Page 13 of Enslaved
“Please don’t pretend ignorance of the Hardwicks, Diana. You are far too intelligent to play the lack-wit.”
“I honestly didn’t connect the two gentlemen. I hadn’t the vaguest notion Peter Hardwick was related to the earl.”
“That is the sole reason I consider young Hardwick an eligibleparti.It was he who informed the earl about the library.”
At that precise moment Peter Hardwick rang the front doorbell. “Oh lord, what will I do?” Diana said, half under her breath.
“Consider yourself one of the most fortunate young ladies in London since he has chosen to overlook your lack of breeding and honor the invitation.”
A half hour later, Diana found herself seated next to Peter Hardwick enjoying the fresh air of a beautiful London day.
The blooded pair harnessed to the perch phaeton were impressive animals. Diana made polite small talk as Peter tooled the horses the short distance to Hyde Park. She wondered what he was thinking and what his brother had said about her.
Peter Hardwick, in point of fact, was thinking what a lucky bastard he was. Not only had Diana Davenport exquisite beauty, but she had a yearly income of twenty thousand pounds. TheVultures,as he called Richard and Prudence, had only offered him half but he had shrewdly negotiated his cut up to sixty percent, and before he was done, he’d have at least fifteen thousand per annum. Then once he got the ring on Diana’s finger, there was nothing to prevent him from dipping into the principal. His eyes ran over her profile with appreciation; what a prize she was.
Diana, feeling his eyes upon her, could bear the tension no longer. She took a deep breath and turned toward him. “I’m afraid I have a confession to make.”
His mouth curved good-naturedly, giving the impression he could be indulgent with a woman.
“I attended the masquerade at the Pantheon last night,” she said breathlessly. When her companion didn’t seem outraged, she continued, “Your brother mistook me for a cyprian because I wasn’t properly chaperoned and I’m afraid I threw champagne in his face.”
Peter threw back his head and laughed aloud at the picture she painted.
Encouraged, Diana told him the second part. “I have to be perfectly frank, Peter—I’m afraid your brother must hate me. When he turned up in my library this morning trying to buy it, I flew at him in a temper.”
“I imagine you are very beautiful when angered.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Aren’t you outraged?”
“There are times when I find my dear brother almost loathsome. We have little in common. He has a passion for archaelogy. His inclination to ruins has given him a taste for older women. I’m surprised you captured his interest.”He certainly captured mine,Diana admitted to herself. Why didn’t his young brother arouse any feeling inside her?
Diana laughed in spite of herself. Their conversation was most unconventional to say the least. “Well, I thwarted his intent to buy my father’s collection, so I’m certain he considers me much worse than loathsome.”
“That’s a relief. His competition for your attention would be formidable, as he is an earl of the realm.”
“I don’t care about titles!”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Whatdoyou care about?”
She cared about books, passionately. She would even like to try her hand at writing history, from a woman’s point of view, but she had more sense than to tell a gentleman such an eccentric thing. Diana opened her parasol, trying to decide if she should scramble back on to polite ground as befitted a young lady of the ton, or to answer his question honestly. She decided upon the latter. She had certainly not set her cap for this man, and if he found her conversation unconventional, she didn’t give a tinker’s damn! “I care most about freedom—freedom of choice. I find I have very little freedom now in dress, speech, action, or even thought because I am young and because I am female. I realize I will become older, but I shall remain a woman forever.”
“Heaven be praised,” he teased, allowing his eyes to boldly assess her delicious breasts. “You’d prefer being a man?”
“Of course not! I want to be a woman with freedom. Only think for a moment: in Georgian society a young lady is passed from her father to either a guardian or a husband and chaperoned every waking moment. Prudence would be in the phaeton with us if it held more than two, but the code is so restrictive I may only ride with you around and around the Serpentine, where there are at least a thousand eyes upon us and hundreds of wagging tongues ready to carry tales if I do not conform.”
“Would you like to go somewhere more private?” Peter suggested hopefully.
“No, I would not. You are missing the point, deliberately I might add,” Diana said with amusement.
“I’m sorry. I really am listening.”
“Celtic women had great freedom. They chose whom they married and were allowed to retain their own wealth and property. A few even became chiefs of tribes. Medieval women were in charge of castles and the entiredemesnewhen their men went to war or on crusade for years. Modern ladies are treated as if they have no desires, no opinions, and no brains, while gentlemen are encouraged to achieve, to enjoy, to travel the world, to engage in sports, and do it all with neck-or-nothing enthusiasm!”
“I hereby promise that when you are with me I shall allow you every freedom.”
Diana sighed. He was a typical male, thinking he couldallowher freedom.
“Will you allow me to escort you to the Richmonds’ ball tomorrow evening?”
