Page 3 of Tempting the Scarred Duke

Diana could not remove her hands from her face to look at him for fear of the condemnation she would see in his eyes. A moment later, a hand circled her arm and she was pulled forward. When she opened her eyes, she saw her father leading her out of the room, then out of the house altogether.

“You’ve ruined us! Why did you do it?” her father, Jacob, asked as he paced the drawing-room in their house in short quick steps an hour later, and her mother, Helen, was sobbing in a chair.

“I did not do anything,” Diana cried, “He was forcing himself on me. I rejected him.”

“Oh, did you?” Jacob stopped and gave her a cold stare. “Because that is not what I heard, Diana.”

“You will believe the words of others over your daughter’s?” she challenged, furiously wiping her tear-stained cheeks.

“Who is he?” her father demanded, ignoring her question. She hesitated because she did not know what her father would do if he got his name. “Who is he?” he demanded again with his voice raised.

“Baron Crawford,” she answered, trembling.

Her father cursed under his breath. “Did you know that he is betrothed?”

“No, I did not. I only made his acquaintance today.” She wrung her satin gloves in her hand.

“And you decided to seduce him just after meeting him?” Jacob accused, his face red with fury. Her mother sobbed harder.

“Why would you think that of me, Father?” She was unable to stop the tide of tears that besieged her eyes.

“Women often do vile things to snare men.” He was looking at her mother as he said that with the corners of his mouth turned down and his nose scrunched. He turned to Diana, and the tone of his voice chilled her bones. “You will leave for Kent tomorrow and stay with my sister, Margaret. And you will find a husband.”

Diana shook her head, her heart twisting painfully. “Please, do not send me away,” she implored, sinking from her chair to her knees. She barely knew her aunt, and her life in London was all she had ever known.

“No one in London will marry you now, and pray this scandal does not reach Kent.” Jacob did not wait for her to respond before he marched out of the room, his boots hammering against the parquet.

“I hope you are happy with the misfortune you have brought upon us,” her mother said at last, and Diana raised her head to look at her. The contempt she saw in her eyes should never appear in a mother’s eyes.

“Mother, please allow me to explain,” Diana begged.

“I will not hear any of your lies. You have disgraced us and made us regret birthing you.” Helen walked past her toward the door. Diana caught her skirt, but she slapped her hands away.

Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed. Never had she imagined something like this happening to her, and now she could be doomed to live the rest of her life as a disgraced spinster, unwanted even by her parents.

Diana had grown without her parents’ love because she should have been born male. Although she never expected them to comfort her during a time of misfortune, for they never did. she did not think they would ever send her away. Gathering herself and holding her sobs in until they turned into tiny hiccups, she rose from the floor and made her way out of the room and up the stairs to her bedchamber.

The first thing she saw on her bureau when she closed the door was a letter. She picked it up, her throat tightening when she saw James’ handwriting, and she moved to sit on her bed to open it.

My dearest Dee,

I wish you could have seen the smile your response bestowed upon my face, and felt the happiness that filled my heart. I was once an aimless wanderer, but the honor of knowing you has given my soul something to strive for. Before I come to London to see you, I wish to give you my full name. I am Matthew James St. Wulfstan and the Marquess of Ashford.

I now truly believe that we share a bond that I cannot ignore any longer, and if you will allow me, I wish to court you and, perhaps, offer you my—

Diana’s tears blinded her and she was unable to finish reading the letter. A gentleman without a title would not court her after tonight’s events, much less a marquess. Matthew must never learn of the scandal, and she must never write to him again.

She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes as her heart broke anew. If she had left the library as soon as that loathsome Baron Crawford walked in, she would have prevented her misfortune, and her wish to have Matthew court her would have been granted. She saw nothing but desolation in her future now.

Chapter 1

May 1814

Matthew stretched his neck and winced at the tightness he felt in the long scar that ran from the back of his left shoulder down to the middle where his ribs stopped. It was the result of a battle wound that had nearly changed the course of his existence.

“With this sort of stiffness you would think that I have been sitting for more than three hours,” he said to Glover, his valet of seven years. “I feel as though I am fifty years old instead of a mere thirty.”

Glover picked up the tea he had just poured for Matthew and came to set it down in front of him on his desk. “Would you like me to prepare more of the soothing oil for you, Your Grace?”

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