As he relaxed fractionally, she added, "I will make you a promise, my lord. On further acquaintance I may decide that you will not suit me, but I will never make sport of you."
He smiled faintly and the lightening of his dark features did make him austerely handsome. "I hope that is true. There is a great deal that I will not tolerate, even from a woman of your quite remarkable beauty."
"And there is a great deal I will not accept, even from a man of your no-doubt-remarkable wealth," Diana answered with an edge of irritation in her voice.
Surprise touched his dark face for a moment. Then his smile widened. "You have a high-handed way with you, Mrs. Lindsay."
"It is merely wise commerce, my lord," she said, shifting her weight gracefully from one foot to the other. Motion rippled the silk dress across her body and she could see by his tension that he noticed, and was affected by, that subtle display.
With a mischievous desire to discomfit him further, Diana shifted the conversation to a more intellectual plane. "Like any merchant, I seek to sell what customers demand. Since the market can be a profitable one, I would be foolish not to negotiate the best possible terms for what I sell."
His lordship's mouth quirked with amusement. "But surely your price is threatened by too large a supply of cut-rate goods? They say that in London, one woman in ten is selling the same product that you are, and that doesn't count women who supply the same service for free, or under lifetime contract."
Diana laughed. "You are confusing two different commodities. Many women sell their femaleness, but women of unusual beauty sell dreams."
There was an odd, disconcerted look in his eye as he murmured, "Not only bold but vain."
Diana raised her brows. "Is it vanity to know one's worth? I am a merchant, with only a few short years to sell my wares before time diminishes the value. Why should I not seek the best price?" St. Aubyn had alarmed her at first, but she was beginning to enjoy the discussion. She had never talked to a man this way, and the combination of intellectual banter and erotic undercurrents was powerfully stimulating. "Money is important, but most of the men here will pay well, so why should I not choose to please myself in other ways?"
"It's a compelling argument," Lord St. Aubyn said dryly, "but if your standards are too high, perhaps I will be unable to meet them. I should regret that very much."
In spite of the lightness of his words, there was an intensity about him that Diana found threatening. It was only the primitive part of her that believed in fate. On the surface, this was a business transaction, and the choice to proceed was hers.
With a coolness to match his, she said, "Then try to meet my standards, Lord St. Aubyn. Charm me, make me feel beautiful and desirable. Or is charm not an attribute that you have cultivated?"
He reached out one hand and touched her cheek. His fingers were warm and strong, and Diana was acutely aware of his powerful masculinity. Her body responded with a melting warmth that spread and weakened her, that made her wish to open her arms and yield to his wishes. It was utterly different from anything she had ever experienced before, and she was suddenly frightened, not of this dark man with cool eyes and warm hands, but of herself.
St. Aubyn said softly, "No one has ever accused me of charm, but I do have other attributes." Then he lifted her chin with one finger and bent his head to kiss her, his mouth warm on hers, undemanding but infinitely promising. Their bodies did not touch, and the fierce current of mutual attraction was concentrated between their lips with a force like wildfire.
Diana had feared her first kiss, both the intimacy itself and the risk that she would betray her inexperience. Now her heart began pounding. She had not known a kiss could be like this.
Oh, no, most certainly she had not expected this. His clear gray eyes were so close and intent that surely he must see her dizziness, must know that she desired to press against him, to discover if that hard body was as warm and welcoming as his lips.
There was no room in her for fear, and Diana was both relieved and bereft when he lifted his head and dropped his hand. She stepped back, wanting to put more distance between them. Grateful that her voice was steady, she smiled faintly, as if such kisses were as common as breathing. "I will set that to your account. It goes some way toward compensating for other lacks."
There was a flash in his eyes and she wondered if she had angered him, but then he chuckled. "When you retire from your present trade, you can become a clerk in the city, keeping accounts and totaling figures."
