Diana the Huntress (17 page)

Diana looked up. His green gaze was unwavering, intent, hypnotic. She remembered the feel of his lips against her own. Her gaze fell to his mouth. ‘No, look up!’ he said.

Diana felt strange. The more she gazed into his eyes, the more light-headed she felt. Faces around her swirled away in a coloured mist.

‘By George,’ said the officer who was dancing with Ann. ‘It looks as if Dantrey has fallen at last. He can’t take his eyes off that fascinating-looking girl. She dances beautifully. Who is she?’

‘Diana Armitage,’ said Ann crossly, stumbling over the officer’s feet. ‘An odd girl. She hunts.’

‘Does she, by Jove!’

To Ann’s intense irritation the fact that Diana hunted seemed to increase her attraction in the officer’s eyes. This was what came of spending too much time with Mr Emberton. ‘Mama will never forgive me an I let Lord Dantrey get away,’ thought Ann. ‘If only this stupid waltz would end!’

But the Master of Ceremonies had told the band to play longer than usual. He felt it was a great social coup to not only have such a personage as Lord Dantrey present at this country assembly but to have him demonstrate to everybody present just how much he was enjoying himself.

‘You dance like an angel,’ said Lord Dantrey to
Diana, and Diana smiled dreamily up at him, held enchanted in a world of music and colour by the admiration in his eyes and the strong pressure of his hand on her waist.

When the final chord of the music sounded, she stood blinking up at him in the light. He took her arm to walk with her and found to his extreme irritation that Mr Jack Emberton was standing at his elbow.

‘Forgive me for not joining you sooner,’ said Mr Emberton with a proprietary air, ‘I was persuaded you would not dance because of your mourning state.’

‘I did not intend to,’ said Diana, ‘but Lord Dantrey was told by the Master of Ceremonies that it would not cause comment or offence if I did.’

‘In that case, let me beg the next dance.’ He laid a hand on her arm, the one that was not being held by Lord Dantrey. ‘It is time for supper, Emberton,’ said Lord Dantrey, ‘and since I have just finished dancing with Miss Diana, mine is the honour to take her in.’

‘I think Miss Carter is looking for you, my lord,’ said Mr Emberton. ‘I am sure she told me you had promised to take her into supper.’

‘You are mistaken,’ said Lord Dantrey. ‘You also have your hand on Miss Diana’s arm. Pray remove it immediately.’

Mr Emberton removed his hand, clenched his fists, and glared at Lord Dantrey who looked coldly back.

‘Emberton,’ said Lord Dantrey silkily, ‘do not force me to call you out.’

Jack Emberton turned on his heel and strode away.
Mrs Carter was looking daggers at him, obviously blaming him for monopolizing her daughter.

Ann was already being led into the supper room by her officer.

Emily Chesterton, Ann Carter’s recently acquired ‘best friend’ had heard the exchange between Mr Emberton and Lord Dantrey and was busy spreading a highly coloured account of how Lord Dantrey had challenged Mr Emberton to a duel. The news spread around the long tables of the supper room like wildfire. The county was proud of the social success of the Armitage girls and the guests were delighted that Diana appeared to be living up to the high standards of fatal female attraction already set by her elder sisters.

Lord Dantrey was amazed at the feelings that had been roused in him when Jack Emberton had laid his hand on Diana’s arm.

He did not like the way her large eyes kept straying in Mr Emberton’s direction.

‘You are not eating, Miss Diana,’ he said.

Mr Emberton smiled down the room at Diana who smiled back.

‘Your food, Miss Diana,’ said Lord Dantrey acidly. ‘I am persuaded a great strapping girl such as yourself must have a good appetite.’ Now why had he said that? He had meant to pay her a pretty compliment.

‘Excuse me, my lord,’ said Diana, ‘my thoughts were elsewhere.’

He would rather she had lashed out at him instead of meekly sitting there, obviously hoping the ordeal of dining with him would soon be over.

As for Diana, she found that the close proximity of Lord Dantrey was doing odd things to her body. She felt hot, then cold, and her hands had taken on a life of their own and trembled when she picked up her knife and fork. There was such a lot of food on her plate, she thought, staring down at a modest portion of meat and vegetables. It was considered good manners to put a little of everything on your plate on your fork, all at the same time – as Captain Gronow was to say later in his
Recollections
, one did all one’s compound cookery between one’s jaws – so Diana took a small piece of ham, a minuscule piece of chicken, a morsel of sausage, a tiny piece of cauliflower, a sliver of the inevitable boiled potato, raised it to her mouth and then put her fork back on her plate again, the food untasted.

