Page 69 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

She took a sip of her tea, trying to gather her thoughts. Because right now, she was having a hard time focusing. Between trying to assess the situation and hearing his father speak of intensity…

Sure, James was intense, relentless, dominating, powerful. She had a front-row seat to all of it, his hands commanding, his breath on her skin making her lose all thought.

Yes, overwhelming might be an understatement. But that was information she wouldn’t divulge to his father even on her deathbed.

“I agree that some would call it overwhelming. But others might call it conviction.” She tilted her head.

Solomon’s face lit up. Perhaps he was expecting some long list of complaints about the time she had spent with James. But she was averysatisfied participant.

“And how wouldyoucall it, Lady Diana?”

“I find it refreshing that Lord Crawford is unapologetically himself. If he is angry, he displays his distaste. If he is entertained, he laughs with his whole body. He doesn’t really care what others think of him simply because he knows very well who he is.”

Diana realized that she got carried away and talked too much about James—longer than a lady who was supposedly just promenading with him. But Solomon looked out the window in a thoughtful way.

“Yes. He was always like that.”

Diana glanced at him, sensing the weight of his words. He was not speaking about the James the world knew. The same man she thought she met at her sister’s auction. The rake, the charmer, the man who played games with his reputation and everyone else’s expectations.

No, this was something deeper.

“And yet,” Solomon continued, his tone thoughtful, “it is a difficult thing to sustain, always being at war with the world.”

Diana’s breath hitched. Solomon studied her face, and an understanding passed between them.

There was more to James’s unforgiving persona. Diana had started to notice that beneath the charm and the wicked smiles and the shameless flirtation, James never let his guard down.

Except perhaps…

“I was surprised to find out that he was captain of Pop.” Diana dispelled the heavy atmosphere.

Solomon smiled and was ready to say something when an elderly woman entered the room.

“Solomon!”

She had an air of practiced grace about her. Her back was straight, and her stride was steady. Diana recognized immediately that clever glint that James had.

So, this is the woman who created that perfect gorgeous, insufferable monster?

Diana rose instinctively and bobbed a curtsy. Solomon rose, too, with a warm smile on his lips. There was love in this vast house. It was sad that an unfortunate death kept it from blooming. She, too, had experienced loss. She knew how crippling it could be.

“Lady Diana, may I present my mother, the Dowager Duchess of Pemberton,” Solomon said.

“Nonsense.” The elderly lady waved a dismissive hand. “I insist that you call me Euphemia, please. I am way too old, and I’d rather finish a conversation without all these formalities that make it last twice as long.”

“A pleasure, Your?—”

A raised eyebrow from Euphemia made Diana chuckle.

“A pleasure, Euphemia.”

“Perfect.” Euphemia sat down beside her, and Solomon handed her a cup of tea. “You must be none other than Lady Diana. You are much more pretty than the rumors say.”

“Most kind of you.”

“So, you are the one my grandson trapped into five promenades with his insufferable self.”

Ooh, she is good.

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