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I zzie had obviously told Lucy that she and Harrington were engaged in a flirtation. Diana found she didn’t mind. Perhaps he had no designs on her and was merely using her for political advice.

But she had decided that she wanted to flirt with him, and she didn’t much care who knew it.

Harrington chuckled, seeming unperturbed. “Good old Izzie.”

The corner of her mouth curled up. “Subtle, as ever. So”—she looped her arm through his and started after the twins at a discreet distance—“tell me what happened with Lord Kinwood.”

He recounted the conversation, and she chuckled when he came to the part where he advised the earl not to call a man an idiot before asking him for a favor. “Well done, you!”

He smiled, but his expression was rueful. “It turned out all right in the end. But I would have floundered without your advice.”

She studied him a beat. “I take it that the conversation has left you feeling uneasy?”

He tore his eyes from hers. “You could say that. I’m in over my head. I’m not up to speed on the issues of the day.”

She considered her words carefully. “Staying abreast of the issues is a full-time job. That is why most politicians, especially those with other responsibilities, as you do to your regiment, employ a secretary. My brother certainly does.”

He laughed bleakly. “That’s a good strategy, if you can afford it. Which I can’t.”

She squeezed his arm. “I think you are being overly severe on yourself. You’ve been thrown into this rather suddenly. But you will find your bearings. Give yourself a chance.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I made it out of the frying pan last night. But I seem to have leapt straight back into the fire. I mentioned last night that I had received a summons from Horse Guards…”

He told her about his meeting with William Windham and how the Secretary of State had asked him to drum up votes for the Pensions to Soldiers Act.

“I was hoping to ask your opinion about Windham. Is he a scoundrel, like Kinwood?”

“He’s not,” Diana said at once. “He’s a good man, but…

” She paused, considering how best to describe the Secretary of State.

“He’s an academic at heart and is sometimes out of his depth when it comes to Parliament.

His ideas are lofty, but often impractical, and he has no talent for political machinations.

But I don’t think he is the sort to deliberately mislead you as Lord Kinwood attempted to do. ”

He pulled some papers from his coat pocket. “These are the acts he’s asked me to support. I didn’t see anything objectionable about them, but I’d like to hear your opinion.”

I’d like to hear your opinion . The words were as sweet to her ears as honey on her tongue. Who gave a fig about marrying a lord? Diana found she much preferred this man, who valued her thoughts.

They paused in the dappled shade of a tree, ignoring the lovely view of the Serpentine beside them, while Diana pored over the proposed acts. After she finished reading, she looked up. “This seems fine to me.”

His eyes flared with hope. “Do you really think so?”

“I do.” She looped her arm through his, resuming their stroll. The twins were well out of earshot. In the distance, she saw them peering back at them, curious about what she was getting up to with their brother. If only they knew …

Harrington exhaled. “That’s what Edward said as well. If both of you think it’s all right, I can’t do better than that. Now I just have to figure out how to persuade the holdouts to support our side.”

“Indeed. What is your strategy?”

He pulled another sheet of paper from his pocket. “Mr. Windham provided me with a list of opponents to the bill.”

They stopped again, and Diana began scanning his list.

“I’ve asked Edward to write me a speech,” he offered.

“No,” she said at once.

He looked adorably flustered. “I know any speech I put together wouldn’t be any good. But if Edward writes it?—”

“I’m sure it would be brilliant. But do you know who is very good at delivering high-minded speeches? William Windham.” She gestured to the list of names he had handed her. “Those who can be swayed by logic and reason already support this act. There’s a reason he turned to you . Look.”

She turned the list of names toward him. “How many of these men do you know?”

“Around half.” He took the list from her and pointed. “I was at school with Webster and Chapman. Doyle was a few years ahead of me, but I know him a little bit. As for Knatchbull and Williams, I’ve run into them at”—he coughed—“places I’d best not mention.”

Considering he had not hesitated to mention such an exalted establishment as The Fishwife’s Tit, it was safe to assume this must be a shocking place, indeed.

She made her voice light. “All the better. If you have some information about these men that they would prefer not become common knowledge, you can use that.”

