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“Exactly,” she could only answer. “And how about you, My Lord? Do you intend to marry?”

She immediately regretted asking the question because it elicited a genuine laugh from him. And to see him laugh,trulylaugh, was a dangerous sight. His face softened, his blue eyes became even brighter, and his body rippled in a way that no laughter should provoke.

“Oh, My Lady. That would take some serious imagination on anyone’s part. Me, Lord Crawford, the absolute rake, domesticated. A loving husband and a doting father.” He shook his head.

Diana should have seen the insult, the recklessness in his words, but her womanly instincts picked up something more akin to bitterness. She had the crazy idea that perhaps despite his rakish ways, this man wanted exactly the very thing he renounced—being a husband and a father. She sensed that perhaps he wanted to belong.

He turned to her and leaned closer, and the glint in his eyes made her mind go blank.

Was she right?Did he really want to?—?

“You see, Lady Diana, we are not so different, you and I,” he purred.

And it’s gone.

All those senseless thoughts of him being forlorn were blown into smithereens when that seductive smile spread across his face.

The man was a rake through and through.

“I think, My Lady, that you and I may be the only sane people in the ton,” he said and patted the hand she had on his arm.

“I do not know what I dread the most. What your definition ofsaneis or the fact that whatever it is, you put me in the same category as you,” Diana deadpanned.

He laughed again, but this time, Diana was wise enough to avert her gaze and resume the calculation of the appropriate duration of a promenade.

CHAPTER 7

White Orchids

As a general rule, James hated promenades, especially in the perfectly maintained and absurdly manicured St. James Park. But to every rule, there were exceptions, and he found that this promenade was an enjoyable one. He wasn’t lying earlier. This was the most fun he had had in a while. In forever, if he were being honest with himself.

He couldn’t quite specifically name what made this promenade so vastly different. It could be the twisted idea that the woman reluctantly holding onto his arm was exactly that, reluctant. Not an obligation that his grandmother had forced upon him, not a too-eager granddaughter of a friend, not a lady thinking she could change him with her love.

But since he was in the realm of honest truths, it was all because of Diana.Her, specifically. She was a different breed to what he was used to.

An unsettling thought.

He decided that it was best to focus on the winding path that he had purposefully chosen. He told himself that he did it so he could vex her more. These were not well-reputed paths. Oh, they gave many excuses—rare flowers were some sparse art that could constitute enough reason to draw a lady out here. He should know.

“How about this way, My Lady?”

“Is it closer to the carriages?”

“Do not worry, I am not cutting our promenade short.”

“Pity.”

“It would be to be deprived of our banter. I find that I quite enjoy it.”

“You do?”

“Wholeheartedly. Though I feel obliged to warn you.”

The look in his eyes was clear enough. It was too steady and tinged with dark amusement. He didn’t have to voice any warning—Diana got the message loud and clear. Her wide, shocked eyes told him as much.

“You assume I am afraid,” she almost stuttered.

“No, My Lady.” His voice dropped in an openly seductive way. “I assume you should be.”