She had given him a chance. He denied nothing.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, but Diana blinked them away. When she’d first overheard other gentlemen speaking of Somerton’s intended plans, she’d been so angry that there hadn’t been time for tears. In the aftermath, she’d cried daily for nearly a fortnight. “When asked, you never denied that you were a rakehell and toying with my affections.”

  “You didn’t give me a bloody chance. I was too shocked at your accusation to reply.”

  “You nearly ruined me.” Though, what had truly hurt her the most was something that she’d never speak of to anyone, ever—that he’d bedded her mother while pretending to court her. That is what had truly broken her heart.

  The corner of his mouth quirked as his eyes darkened. “Nearly. Not completely.”

  “Thank Heavens for that! Had I known what you were truly about, I would never have allowed you to take me down the dark walk at Vauxhall. I would have never so much as allowed a stolen kiss.”

  Just remembering that night caused her face to flame.

  “Vauxhall is one of my fondest memories.” He grinned. “Certainly more exciting than strolls through Hyde Park, ices at Günter’s, dancing at balls, stolen kisses in gardens…”

  With each step Somerton took in her direction, Diana stepped back. She could not let him come any closer. Even in her anger and heartache, she was also quite aware of her vulnerability, as she’d fallen quite deeply for the cad.

  “I thought your courtship was of honorable intentions,” she accused.

  He stopped and frowned. “Why do you think it was not? Because of stolen kisses in the dark?”

  “We shared far more than a few kisses as you know.” He’d been quite skilled in his caresses.

  “As I recall, you found my touch quite pleasurable.”

  Her face was about to go up in flames. Pleasurable was too tame of a word for what she’d experienced, but that wasn’t the point of this conversation and she needed to put those memories from her mind.

  “Was I a game to you? Pressing for what you could gain?”

  “Why do you believe I played a game?” he demanded.

  “Perhaps it was only your intention to continue until the end of the Season and then we’d go our own separate ways and you’d find another innocent to have your fun with the following year.”

  Somerton blinked at her, his eyes growing hard. “I was not toying with your affections. I’d never stoop so low. Furthermore, I resent having my honor called into question.”

  “You certainly were not considering me for marriage.”

  “Who put these ideas into your mind?” he demanded in anger, nearly taking her aback.

  For a moment she considered that perhaps she’d been wrong, but the fact that his response was a counter question convinced Diana that she’d been no more than a distraction for the Season and his courtship, kisses, and caresses meant nothing more to him than a casual dalliance.

  “You did.”

  “Me?” he cried in outrage.

  “Have you or have you not claimed that ‘if Noah could become a father at the age of five hundred, then I can surely wait to begin producing offspring until age forty’?”

  At least he had the good sense to grimace. “It’s true. I’ve said as much.”

  “Then I see no further need for any association between us to continue.” She turned and walked away. “Enjoy your next thirteen years as a bachelor, Lord Somerton. Though it will soon be twelve.”

  Chapter 4

  “Blast it all.” James sank back down on the well. More bricks crumbled and he jumped away before he fell again. Diana wasn’t there to save him and even if she were, he doubted that she’d lend him a hand a second time.

  Who had spoken out of turn to Diana?

  It didn’t really matter, he supposed. At least now he understood her hatred for him. Further, he couldn’t blame Diana, given what they’d shared in Vauxhall. All he could assume was that she’d been told at the Hearne ball because Vauxhall had only been the night before.

  Though, she could have at least asked if those were his intentions before she slapped him.

  Except, she had asked, no, demanded to know if he'd been toying with her affection with no intention of marrying and he'd not answered her. Worse, he hadn't denied her accusations.

  However, she should have known better, and perhaps what angered him most was that she so quickly believed what she’d been told, even if it were the truth. But she should have trusted him. Shouldn’t he have earned her trust after the weeks he’d spent courting her? Further, it hurt that she so quickly dismissed him. As if she’d never really cared at all. Perhaps she was the one who had been toying with his affections.

  A cold hand swiped across his face leaving behind an icy sting as Lady Isolda materialized before him, hand raised and looking quite irate.

  “Did you really utter such rubbish?”

  “Aye,” he admitted.

  Worse, he’d said those words so many times that he’d lost count, but they’d always been said in the company of gentlemen in places like Whites. And, until Miss Diana Vail walked into the Bentley ball last March, he’d been adamant that nothing would change.

  She’d been breathtaking with her golden hair, wayward curls caressing her neck and temples, the pale green, nearly white gown, hugging her form, emphasizing her full breasts. Breasts he’d longed to caress and feel the weight of in his hands and he’d finally gotten the opportunity that night in Vauxhall.

  James was amazed that she’d not gained his notice before. Had he been bloody blind during the previous four years?

  In their moments of passion, James had known that the plans he’d set were no longer. He wanted Diana and the only way he could have more was if they married. He’d also faced a truth he’d done his damnedest to deny—he was in love. It had come as such a shock that he could barely speak.