Amusement still in his voice, he surveyed her lazily. "You are clearly something of an expert when it comes to figures." Before she could respond to the double entendre, he asked, "Do you ride?"
Diana hesitated. "I have, but it was some years ago and I do not keep a hack in London."
"That is easily remedied. I can mount you if you consent to go riding with me."
More double meanings. Diana colored faintly, but she was determined to be his equal in aplomb. "In that case, I should be delighted to join you."
"Tomorrow morning then, at seven o'clock?"
Usually Diana breakfasted with Geoffrey before he went to school, but she had known that her new enterprise would cause changes in her domestic schedule. She would compensate by spending more time with him later. "Very well, my lord, seven o'clock tomorrow, number seventeen Charles Street."
He gave a nod of satisfaction. "I shall bring a horse suitable for a lady who has not ridden in some time."
"Thank you, my lord." With a slow, teasing smile, she added, "It is not necessary that the beast be a complete slug."
"I shall bear that in mind: one horse, gentle but not sluggish. Now, let me return you to your admirers."
St. Aubyn offered his arm and Diana tucked her hand into the elbow of his dark blue coat. Even through the layers of heavy fabric she felt the taut power of that arm and she shivered.
Madeline had told her that the drug of sexual desire could bring a strong man to his knees, but surely that was not true of a man such as this. His strength was not merely physical; there was determination and quiet control behind those clear, icy eyes. He might desire her, but it was impossible to imagine that he would let any woman hold power over him.
Uneasily she remembered that Madeline had also said that desire might equally bind a woman to a man. Diana had not believed that could happen to her, who had lived so well without physical passion, but now she was not so sure. Glancing up at St. Aubyn's stern profile, she thought of Lord Ridgley, with his kind eyes and obvious desire to please.
Diana shrugged fatalistically as St. Aubyn returned her to her chair, then bowed and took his leave. On one level, she had the freedom to choose whomever she wished as a lover, but on another level, she had no choice at all. There was no wisdom or calculation in her response to the dark lord.
She knew only that fate had bound them together.
Chapter 4
Some of Diana's admirers looked reproachfully at her for having permitted another man a kiss; more attempted to lure her into a quiet corner where they could take similar liberties. Resisting their blandishments, she quickly teased them into good humor again. Getting Madeline into a good mood later in the evening was another matter. The older woman had seen the byplay with St. Aubyn, and as soon as they left in their carriage she gave vent to her feelings. "For heaven's sake, Diana, why did you let him single you out in such a public manner?"
"I'm not a seventeen-year-old with a spotless reputation to protect. Quite the contrary," Diana said mildly. "Besides, I was in full view the whole time."
"Yes, and in full view of everyone, you let him kiss you."
"I didn't precisely let him."
A torch outside the carriage briefly illuminated Madeline's exasperated countenance. "That makes it worse. If you wish to succeed as a courtesan, you must be in control of what is happening, not succumb to every passing advance."
"I succumbed to only one."
"But with St. Aubyn, of all people!"
&
nbsp; "Is there something wrong with him?" Diana asked curiously. "Did you know him when you lived in London before?"
"No." The shake of Madeline's head was felt rather than seen in the dark. "I made inquiries this evening after he left. He was in India for some years in the army, returning home a couple of years ago when he inherited the title."
"Well?" Diana prompted. "What did you learn? Is he a gambler who has lost the family fortune, or a scoundrel despised by honorable men?"
"Nooo," Madeline said slowly, "nothing quite so obvious."
"I am going riding with the man tomorrow morning, so if you wish to persuade me to avoid him, you had better speak more clearly." Diana spoke with a trace of unaccustomed sarcasm.
Madeline sighed. "People react oddly when he is mentioned. He seems to be a cold man, respected, but perhaps not much liked." After a long silence she added, "They say he is the principal spymaster of the government, and that he drove his wife mad and keeps her locked in a castle in Scotland."
"Heavens," Diana said with a lift of her brows. "How gothic! Is there any evidence for such charges?"