His mouth was twisted to the side. “Is that really the way things are done? It seems rather… unsporting.”

She jabbed him in the arm. “Not half so unsporting as refusing to grant pensions to disabled soldiers. Unsporting!” She scowled. “You sound like Marcus .”

He grinned. “That’s probably the first time anyone has ever compared me with your brother. I must insist that you relieve my curiosity by telling me how so.”

She waved her arm. “He is always droning on about the rules of engagement and the gentleman’s code when we fence. But I learned to fence from Aunt Griselda, and do you know what she taught me?”

He looked delighted. “What?”

“That the gentleman’s code is a mere fabrication. There is only what works and what doesn’t. It would be a cold comfort to die at the hands of a highwayman, knowing that I followed the rules of engagement when I should have gored him in the eye. And I don’t see how this is any different.”

He was back to cringing. “No?”

“No,” she said firmly. “You might not be one for delivering lofty speeches, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be effective as a politician.

You have your own set of skills.” She gestured back toward the landau.

“You routed that pack of fortune-hunters in one minute flat, and you did it with your wit. I think you should employ a similar approach when it comes to swaying the men on this list to your cause.”

He frowned. “So, I should be… obnoxious and annoying?”

She tossed her head. “So long as you’re obnoxious and annoying for a good cause.”

That earned her a smile. “I do have a certain talent for it. Why should I hide my light under a bushel?”

She gave him an approving nod. “That’s the spirit.

Although…” She tapped her lip, considering.

“There is a time to employ the stick and a time to employ the carrot. Many of the men on this list would like nothing better than to claim you as a friend. In addition to your personal charisma, you are the son of an earl and an officer in the Riflemen. I don’t know if you are aware, but your regiment has become all the rage since your impressive rearguard action in Hanover. ”

“Have they?” Harrington looked genuinely surprised. “It was not a glamorous business, believe me.”

“I am sure that is true. Nevertheless, they have. It was a rare spot of good news on the war front.” She waved her arm.

“On land, anyway. I suspect you will find that green jacket lends you more cachet than you anticipate. And if you’re going to be in politics for the next twenty years, it will behoove you not to go around burning bridges.

So, use the carrot where you can, and the stick where you must.”

He pursed his lips, considering her words. “That sounds suspiciously like wisdom.”

She smiled brightly as she looped her arm through his. “How good of you to notice. Come, we’d best catch up with your sisters. Goodness knows what lurid theories Izzie is formulating about what we’re up to.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He tilted his head toward hers. “I quite enjoy Izzie’s lurid theories.”

Their laughter was interrupted by a voice from the river. “Lady Diana! Oh, Lady Diana!”

She turned to look, her guard back up in an instant.

The sight that greeted her was Rafe Westbrook, one of her more odious suitors, steering a rowboat toward the shore.

Rafe was considered a Corinthian, always up for a boxing match or a race in his highflyer.

He was handsome enough, with thick dark hair, green eyes, and broad shoulders.

But he liked to play deep, and rumor had it that his gaming debts were in the neighborhood of twenty thousand pounds.

And even worse, Diana once overheard him mocking Priscilla Jenkins, both for being a bit plump and for having a lisp.

Diana scarcely knew Priscilla, who was widely regarded as a wallflower.

Still, the remark had done nothing to endear him to Diana.

Rafe was grinning at her. “If this isn’t fate smiling down on me.” He stood, holding out a hand. “Allow me to take you on a tour of the canal.”

“No, thank you,” Diana said coolly.

Ignoring her demurral, Rafe spread his arms wide. “Don’t be shy. It’s a glorious day! What better way to spend it than on the water?”

It was on the tip of Diana’s tongue to answer that she’d rather spend it in the company of a man she could stand. But she bit the sharp words back and said, “I find I am not in the mood for boating. Good day, Mr. Westbrook.”

She was turning away when she felt him seize her wrist from behind. Diana stiffened. How dare he!

Harrington’s voice was sharp. “She said no, Westbrook. Release her. Now!”

Although Diana appreciated his protestations on her behalf, they were unnecessary.