  After he’d returned home from Vauxhall, James had argued with himself that what he was experiencing was no more than lust and desire. Certainly not love. But no matter how much he had denied the emotion or how much brandy he’d drunk to numb his heart, James had to face the fact that he did not have another thirteen years of freedom. And as he became used to the idea, accepted the inevitable, he fell asleep, happy with his lot in life as he’d be sharing it with Diana.

  He remembered the day of the Hearne ball and that evening as if it had happened yesterday. He’d been nervous as he was about to do something, he never thought he’d do—confess all that was in his heart. But before he could utter a word, she first insulted, then dismissed him. Had he known then what he knew now, he’d have insisted that she listen to him. He would have explained that she, and only she, had altered those blasted plans, but Diana hadn’t given him the opportunity.

  Until now, he’d lied to himself that it was for the best and he wasn’t meant to marry until he was nine and thirty, when in truth, her rejection had not only stunned but hurt him deeply.

  “Well, then.” Lady Isolda brushed her hands together. “We’ll just see what can be done to fix the pickle you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “Pickle?” James asked.

  “Yes, pickle. Men, for the most part, often blunder matters of the heart.” She brought a hand to his cheek and James tried not to shiver at the icy touch.

  “It is not only my quest but an honor to help you achieve the greatest of what we all crave—true love.”

  A sense of foreboding filled him. “I am certain that I do not need your assistance.” Besides, if Diana had so little faith in him, why should he bother to pursue her? Hearts heal, after all.

  “Oh, Lord Somerton, I’m afraid you do,” Lady Isolda insisted as she disappeared, leaving only the sting of cold against his cheek as evidence that she’d been there.

  “Miss Vail, wait,” Sir Orwen called.

  She wasn’t waiting. She wanted to be home and blessedly free of Somerton.

  “The pain in your heart is great, Miss Vail, but you must allow it to heal,” Sir Gilbert insisted.

  Diana snorted. It was healed, or she’d once thought it was.

  As she reached the main path, she first looked back toward the gardens and knew she couldn’t return to the gathering. She didn’t have the strength to pretend to be happy and force enjoyment of the festivities. Besides, Somerton would return, and she didn’t want to chance encountering him again. Worse, she feared that he’d want to further discuss what had happened. She would never, ever discuss what pained her the most. Not only wasn’t it proper to do so, but such a conversation would bring further mortification and she’d had quite enough already.

  Having grown up in the area, Diana knew all the paths to and from Keyvnor Castle and took the one most secluded to return home to Hollybrook Park.

  “He loves you,” Sir Gilbert insisted.

  Diana snorted. “He loves no one but himself, and perhaps his nieces.”

  “No. He loves you,” Sir Gilbert continued.

  The knight was a romantic, nauseatingly so, and would see love in the eyes of a snake. Given the fact that Sir Orwen, the more pragmatic of the two, remained silent, she was assured that no love for her lingered in Somerton’s heart.

  “Don’t be so quick to dismiss or assume,” Sir Orwen said thoughtfully.

  Diana rolled her eyes. “Not you too.”

  “There is something most definitely there.”

  “Desire and passion perhaps, but certainly not love.”

  To think she’d allowed his kisses and caresses. And even though Somerton never spoke of an affection, he’d courted her almost from the beginning of the Season. They danced at every ball, took drives, and so many things that courting couples did that she’d assumed…

  Hot tears stung her eyes. That was what she got for assuming anything.

  He may not have ruined her, though it was a close thing, Somerton had ruined her heart for anyone else. Not that she didn’t have the capacity to love, Diana just wasn’t certain she’d ever trust enough to love again.

  “Do not leave!” Sir Gilbert cried as she neared the border between Keyvnor and Hollybrook. “I am certain something can be worked out.”

  Diana was just as certain it would be impossible.

  “Let her go,” Sir Orwen said. “Give Miss Vail a bit of peace and a chance to recover. We’ll work on matters here.”

  Diana had no idea what he meant, but there was nothing to work on and she wasn’t even certain if she would be returning to Keyvnor. At least not while Somerton was a guest.

  Chapter 5

  “You are coming with me,” Faye announced as she marched into the sitting room, pulling on her gloves.

  James blinked at his younger sister. He had no intention of going anywhere. “The Hamblys have entertainments planned for this afternoon.”

  “Which is hours away,” Faye reminded him. “I need an escort into the village. Mother said I couldn’t go unless you accompanied me.”

  “Me?” he objected. “What of Benedict?” His younger brother was better suited for a jaunt into Bocka Morrow.

  “Benedict isn’t the one who needs a distraction,” Faye announced. “You’ve been hiding and brooding since yesterday afternoon. You behave as if you’ve lost your best friend.”

  In truth, that is exactly how he felt. It hurt when Diana broke from him before, but after a time, James had managed, for the most part, to push the pain aside and went so far as to convince himself that it had only been desire that ruled his heart.

  “James?” Faye questioned.

  “It’s nothing,” he finally dismissed. The pain he had hidden from himself had returned yesterday, but today he was angry and not good company for anyone.

  “It’s not nothing,” Faye argued. “Does this have anything to do with Miss Vail?”

  James’ eyes snapped to her. “What do you know of Miss Vail?”

