Page 78 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

James didn’t even try to hide his smile. Diana was so much more than that.

CHAPTER 21

Pricked Thumb

Diana told everyone she was ill. It was so much easier that way. Easier than explaining the state she was in now. How was she to justify why she was staring off into nothingness all day, why she couldn’t get but a few bites down, why she only wanted to be under the covers and sleep?

“Diana?” Selina’s voice carried through the door.

Diana closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her head. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, least of all her sister. It was her cruel prank that led her to this state.

“Go away, Selina,” Diana said with a fake cough. “I would hate for you to catch something.”

That was the same lie she told again and again. She heard her sister’s footsteps retreat.

Diana bit her lip for the millionth time to keep from crying. What she was crying about anyway?

“So, we had some fun, a mutually entertaining agreement, and you thought that you had any claim on me?”

His words echoed in her head.

Her stomach churned. She dug her nails into the pillows. She squeezed her eyes shut. But closing them only made it worse. Because then she could see him. All of him all at once. His smirk and the emotionless way he talked to her, the scorching kisses and the cold shoulder he gave her.

“Idiot!” she screamed into her pillows.

How could she have been such a fool? How could she allow herself to fall for a man like him? Because she knew that was what she had done. Slowly, jab to jab, witty comment to warm embraces, she fell for James Bolton.

She turned onto her side, curling in on herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her body as if that could hold her together. But she was breaking at the seams.

She should have stayed in the shadows. She should never have let herself get carried away. She would have her heart intact and her soul unfractured.

Diana knew she should hate him with all her heart. But instead, she missed him. Her throat constricted, and her chest ached. She couldn’t bear his absence, and the idea that she might not ever see him again made her crumble.

Damn you.

“I am happy to see you better,” Elizabeth said, looking at her.

Diana decided that if she didn’t want her brother to bring all of the doctors in England to cure her weird ailment, she had to get out of her room, eventually. And she didn’t want to worry and upset Elizabeth. So, it’d been a couple of days since she emerged, pretending that she had recovered.

“I do feel better, thank you,” Diana said with all the mirth she could summon. “What did I miss? Did you go to the Etherton musicale?”

They made small talk, and Diana was carrying her end of the conversation as well as she could. She admired herself for how well she was keeping it together. She was sure that slowly, she would mend the tear in her heart the way she picked up the embroidery she had abandoned. She even smiled at the sharp remarks Elizabeth had made on all the social events she had missed out on.

Yes, she would be fine, and time will heal all. She was beaten down before, and she would rise up again. And this time, there was no public humiliation, so for sure she would recover in private.

This, too, shall pass.

“Lord Crawford calling on Lady Diana,” the butler announced.

Diana’s heart stopped. Her hands stiffened, and blood ruined her embroidery. This couldn’t be. Her shuttered mind must be playing a cruel trick on her.

“Lord Crawford!” Elizabeth got up.

Diana was rooted to the spot, her eyes refusing to rise from her bloodied handiwork.

“Please come in,” Elizabeth continued.

With her back to the door, Diana didn’t dare turn around. If she didn’t, all this illusion would go away, for sure.

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