Page 11 of An Earl Most Inconvenient (Regency Mishaps #2)
CHAPTER 11
“ P ray, forgive me, Lady Grace,” Tristan said, getting to his feet. “There are a few details I must check with the butler, before the rest of the evening continues. I will return shortly.”
Grace, who had been seated next to him for the duration of dinner, smiled prettily. “Of course, My Lord.”
He resisted the urge to say something suggestive to her, perhaps to imply that she would miss him while he was gone. The situation was rather delicate, and he was determined to convince her, and her sister too, that he was not a rake, despite whatever nonsense they might have heard being said about him.
He withdrew to his study and rang the bell for the butler, then exchanged a few words with him about arrangements for the evening and the following morning. There were some complications about who was sleeping where, and he wanted to ensure that everything was resolved.
Once it was all settled, he left the room and allowed himself a moment of solitude, leaning against the wall in the dimly lit corridor, the faint sounds of laughter and conversation drifting from the drawing room.
The dinner had gone well, he reflected, apart from Lord Pembroke’s rather bizarre outburst. He could not figure out what the motive of the man could have been, other than his senses being dulled with wine. He hoped that there would not be a repeat of such behavior and that he would not come to regret having invited the man to join the party. The moment that lingered in his mind above all others, though, was when he had defended Lady Diana from the lord’s cutting remarks.
He had not expected to find himself rising to her defense, but when the words of that insipid lord had pierced the air, something primal had awakened within him. The way she had looked, her cheeks flushed with fury, had stirred a protective instinct he could hardly comprehend. He had felt a rush of irritation on her behalf, and before he knew it, he had spoken up, much to his own surprise, and in spite of his keen awareness that everyone was watching. He hoped that Lady Diana had recovered from the encounter and had not been too embarrassed by it, but from what he knew of her character so far, he imagined that she would have found the whole situation very difficult to deal with.
He prepared himself to return to his guests, who would have moved into the drawing room by now. But his plans were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching along the corridor. He looked up to see Lady Diana approaching him, a little tentatively perhaps, but he could not help but admire the way the soft light caught her features, illuminating the delicate curve of her neck and the way her hair fell in gentle waves.
“Lady Diana,” he greeted her. “I am surprised to see you here. Did you feel the need for a break from the other guests? I must confess that I would not blame you for it.”
She smiled rather hesitantly. “I was hoping to find you, My Lord,” she admitted. “I wished to speak to you away from the other guests.”
He raised an eyebrow. This was a little risky for her, he thought, to be seeking him out in a gloomy corridor and wanting to speak to him in private.
“Alone?” he said, stepping a little closer to her. “Surely you are not here to scold me?” He could not think what he could have done wrong this time, but experience told him that no matter what he did, she would be displeased.
Her cheeks flushed, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction. He knew it was wrong, but he could not help but enjoy it a little when she blushed in front of him.
“I came to thank you, actually,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “For your…defense of my character at the table.”
He could not resist the opportunity to tease, despite her candor. “Ah, so my reputation as a gentleman is safe for another evening. I must admit, it is refreshing to hear you speak so graciously, when I know that you have such a low opinion of me in general.”
Diana’s brow furrowed, and he could see the internal struggle playing out on her face. “You needn’t have done it, truly. It was not necessary. Yet, I am grateful nonetheless.”
“Grateful?” He raised an eyebrow. He could not help but relish her discomfort. “And dare I ask whether it has changed your opinion of my character? All our previous encounters tell me that you do not think well of me, so perhaps this evening has changed that?”
She pressed on, an edge of defiance in her tone. “It does not change my opinion of you, My Lord. My manners simply would not allow me to overlook your act of kindness.”
As he stepped closer, he felt the air between them crackle with tension. He could not help but observe that she was particularly beautiful when she was not angry with him, although even he would not have gone so far as to say such a thing out loud. And even now, he could see that flash in her eyes that suggested to him that she was not entirely calm.
“I must confess I am disappointed,” he replied. “It is my sole aim for this gathering, to convince you that I am a decent man after all.”
