Page 24

D iana laughed as she sat on the blanket, enjoying the warm sun while listening to Costa’s associate Dom Alido explain to them the history of the port.

She touched her hand to her cheeks and realized she was hot but wasn’t sure if it was from the sun or the port they consumed.

She’d found Le Conquet fascinating, but Porto and the surrounding countryside had her heart.

She wondered if she could bring Robert here someday.

Her mind flitted to Arthur. She hadn’t thought much of him since leaving.

His potential proposal still hung in the air.

The man, on the surface, was her perfect match.

She looked around and suspected he would find all of this not up to his standards.

The thought unsettled her. Was her ideal partner someone who wouldn’t enjoy this?

She glanced at Devons, so different from Arthur.

He lounged on another blanket, sipping his port without a care in the world.

She questioned if he were ever not comfortable.

Even mending his broken heart, he seemed content.

She wondered if what he said previously was true.

Did he think his feelings for Lady Wesley were not as deep as he initially thought? Why did that stir something in her?

Diana’s eyes flicked over him. She desired him.

That was why. She could deny it, but no one intrigued her as much as he did.

What was she thinking? He was the one man she shouldn’t have a tryst with.

He was her neighbor and friend and would be somewhat involved in the Historical Society for Female Curators.

One of the reasons she considered having a liaison on this journey was because she would never have to see the man again.

It was simple. What she felt for Devons was already complicated.

Not that it mattered. Whatever feelings or attraction she suspected Devons had for her seemingly diminished the longer they were on their trip.

“Now that I have taught you all about port, enjoy your remaining time here. If you walk past that tree line, you will find Roman ruins,” Dom Alido said while pointing over Diana’s shoulder.

Most of their group headed in the direction Dom Alido pointed. Diana frowned at Devons. He remained behind, lying on his blanket with his hat over his face. Was he sleeping? Diana rose and nudged his foot with hers. “Don’t you think you should see the ruins?”

“No,” he said in a muffled voice from underneath his hat.

“We won’t write about the same things then.”

He grunted and lifted the hat from his handsome face that right now Diana found rather annoying. “It will be fine.”

She frowned at him until he sighed and sat up, readjusting his hat on his head. “Would you really like me to accompany you?”

“Of course.”

He stood, grumbling about wanting to enjoy a sunny nap. He held out his arm. “As you wish.”

Diana glared at him, tired of his moodiness. “Stay. I don’t need you to join me. I suddenly find that my own company may be better.”

She wouldn’t cajole the man to spend time with her.

She didn’t need him, nor his disinterest. Ignoring his arm, she walked off, heading towards the ruins.

She heard Devons utter a word unsuitable for any lady.

Diana didn’t stop, weaving her way through people.

Once through the crowd, she paused to catch her breath.

A firm wall slammed into the back of her. Devons had been on her heels. He grabbed her waist to steady them both. She didn’t turn around but bit out, “You can go back to your nap. I don’t need your presence.”

He released her and leaned against a stone wall. “Diana, I’m sorry. I’m a little weary of sightseeing today. I should have asked to return to the SS Lark early.”

Diana didn’t believe him. He’d been different since arriving in Porto, and she didn’t understand why. She wondered if his mind was on the lady who hurt him. A pain pierced her heart.

“Are you thinking about Lady Wesley?”

His eyes flew to her face, and he laughed as if she said the most absurd thing. She flushed, embarrassed. Devons’s laughter subsided, and his gaze turned intent. Finally, he said, “Are you enjoying yourself with the count?”

The question startled her. She shrugged. “He is charming.”

His lips twisted into a smirk. “Perhaps a contender for an affair.”

She felt herself go red again. Unhappy with his harshness and a tone she suspected conveyed judgment, Diana replied, “I don’t know. Are you about to lecture me if I were?”

“That would be hypocritical of me. I just thought I would offer some advice.”

Diana lifted a brow. “Continue.”

Sebastian pushed himself away from the wall and leaned forward so his mouth was a breath away from her ear.

“Remember that regardless of the partner, the dalliance you are seeking should be about your pleasure. Too often, lovers can be selfish. If you sense Messina may be that way, let him go. You want a man who wants to fulfill your desires. Don’t waste your time on someone who doesn’t do that.

There are plenty of men who would be more than willing. ”

His words made Diana gasp. She stepped back, and they stared at one another. What was Devons up to? He disconcerted her, and Diana thought it was intentional for some reason. “I see no reason to suspect Messina would be selfish.”

He pressed his mouth together, annoyed. Was the man jealous? He couldn’t be. “Devons—”

“I think Messina is exactly who you are looking for. Then you can go back to London life with no one being the wiser. The proper marchioness with an impending courtship on the horizon,” he said, interrupting her.

Her eyes flashed with anger. She was tired of his surliness. “Hopefully, once on the ship, you will return to your normal charming self. I’m not sure I like this moody Devons.”

A smirk filled his handsome face, and Diana had the urge to snap at him but was prevented from doing so by the arrival of her aunt, Spoor, and Costa.

Her aunt and Spoor continued on, not even acknowledging them.

The two were whispering and giggling. Diana had seen Spoor in the area of their hotel rooms early this morning.

He’d bashfully smiled and hurried away. It seemed her aunt had already accomplished what she was failing at.