She had been raised by Aunt Griselda, after all.

Executing one of the first techniques her great-aunt had taught her, she twisted her wrist so its thin edge was aligned with Rafe’s joined fingertips, then thrust her hand down as hard as she could.

She slipped from his grasp easily. Her sudden move had the happy effect of causing his boat to pitch perilously forward. Rafe managed to right himself, but only by stepping to the left. This, in turn, caused the boat to list in the opposite direction, and he tumbled over the side.

Abruptly, she realized her error—she was about to get soaked by the splash.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, strong hands seized her about the waist. Harrington swooped her around so that he stood between her and the river.

She felt his body jolt as cold river water sprayed across his broad back. No more than a drop or two touched her.

Time seemed to slow down. He was standing so close, hunched protectively over her, she could feel his breath against her brow and smell his scent, which was of cinnamon.

She became conscious of the feeling of his hands, so much larger than her own, around her waist. She rarely allowed a man near her and felt instinctively defensive when most men put their hands on her waist for something as mundane as a dance.

But Harrington Astley’s hands on her body felt…

right. As if that was where they were supposed to be.

Gracious, his thumb had even settled on the underside of her breast—accidentally, she felt sure, but still. Strangely, she did not mind…

His eyes were heavy-lidded and focused on her lips. “Diana,” he breathed, and it occurred to her that if she slid her arms up, she could wrap them around his neck and pull his head down to hers.

He squeezed her waist, drawing her close…

… which caused his thumb to press into the soft swell of her breast.

His eyes flew open. He must have realized where his hand had landed, because he jerked his hands off her and took a stumbling step back. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to grab your… your…”

“It’s all right.” Diana seized his hand so he wouldn’t back all the way into the Serpentine. “I know you were only trying to shield me.”

Rafe came up sputtering. Izzie and Lucy called out as they jogged along the riverbank, recalling Diana to the fact that they were in the middle of Hyde Park, surrounded by dozens of interested onlookers.

Rafe spat out a mouthful of river water. “What the hell, Astley?”

Diana rolled her eyes. How like a man, to be unable to admit that a woman had felled him. “He didn’t have the slightest thing to do with it.”

Izzie and Lucy arrived on the scene. “Diana, are you all right?” Lucy cried, clasping her hand.

Izzie took a different approach, placing a half-booted foot on the prow of Rafe’s rowboat and giving it a push.

Rafe sputtered protests as it drifted off into the middle of the Serpentine. “How dare you, you?—”

“You’ll want to be careful how you finish that sentence,” Harrington cut in. “You fancy yourself a bit of a boxer. If you insult his wife, I’m sure Thorpe would be happy to settle things in the ring.”

Rafe gave a soggy gulp. Thanks to days spent lifting cannons at his family’s iron forge, Izzie’s husband was built like an ox and had a hard time finding partners willing to spar with him at Gentleman Jackson’s.

Casting Izzie a dark look, Rafe swam after his boat, and at last, they were rid of him.

Lucy was still clucking over Diana. “I’m fine,” she hastened to reassure her. “It’s neither the first nor the last time one of my purported suitors has been overly forward.” She laughed bleakly. “Just another Tuesday in the park.”

“How about you, Harrington?” Izzie asked. “I think you bore the brunt of it.”

He waved this off. “Eh. Believe me, this jacket has seen worse.”

Diana’s heart was still racing as they made their way back to the landau. Harrington had almost kissed her! Surely that meant that he felt something more for her than mere friendship.

Equally stunning was the revelation that, for the first time in her life, Diana had not wanted him to stop.

Of course, it was for the best that they had been interrupted. Rotten Row was not the place for a romantic tête-à-tête. The mere fact that they had been seen walking together would provide grist for the ton’s gossip mill for the next week.

But if they could find a better place, a secluded balcony, or a moonlit garden…

They had come to the landau. A thrill coursed up Diana’s arm as Harrington took her hand to help her into the carriage.

Lord Pearson was hosting a ball three days hence. As she settled back against the squabs, Diana found herself looking forward to the prospect for the first time in several years.