whatsoever.”

  Hart frowned. He supposed that was true. “They’d actually believe that she would be enough to tame the likes of me?”

  “Think that highly of yourself, do you?” Chance asked with a chuckle. “I’d say they were more likely to question her mother allowing her to socialize with a lord as questionable as you.”

  “I’m a marquess,” Hart growled back.

  “You’re a scoundrel,” Chance replied, leaning back on the table behind him. “Everyone knows it.”

  Did they? How should he know? It had been so long since he’d rubbed elbows with anyone outside his circle. “Why did I agree to this?”

  “Because.” Chance pointed at Daisy as she crossed the room. “Your sister is very important to you, and you are attempting to make amends.”

  “Right,” Hart said as Daisy came toward them, her gaze not on her husband but on Hart. She clearly wished to talk with him too.

  He straightened as she slipped her hand into Chance’s arm. “How did you like Lady Abigail?”

  “That is irrelevant,” he said, knowing in that moment that his sister was, in fact, attempting to play matchmaker.

  Which was just wonderful. He had a debutante attempting to be a temptress, a sister trying to trick him, a friend who’d all but abandoned him, and a thief trying to take all his money.

  Hart ran a hand through his hair. Perhaps he needed an extended holiday. Some lords went to France, drank wine.

  He let out a long breath.

  “It is not,” Daisy said giving his arm a light tap. “If you don’t like her, how will you pretend you’re attracted to her in front of society?”

  His jaw clenched. He wouldn’t tell his sister that he’d done far more with women he’d liked far less. “I’ll manage.”

  From across the room, Abigail met his gaze again, her eyes dropping once again. Even from across the room, he watched as her cheeks turned pink.

  His body clenched in awareness.

  “You ought to give her a chance. She’s truly lovely.”

  His gaze swung back to his sister. “A chance at what?”

  Daisy’s lips pressed together. Part of him wanted to question his sister further. Get the entire truth out. But he’d leave it. He already knew, and whatever her intentions were, Daisy wouldn’t see them realized. He’d do what he needed to do to make up with Daisy and then he’d wash his hands of the whole thing. Hopefully. Maybe.

  Christ. He’d landed himself into a fine mess.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Abigail stood next to her mother managing to mostly ignore the lecture currently in progress.

  “Abby, you must appear available and ready to dance,” Lady Montgomery chastised as her gaze scanned the room.

  Abigail straightened her spine, ready to do her mother’s bidding.

  “But not so available that you seem morally loose.”

  And at that statement, Abigail’s shoulders dropped a quarter inch, her jaw clenching. Was it any wonder she never managed to relax enough to smile and have fun?

  She knew her mother meant well, but Abigail was being worried half to death.

  “Perhaps I’ll check my appearance in the lady’s repose,” Abigail offered, hoping that a few minutes alone would help her to recenter herself.

  Find what she’d had yesterday in the marquess’s company.

  But her mother shook her head. “You need to be here. Being seen.”

  Abigail shook her head. “I need—”

  “Don’t argue.” Her mother raised her finger. “After all your father and I have done, the least you can do is stand here and pretend to be interested in the party, in finding a husband.”

  Abigail clenched her hands in the folds of her skirts. She was ungrateful for wishing to use the repose? She opened her mouth to say something, anything that might relieve the situation or express her anger. That same feeling that made her want to do something daring like kiss a rogue or go on an adventure also had her wishing to tell her mother to take two large steps back. But how to say it?

  She didn’t quite know but as she was about to speak, a deep voice rumbled behind her. “Am I interrupting?”

  She spun, Hart standing rather close behind her. Close enough that she nearly bumped him with her breasts as she circled to face him.

  He shot his hand out, grasping her arm to keep her from knocking into him. “My lord,” she said, sounding breathy as she attempted to curtsey, but he was still holding her arm, so her bob came off awkward and one-sided.

  For the first time since she’d met him, she watched the way his smile tugged at his lips and
crinkled in the corners of his eyes in the nicest way.

  His stern look was very handsome but this flicker of amusement stole her breath. He looked devilishly good and sinfully appealing.

  “Lady Abigail,” he returned, slowly releasing her arm.

  Her mother had turned too, and she cleared her throat. “You’ve been introduced?”

  Abigail nodded. By some miracle, her mother had allowed her to attend Daisy’s wedding with Lady Mildred as her companion. Which meant that Lady Montgomery hadn’t witnessed the introduction to Lord Hartwell. A gentleman could not just approach a lady without one. “Of course. He is Her Grace’s brother.”

  Her mother gave a quick nod, her gaze moving up and down Hart. Abigail might have shaken her head. After all the lectures, was her mother truly trying to scare the man off?

  “A pleasure, Lady Montgomery,” Hart said with a bow.

  “And you, my lord,” her mother said, looking none too pleased.

  “I’ve met your husband on several occasions and always find his company exceedingly pleasant.”

  Her mother frowned. “Most do.”

  Hart’s brows went up as he looked back at Abigail. Her response was to press her lips together without a word. Her mother’s personality was the stronger of the two, despite the fact that her father was an earl.

  And her mother frequently criticized her husband, Abigail’s father, for not supporting her more. But honestly, England wouldn’t hold them if he weren’t so pleasant.

  “Yes, well,” Hart said, clearing his throat. “It’s good to finally meet you.” Then he looked at Abigail again. “I hoped to ask your daughter for a dance.”

  Her mother gave a quick nod, taking a step back.

  But Hart never actually asked, he simply took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. Then without a word, he started to escort her about the room.

  Abigail looked at him, a smile playing about her lips. “You never asked which dance.”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “I know your dance card is empty.”

  Her chin dropped, her gaze upon the floor. Those words stung. It was, in fact, empty, but the idea of him knowing that without even looking, confirmed all her worst ideas about herself. She was dull. That had to be the answer.