Page 8 of An Earl Unmasked
He released his hold on her and took a step back. “I was responsible for the lives of many.” With the book held tightly in both hands behind his back, Lord Chestwick began to pace the width of the doorway. “My papa wrote to me. He disclaimed the severity of the surgeon’s assertions.” Confusion and pain flickered in Lord Chestwick’s eyes.
Diana stepped in front of him and placed a hand upon his upper arm. “Of course, he did. Your papa didn’t want to add to your burden.” She guided the distracted Lord Chestwick back over to the settee.
Guilt and sorrow weighed heavily in her chest. Weak-kneed, she sank down to sit and adjusted her skirts. “You truly didn’t know how dire his health was. I apologize.” She patted the empty spot next to her. Absently, Lord Chestwick offered her the book and squeezed into the space she had invited him to occupy.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his knees. “I should have suspected…”
Uncertain of how to provide comfort to the man she had only met a few hours prior, Diana drummed her fingers over the volume that kept her leg from bobbing up and down from nerves.
Lord Chestwick raised his head to gaze out the windows. “The sun shall be setting soon—won’t your family be looking for you?”
“Mayhap.” Diana wasn’t ready to leave. She wanted to console the man that she had falsely accused of being a heartless son. If she engaged his help to solve his papa’s last puzzle, would it assist him with closure? She flipped the book open. “Minerva will know to come here first if I’m needed.” Diana retrieved the missive once more from her bodice and studied it closely.
Lord Chestwick shook his bowed head. “You have no intentions of leaving, do you?”
“Not until I retrieve my prize.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “If you have the correct volume, I suggest you turn to page sixty-nine.”
She glanced at her host, who rolled his eyes heavenward and muttered something under his breath. “Are you certain? The clue states—Two numerals combined create three objects.”
“Trust me.”
She did trust him. But why she did was still befuddling. “Very well.”
Diana fanned the pages until she found the numeral sixty-nine and laid the book out flat over her lap. Lord Chestwick reached for the book. His forearm brushed her chest, sending sparks throughout her entire body. She remained still, analyzing her body’s reaction to the unintentional caress.
With one half of the volume on her lap and the other half on his, Lord Chestwick peered at the content of the page. He appeared unaffected by the intimate touch. How infuriating.
His gaze shifted to the slip of parchment in her hand. “May I?”
“Of course.” Diana grazed the side of her breast against his out-stretched hand as she handed him the clues.
Lord Chestwick’s breath hitched, and his gaze dipped to the décolleté of her dress. A thrill ran down her spine with the knowledge she, too, could evoke a reaction from the man. He wasn’t as oblivious as he portrayed himself to be.
Grinning, Diana asked, “What three objects do you suppose we are searching for?”
He blinked twice before saying. “This was a terrible idea.” He glanced up to look out the windows, where the last rays of sunlight were quickly disappearing.
He growled, “I shall summon the carriage.” He stood, and his gaze drifted to the tops of her breasts once again. “You are not to return uninvited. Am I clear?”
“Aye. In the future, I shall simply await your invitation…” She gave him a broad smile. “That is to resume my pursuit of the poem, of course.” She returned her attention to the book before her and made no effort to leave.
Lord Chestwick’s brow knitted into a deep frown. He was no doubt accustomed to soldiers obeying his every command without question. However, Diana was not one of his men, and by denying her access to the library, the man had declared a different type of war…one Diana was set on winning.
Chapter Five
Infuriating woman. Randalran a hand through his hair and stomped out of the library. He needed to put distance between himself and the lovely Diana. A scurry of footsteps preceded him, and the front door was flung open. Stepping outdoors, Randal halted two steps past the threshold, and he bent at the waist. He inhaled deeply, seeking to calm his rioting emotions as he rested his hands on his knees.
Maintaining control had never been an issue in the past. A strength that had served him well in the war. Yet thirty minutes in the presence of Lady Diana, and he had lost all semblance of logic and propriety. He straightened to his full height. It shouldn’t have been a struggle to release the woman. His lips curled at the corners. It had taken every ounce of self-discipline to rein in his instinctual reaction to kiss the brazen woman who dared to touch his ear.
The prickle along the back of his neck was a familiar feeling he’d experienced many a time over the years. Wiped of energy, he scanned the grounds. There was danger lurking close by. Randal raised his hand to touch the increasing lump on his forehead. Had he been attacked, or had the dizzy spells returned?
Randal turned to go inside and do battle once more with the woman who endangered his sanity. Lady Diana was the first person to ever challenge him the way she had. All too often, people were more than happy to relinquish control and their responsibilities over to Randal. Her rebuff injured his ego more than he cared to admit. With one hand on the library door handle, Randal closed his eyes and visualized the missive his papa had neatly penned.
An image of the tops of Lady’s Diana’s soft, voluptuous bosom edged out his thoughts of the ridiculous riddle his papa had devised. Each clue had references his papa had drawn upon when the old man, long ago, attempted to explain to Randal how a child was conceived and how a gentleman prevented such a happenstance. More befuddling was why Lady Diana would forgo marriage to solve such nonsense?
Randal pushed the door open ready to begin his interrogation and obtain the answers he sought. All queries fled his mind as he entered the library to find Lady Diana dangling once again from the ladder. The tips of her fingers slipped off the wooden rung. Even with his long strides, he was too far to reach her in time before she hit the floor. He’d watched men fall to their death, but the sight of Lady Diana tumbling through the air had him holding his breath as she landed awkwardly on one foot and fell back, her head hitting the padded arm of the settee.