"Not really," Madeline admitted. "I questioned as many people as I could, and no one is even sure that he is married, but since the rumor is persistent it must mean something. St. Aubyn seldom goes out in society, and there was considerable comment when he appeared at Harriette's tonight." As an afterthought she added, "He's very rich."
"Of the things you have just told me, what makes him an unsuitable choice as a protector? Certainly not his wealth."
The carriage pulled up in front of the house and Madeline didn't answer as they entered and climbed up to the older woman's rooms. The floor contained two suites, each with bedchamber, sitting room, built-in closets, and bath chambers with the incredible luxury of fitted tubs. In the past the front suite had been Maddy's, but now she preferred the back because it was quieter. Geoffrey and Edith had the floor above, and the female servants lived in the attics.
Diana felt compunction when she saw the fatigue on her friend's face. In spite of her restored health, Maddy was no longer young, she had been very ill, and this return to her old life must be a strain even without her concern for her protégée. Sitting Madeline down, Diana poured a glass of sherry for her, then pulled the pins from her friend's dark hair and began brushing it out.
When Madeline was more comfortable, Diana asked again, "Why would Lord St. Aubyn be such a poor choice for a lover?"
"Because of the kind of man he is: cold and unloving. Even if he is not a spy and never had a wife, he is unlikely to make you happy." Madeline sighed and closed her eyes. "You will allow that I know more about men and love than you do?"
"Of course I will admit that." Diana unfastened Maddy's dress, then helped her into a soft red wrapper. With a sigh of relaxation, the older woman curled up in the chair while Diana poured a glass of sherry for herself, then sat on the sofa opposite Madeline and began to unpin her own hair. "Now, tell me, why does St. Aubyn disturb you so much?"
Maddy absently twisted the stem of her sherry glass. "My strongest objection to your entering this life is that you are too emotional, too loving. I doubt your ability to let your head rule your heart where a lover is concerned. A successful courtesan must have some detachment. The worst thing she can do is to fall in love with her protector." With a crooked smile she added, "I did that. I can't recommend it."
Diana gazed into the amber wine. "Can love ever be wrong?"
Madeline shrugged wearily. "It may not be wrong, but it is often painful. It won't keep you warm and comfortable in your later years when your lover has discarded you for a younger woman or retired to live piously with his wellborn wife."
Diana had always suspected that something more than illness had driven Madeline from London two years ago. She said with gentle compassion, "I'm sorry. Is that what happened to you?"
Madeline was silent for so long that Diana thought she would not answer. Finally she said, "Not really. Nicolas was my last protector, for over seven years. His evil-tempered wife lived in the country so we were able to spend much of our time together in London. He was the one who bought this house for me, and he was here more often than in his own home."
She sipped her sherry, lost in her memories. Then she said bleakly, "He wanted to marry me. Isn't that droll?"
"Not in the least," Diana answered quietly, drawing her fingers through her long tresses to loosen the snarls. "You are lovely and kind, a desirable wife for any man."
The candlelight caught a gleam of tears in Madeline's eyes. "It is not quite unknown for a man like him to marry a woman like me. After all, Emma Harte became the British ambassadress to Sicily by marrying Sir William Hamilton, and she was no better born or behaved than I. Society's high sticklers might have cut Nicolas and me, but that wouldn't have bothered either of us."
Her face tightened. "But Nicolas was not free to marry. His wife was far too cold a woman to be guilty of misconduct, so there was no possibility of divorce. Still, we were happy until his wife decided to end his relationship with me, threatening to ruin him with his family and their children.
"He was badly torn. He did not want to give me up, but everything in his life was being weighed on the other side of the scales." She rotated the fragile stem of her sherry glass between stiff fingers. "I have wondered if my grief at the situation had something to do with my illness. I have seen it before, how unhappiness leads to bad health." Lifting the glass, she drained it, and Diana silently rose and poured more.