‘You are not hungry, Miss Diana?’ asked Lord Dantrey.

‘I do wish you would not study me so closely,’ snapped Diana. ‘You are making me feel
uncomfortable
.’

‘Then I should bribe a gypsy to tell you that I am suitable company for you,’ said Lord Dantrey. ‘A glass of wine?’

‘No … I mean, yes.’ Wine might give her courage. She seized the glass clumsily and it tipped over, and the contents ran along the tablecloth, spreading out into a large red stain.

Diana grabbed her napkin and began to dab at it ineffectually. He signalled to a waiter to replace her glass and then took hold of her wrist.

The touch of his hand on her skin was like a shock from one of the new electric machines that people were so fond of playing with at parties.

She yelped as if he had burned her, jerked her hand away, and sent her plate of food cascading into his lap.

‘I-I am s-sorry,’ babbled Diana. Eyes were on her. She could feel them. Hundreds of mocking, curious eyes. Ann Carter’s silvery laugh sounded in her ears.

‘Pray do not be so upset.’ Lord Dantrey carefully removed all the food from his clothes, put it all neatly back on the plate, and handed the lot to the waiters who were bustling forward with fresh plates, napkins and glasses. Lord Dantrey requested a glass of soda water and, when it came, he sponged his waistcoat, working away neatly and deftly until every stain was removed.

Diana was red in the face and distressed little wisps of hair were beginning to descend about her face. Lord Dantrey sighed.

‘Miss Diana,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I am not an ogre. I may have used you roughly once, I may have treated you to an excess of civility, but I have no intention of doing so again. You are a beautiful and desirable woman. You ride like Diana the Huntress. You have nothing to fear from me. Do you
understand
?’

His eyes were upon her and she met his gaze with a troubled look. She saw only kindness and concern in his face and began to feel her hands stop trembling and her body relax.

She realized everyone in the room was talking and
eating and laughing and no one was looking in their direction.

‘Forgive me, Lord Dantrey,’ she said, taking a sip of wine. ‘I have always been clumsy. Ah, you should see my sisters, particularly Daphne.
She
never spills
anything
or drops anything. I am taller than my sisters and I have always felt an overgrown giant beside them.’

‘One day,’ said Lord Dantrey, ‘you will look in the glass and see yourself for the goddess you are. Then only a duke will be good enough for you.’

‘If you continue to compliment me in such a
warm
way,’ laughed Diana, ‘I will be persuaded that you are the rake you are said to be.’

‘That would never do. My rakish days are over. I am determined to settle down and get married.’

‘To Miss Carter?’

‘I have not made up my mind.’

‘Is it not a question of the lady making up her mind as well? Have you only to drop the handkerchief?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not in my case,’ said Diana boldly.

‘Nobody asked you.’

‘I did not mean
you
, my lord. I meant that I am not like to go rushing into any man’s arms simply because he does me the honour of proposing marriage.’

‘But you have obviously dreamed of the ideal husband. Who is he? – this dream figure.’

Diana had been drinking steadily. A warm glow from the wine plus a lack of fear of this formidable lord was making her feel elated. ‘He is tall,’ she said dreamily, ‘and he has black hair. He treats me as an
equal. We do everything together. We hunt, we fish, we ride, we …’

‘Make love?’

‘My lord!’

‘Forgive me. I could not help wondering whether the little matter of love ever entered your head.’

‘I do not think love so important as … as equality and … companionship.’

‘When you are telling lies, as you are doing now,’ he said, ‘your eyes cloud over and your lips become compressed.’

‘You do not understand. I do not expect you to understand. You are very much older than I, and people of your generation have such very old-fashioned ideas.’

‘I am
not
old, Miss Diana,’ said Lord Dantrey, irritated. ‘I am in the prime of life.’

‘Your hair is white.’

‘My hair is very fair as you well know, Miss Diana. Now what did I say to make you so unpleasant?’