“It would hardly be a compliment, My Lord,” Diana replied, “for me to call you decent. Simply the least that anyone would expect of someone in your position.”
Tristan grinned. “Well, perhaps I shall lower my expectations a little. But I confess that I did enjoy coming to your rescue.”
As she stood before him, he savored the way her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade. “It was not necessary, My Lord,” she said, her voice low, almost a whisper. “But I am grateful all the same.”
“I have embarrassed you, somehow,” he said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to match hers. “I find that your blush suits you remarkably well. It adds a certain…vibrancy to your character.”
Diana looked away, and he could see the wheels turning in her mind. “I must remind you that flattery will not earn you my favor, My Lord.”
“Ah, but you are to be my future sister-in-law, are you not?” he said, infusing his tone with mock seriousness. “It is my duty to defend you against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or in this case, the barbs of ill-mannered dinner guests.”
He watched as her expression shifted, a hint of disappointment flickering across her features. Perhaps she wanted to believe that he had done it for her own sake, rather than out of a sense of familial duty. And perhaps she was right? The thought stirred something unsettling in his gut. He had acted on instinct, and he had not fully understood his motives himself. And he sensed that she was second-guessing him even now, as they stood together in the dimly-lit corridor.
“So you only did it to get on my good side?” Diana said, her eyes fixed on his.
“Lady Diana, surely you must know that I am determined to make you change your mind about me? But you seem put out, somehow. It seems that no matter what I do, I disappoint you in some way.”
She shook her head, almost as if she were trying to shake a particular thought out of her mind. “It is of no consequence,” she said quickly.
The truth of it, though, he realized, as he looked at her, was that he had been so irritated to see someone insulting her, that he could not stand by and do nothing. Every fiber of his being had wanted to defend her, and he could not fight against it. But how could he explain that to her? It was impossible.
“I have irritated you yet again,” he said. He tried to keep his voice teasing, but there was something genuine in the way he was feeling. He had not intended to annoy her, only to save her from the attentions of that awful man.
“And I had such high hopes for this evening,” he went on. “But at least it is far more enjoyable to irritate you when you are not seething with indignation.” He hoped that his smile would disarm her a little; he could see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes, tempered by the hint of a smile threatening to break through her carefully-composed facade. How he wished he could see it break down entirely and that she would let her true self be revealed.
Diana rolled her eyes, the exasperation evident on her face, yet a smile began to tug at the corners of her lips. “My opinion of you has not changed, My Lord, despite my gratitude,” she replied. Her tone was measured but light, and he could see that she was still not fully at ease in his company.
“And now we must return to the party. We should not be here alone.” She turned, her back to him, but something compelled him to reach out; he felt an urge, somehow, to bridge the distance that had formed between them. His fingers grazed her cheek in a gentle touch, a fleeting moment that felt both bold and intimate.
“Indeed we should not,” he murmured. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips, a warmth that sent an unexpected thrill through him. “And yet, here we are again, alone together.” The atmosphere shifted, charged with an unspoken tension.
She paused and he sensed her breath catching in her throat. There was uncertainty in her gaze, but also something electric about the way she looked at him then. There was a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something deeper in her eyes that made his heart race.
“You are my future sister-in-law, after all,” he added, trying to inject a softer note into the conversation, as if to quell the rising tension between them. He was making an effort to lighten the mood, but also to convince himself that his intentions remained purely familial, despite the undeniable chemistry crackling in the space between them.
He took a steadying breath, mentally preparing himself to return to the festivities of the party. But the encounter weighed heavily on his mind, like a shadow that refused to fade. Had he said too much, or perhaps not enough? The questions swirled in his mind, leaving him in a state of disquiet. As he watched her walk away, her figure retreating into the drawing room, he felt a pang of regret, a longing for a moment that could have been different, more than just a fleeting brush with intimacy. The laughter and chatter of the party faded into the background, replaced by the echo of his own thoughts, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had shifted between them.