In a stronger voice Madeline said, "I left London, partly so that he would no longer have to choose between me and the rest of his life, partly so that he wouldn't have to see me die. You know the rest."
"I see." Diana was silent for a moment. "Is your Nicolas still in London?"
Madeline shook her head. "No, that is the first thing I inquired about once we arrived here. He is living entirely at his estate in the country now. I would not be going out in public if there were any chance of meeting him." With sad finality she whispered, "I couldn't bear to see him again. Nothing has changed. Or at least, I haven't. Perhaps he has. I hope so. It would be easier for him if he no longer loves me."
Diana's face reflected her compassion. It was typical of the older woman's generous spirit that she wished her lover free of the sorrow that she herself still suffered.
Maddy sighed. "Do you understand better why a courtesan shouldn't fall in love with her protector? There may be moments of joy, but those are few compared to the pain. There are so many ways in which a grand passion can be disastrous, and almost none in which it can bring happiness. It is far better to have a protector who is a friend, or one whom you love only a little."
"If St. Aubyn is as cold as you believe, do you really think I could fall in love with him?"
"I think you will fall in love with any man you choose as your lover," Madeline said bluntly. "It is a bad habit women have, and you are more vulnerable than most. You yourself don't know how much you are crying out to be loved, and to love back."
"But I have a great deal of love in my life... Geoffrey, Edith, you," Diana stated with maddening calm. "Why are you so sure I will fall headlong for a man just because we are lovers?"
"Sexual love is very different from love for a child or a friend. No matter how powerful those other loves are, they don't fill the basic need of a woman to have a man." Madeline leaned forward a little, her voice earnest. "Please, trust my judgment on this and don't become involved with St. Aubyn. Choose a man like Lord Ridgley. He isn't half so handsome, but he will adore you. Or that lovely boy Clinton, who will write poems to your eyebrows. Even if there is pain at the end, it won't be devastating and you will have some happy memories of the affair."
She shook her head wearily. "I've known men like St. Aubyn. Certainly he is attractive and can afford to pay generously for the privilege of keeping you. He may even provide pleasure in bed. But he will give you little kindness, and less love."
Diana drew her knees up
on the sofa and linked her arms around them, leaning her head forward. Her voice low, she said, "I'm sorry, Maddy. I daresay you are right, but... this is something I must do."
"Good God, Diana, why?" Madeline exclaimed. "Whenever something really important is at issue, you just look mysterious and say that it is something you must do. We are supposed to be friends, yet I have no more idea what is in your mind than if you were a Chinaman. You have intelligence. Why the devil can't you use it?"
Diana's voice was unsteady when she replied. "I'm sorry, I know this is hard for you, and I know that you are doing your best to save me from unnecessary grief."
She stopped, trying to find some way to explain. Eventually she replied, choosing her words carefully, "It isn't a matter of intelligence, you know. I can read the poets and philosophers and talk about them wittily, but that is just the mind.
"Underneath, I am all emotion and instinct, and they are what rule my life. I can no more understand why there are some things that I must do than I can explain why the wind blows. I knew that I must come to London and try the life of a demirep, and I know now that I must see more of Lord St. Aubyn. I'm sorry." Her voice broke and she finished in a whisper, "I would be different if I could be."
Madeline felt the younger woman's unhappiness as sharply as if it was her own. She thought of Diana as the daughter she had always longed for, and knew the grief of all parents who wish to save their children from suffering.
Maddy sighed. Diana was vulnerable, but she was also strong, with her own deep wisdom. She had already survived grief and loss, and doubtless she could survive another unfortunate love affair. Most women had more than one broken heart in their past.
"I'm sorry, my dear, I'm trying to make you wise, when I failed so miserably at it myself. If you must, you must." She smiled, remembering how the Viscount St. Aubyn had reacted to Diana. "Sometimes men like St. Aubyn have fire under the ice. If any woman can find it, it will be you."