‘You annoy me, my lord,’ said Diana candidly. She took a large mouthful of wine and smiled at him mistily. ‘I think that to be married to you would be to give up all freedom, all independence. I would barely see you. You would spend your time at prize fights, at clubs, and the cockpit, and I would be expected to sit at home and gossip and sew, and say, “Yes, Dantrey, no, Dantrey,” to all your requests. You would expect me to have a baby each year. By the time I reached your age, my lord, I should be old and worn out.’

His lips twitched. ‘The idea of wearing you out is rather exciting.’

‘Be serious. Think! You do not see yourself, after marriage, spending any amount of time in your wife’s company.’

‘Ah, but the Armitage girls are already legends. Your sisters’ husbands barely stray from home.’

‘My sisters are so very beautiful,’ said Diana
wistfully
.

‘You are fishing for compliments. I have already said that I find you beautiful.’

‘Lord Dantrey, compliments roll so easily from your tongue that I can only come to the conclusion you have had a great deal of practice.’

‘Oh, yes.’

Diana’s face fell ludicrously.

‘On the other hand, I meant what I said to
you
.’ He put his hand on his heart and leaned towards her. ‘I would that you would gaze at me as fixedly as you are gazing at your plate.’

She raised her eyes to his. She felt dizzy with the amount of wine she had drunk. In fact, she must have had too much to drink since his intent green and gold gaze was the only fixed point in a spinning room.

‘Diana,’ he said with a slight break in his voice. ‘You …’

‘Lord Dantrey!’ Mrs Carter stood behind them. ‘I am delighted to see you grace our little country affair.’

He rose to his feet. ‘May I present Miss Diana Armitage. Mrs Carter, Miss Armitage, Miss Armitage, Mrs Ca—’

‘We have met,’ said Mrs Carter, flashing a wintry
smile at Diana. ‘I am surprised to notice that your recent sad loss does not prevent you from dancing, Miss Armitage. You are young and have no one to guide you, so I suppose it is understandable that you do not realize one must observe the conventions in the country as much as in town.’

‘I obtained permission to ask Miss Armitage to dance,’ said Lord Dantrey, ‘from the Master of
Ceremonies
. Many of the local people wish Miss Armitage well and are happy to see her enjoying herself.’

Mrs Carter bit her lip in vexation. She had found that the ladies of the county’s initial jealousy of Diana’s seeming capture of Lord Dantrey had been quickly replaced by admiration. The local belles merely shrugged and said good-naturedly that no one had ever been a match for the Armitage girls.

She contented herself with a little bow by way of response and then turned back to Lord Dantrey, all flashing eyes and teeth. ‘My little Ann enjoyed her drive with you t’other day prodigiously.’

‘The pleasure was all mine, I assure you, Mrs Carter.’

‘I must send you a card. I have quite a little salon. We have cards and music.’

‘Unfortunately, my duties keep me at home, Mrs Carter.’

‘Ah, we will see if Ann cannot persuade you otherwise.’ Mrs Carter made an urgent beckoning motion with her hand behind her back and Ann came up on the arm of her officer.

Ann edged in against the table so that she was standing with her back to Diana and facing Lord
Dantrey. Lord Dantrey should have noticed this piece of rudeness, should have commented on it, thought Diana, but he was smiling down at Ann with a caressing look in his eyes. People were going back into the ballroom and the supper room was nearly empty. Diana saw Mr Emberton standing at the end of the room, watching her.

She slid out of her seat and went up to him, not aware that Lord Dantrey had stiffened, not aware that gentleman was watching her every move over the top of Ann’s golden head.

Mr Emberton decided the best policy was to avoid all mention of Lord Dantrey’s name. He now realized he had little hope of attracting Ann Carter, not with Lord Dantrey and her ambitious mother around. He knew Ann was already regretting spending so much time with him. So back to plan one – Diana Armitage.

‘You are in looks tonight, Miss Diana,’ he said with that cheerful manner of his which never failed to put her at ease. ‘Now that I have you to myself, may I beg the next dance?’

Diana smiled at him brilliantly. What a contrast he was to Lord Dantrey! And who cared about Lord Dantrey anyway? Let him flirt and flatter silly misses like Ann Carter. She was welcome to him.

But somehow Diana found she could not dance with Mr Emberton. That magic which had guided her steps through the waltz had mysteriously disappeared and her old clumsiness had returned.

‘I am a dreadful dancer, Mr Emberton,’ she said ruefully. ‘Pray let us sit down for a little. I would like
something to drink. I am so very thirsty. A glass of lemonade would be very welcome.’