“I hope you have enjoyed your visit, Lady Hensley and Mr. Devons,” Costa said, interrupting her thoughts.

She forced a smile. “I have loved it.”

Surly Devons grunted and Diana rolled her eyes, exasperated with the man.

Costa didn’t seem to notice and continued, “I know I’m biased, as I was raised here, but I have traveled the world, and there is no place like Porto.”

Diana nodded. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

Devons gave his head a jerk, agreeing with them. Costa beamed, delighted they were enjoying themselves. “I heard Count Messina is traveling with you to Malaga.”

“Yes. He mentioned he has business,” Diana said.

Costa chuckled. “He has business everywhere. He deals in exports and imports of goods when he is not escorting the princess.”

Diana’s eyes widened, and her gaze swung to Devons before turning back to Costa. “Really? What type of goods?”

“Antiquities.”

“Of course,” Devons muttered.

Her eyes flicked to him, and she frowned. The news had only made him surlier. Diana smiled at Costa. “Thank you so much for the information.”

Costa nodded and held his arm out. “We should return. We will be leaving soon for your ship.”

Diana looked behind her and saw Devons strolling along with them. She sighed and glanced away. She’d so enjoyed her time with him and hoped this grumpiness was momentary.

*

Sebastian made his way to the main saloon, where everyone was gathered for after-dinner games and drinks.

In some ways, being on the SS Lark reminded him of the Den, except here, he didn’t play the part of host, and shockingly, he didn’t miss it.

Perhaps because this wasn’t his ship. He’d invested a monumental amount of time into making the Den a success because it was his.

He perused the room and found both Messina and Monroe keeping Diana company.

Didn’t at least Monroe have work to do? Sebastian gave Diana space, not wanting to interfere in her choices.

In truth, he didn’t like either one of them.

He’d thought long and hard about his own feelings for Diana.

Not feelings, he reminded himself, but attraction.

He’d been tempted more than once to pursue her.

But a fling with Diana wouldn’t end well.

They had too many family members and friends between them.

She was also his neighbor. And even more concerning to Sebastian, he could damage her reputation.

Even though she hated it, she was highly respected within society, probably more than any other woman he associated with.

This trip was a brief adventure into the risqué for her, unlike Sebastian, who operated in vice every day.

If a hint that they were intimate got out, it would be scandalous.

Hell, when they’d departed on this ship, no one had suspected such a thing could happen because she was perceived as the epitome of properness. He would not be the cause of gossip about her. No, she didn’t need that. Nor did the club that she and Addie were standing up for.

He glanced at her, reaffirming to himself that there would be no tryst or liaison between them.

Messina or Monroe would be perfect. She could have a flirtation or something else and return to England with society being none the wiser.

He simply had to move past his attraction to the lady. It was the only option.

He took a big gulp of his brandy, annoyed that he felt the desire to go to her.

To sit with her. To talk with her. And that terrified him more than the lust coursing through him because it meant he liked her.

Sebastian assured himself that it was only because they were stuck on this ship together that he had such thoughts.

She was the mother of a soon-to-be duke. Yes, she was a lady so far out of his league when it came to a real courtship that he couldn’t allow himself to consider such an option. He’d been a witness to his own parents’ scandalous life. He would never put himself in a similar situation.

As much as he admired her and truly considered her a friend, he needed, for now, to keep her at arm’s length. Perhaps, he would find a woman to spend time with during their stay in Malaga that would cure him of his outrageous thoughts.

“You have been rather quiet tonight, Devons,” Haggerty interrupted.

“Have I been?”

Haggerty chuckled. “I told Lady Hensley that her club can display two of the manuscripts.”

“Well done, Haggerty.”

“Do you think it odd that Lady Hensley was picked to be the face of this new club? I have seen her at other events, and I would have never guessed she had interest in such a lofty plan.”

Devons suspected many people underestimated what Diana was capable of, including herself. But he also believed the Diana who left on the SS Lark wouldn’t be the same one when she returned to London.

“I can’t imagine anyone else fulfilling the role.”

Haggerty looked at Diana and nodded. “Now that I have become acquainted with her, I think you are quite right.”

Devons would keep her at arm’s length, but he would support her and the club. He’d not only felt as if he was championing the club for Addie but now also for Diana.

A few hours later, Devons dropped his pen and stretched.

He’d finished writing his next letter to the London newspapers about Porto.

Of their two ports so far, Porto by far had been the best, but he wasn’t sure if he felt that way because Diana had loved it so much.

He’d been amused at her love of a city that in some ways seemed the exact opposite of her proper world in London.

Did she know that so much of what was found in Porto could be found in the city she lived in if one knew where to look? He smiled and looked down at his note.

To the Ladies of London,

What greeted us in Porto should be seen by all of you fine ladies.

A romantic city with a hint of darkness.

At this stop, we learned about a vengeful love-sick king who did everything to show his adoration for the woman he loved.

Then of course, a visit to this lovelorn city is not complete without attending an opera at the Teatro do Principe.

I fear Lady Hensley enjoyed that more than I.

We finished the visit with a trip to the countryside to learn about the process of making one of the finest drinks, port. Lady Hensley may be upset with me for revealing this, but I dare say even she enjoyed a sip.

Sebastian Devons.