  “You did run away and hide as soon as she arrived.” Faye snorted. “I know that you were courting her last spring, and I had hoped that you’d finally put that silly notion of not marrying until you were nine and thirty behind you.”

  “I may not marry even then,” he grumbled and took a drink of his brandy. “And, I didn’t run away.” He’d only been trying to escape a ghost.

  “Well, that’s not how it looked to me.” She smirked. “Now come along. I’d like to be back before the afternoon entertainments begin.”

  James studied her and then pulled himself from the sofa, setting the brandy aside.

  Faye eyed it. “For one who is not bothered by the presence of Miss Vail, you are drinking spirits rather early in the day, aren’t you?”

  James narrowed his eyes on her. “If you are going to persist in speaking of Miss Vail, you can find someone else to accompany you into the village.”

  “Oh, very well. Be miserable. It matters little to me.”

  “Be certain to stop by the apothecary,” Lady Isolda said as she appeared beside the waiting carriage.

  Blast it all. Now he had two meddlesome women to deal with.

  “Why do you need to visit Bocka Morrow?” James asked as they settled into the carriage.

  “I wish to visit the apothecary,” Faye answered.

  James reached for the door to the carriage. Were Faye and Lady Isolda working together to upend his life? “Why?”

  “They carry the most delightful, fragrant soaps. The ones I purchased at Christmas are gone and I wish for more.”

  He let his hand drop back to the seat. It was an innocent enough reason and James did recall his sister going on and on about those delightful little soaps. “As long as that is all.”

  She blinked at him, her face masked in innocence. “What else would there be?”

  His sister was up to something though he doubted Faye was working in concert with a ghost. Just the same, he’d remain wary.

  “Did you know that The Hourglass is rumored to be owned by a witch?” Faye announced as the carriage pulled onto the road.

  “What is The Hourglass?” Though he was quite certain he didn’t care.

  “The apothecary,” Faye answered, as if he should have known.

  James narrowed his eyes on his sister. “Tell me that we are not visiting because of a witch.”

  She blinked again.

  “What are you planning, Faye?”

  “I simply wish to purchase soap. Though you might wish for something else.”

  “What could I possibly want from a witch?” He certainly didn’t need her assistance. Besides, a ghost had already inserted herself into his life, and that was more than enough for any gentleman.

  “A love spell.” Faye grinned. “Then you could win Miss Vail’s heart.”

  James massaged his forehead to relieve the growing tension. Maybe he was surrounded by bedlamites after all. “I’m not going to trick Miss Vail into loving me.”

  Not so long ago he had been certain of Diana’s love. She’d not uttered the words, but it was evidenced in their conversations, dances, stolen kisses, a shared passion… He’d been confident that if he’d asked for her hand Diana would have accepted.

  In retrospect, having given the matter a good deal of thought, thoughts that had kept him awake most of last night, James had concluded that perhaps she hadn’t loved him at all. If Diana had, she wouldn’t have rejected him so quickly based on rumors or gossip. It didn’t matter that the statement was something he’d said a hundred times, the fact was that she’d heard it, accepted it, then condemned him without once asking him to even explain. That was proof she didn’t trust him, let alone love him. She should have come to him with her concerns, not accusations.

  Perhaps that is what angered and hurt him most. She hadn’t trusted him enough to come to him with her concerns. And even though James’ heart still longed for hers, he would not give it again until he was certain of hers, if he was ever certain.

  “Come now, James, I’m only teasing you. We both know none of this Cornish lore nonsense is real anyway.”

  “Maybe not a love spell,” he muttered. “But maybe something that would cause her to at least remain long enough for me to explain...”

  “You don’t really believe in all this, do you?” she asked in surprise.

  Actually, he was surprised that Faye had mentioned the witch in the first place, since she never believed in such nonsense, as she’d put it.

  James studied his sister. “Why is this so important to you?”

  “Can’t you just talk to her? I worry about you relying on a magic spell to solve your problems with Miss Vail.”

  Faye was the one who mentioned a spell. It hadn’t even occurred to him before, and James still wasn’t certain he believed in witches or spells of any of that.

  “I’ve one brother who is unhappy, miserable even, and I don’t wish to have another living in such a state. You’re only setting yourself up for disappointment if you put stock in these supposed witches.”

  “I’m not the one who mentioned witches in the first place,” his voice rose. “And you are the one who insists on visiting the apothecary, need I remind you.”

  “You mentioned something to make her stay.”

  “Let it go, Faye, I’ve no intention of seeking help from a supposed witch. It was simply wishful thinking.” He glanced out the window. “Perhaps you should worry about Benedict instead.” If anyone needed a keeper, it was his younger brother.

  Faye snorted. “Benedict isn’t my concern, but you and Markham. He needs to start living again, and you need to get Miss Vail back.”

  “Markham is living,” James assured her of their older brother, to which Faye snorted again.

  “He does what he needs for his estate and daughters, but a part of him died right along with his wife. You know that as well as I.”

  Reluctantly, James had to admit that his sister was correct. Yet, he didn’t see Markham falling in love with anyone else and he would most likely remain unattached for the rest of his days.