Page 9 of Tempting the Scarred Duke

“No, I have not,” Diana denied. “I returned to the carriage for I was feeling unwell.”

Florence climbed in. “How unfortunate for you. I was introduced to the duke.”

“Oh, yes,” Margaret followed, “and I think he was impressed by Florence.”

“We danced, you see,” Florence said, giggling and fanning herself. “Though he was quite inquisitive, I must say.”

Diana forced her expression to remain impassive.

“He must have been interested in you, dear. I would not be surprised if he calls upon us,” her aunt said. “Oh, imagine Florence courting a duke!”

“My friends would be positively envious,” Florence smirked as the carriage began to move. “I think even Diana would be jealous.”

“I have no cause to be jealous of you, dear cousin,” Diana returned. She did not want to believe that Matthew was impressed by Florence, but then she flinched inwardly remembering how she may have accidentally implied her cousin was ‘Dee’ after saying she had stolen the phrase from her. He could be interested in Florence if he thought she was Dee.

Her lies may have led Florence into Matthew’s arms, and that was certainly not what she had intended to happen. Her aunt and cousin might not be very clever but they were cunning, and they would stop at nothing to trap a duke.

“Could you repeat that, Glover?” Matthew asked. He was seeing blue, midnight blue, everywhere he looked, and he was unable to think of anything besides Diana and the possibility of Florence Dervin being Dee.

He had returned to the ballroom yesterday, eager to dance with Diana but she was not there. Then Lady Dervin came and mentioned that her daughter was well accomplished in music and painting, and recalling that Dee was fond of music and painting, Matthew had asked Florence to dance with him.

The dance was a cotillion, and he did not get the chance to properly converse with Florence and ask her if she was Dee. Although she smiled pleasantly at him every time their eyes met, he did not feel the excitement he had felt when he was near Diana. He had simply attributed it to being overwhelmed with the possibility of her being the woman he had been searching for.

Now, he thought there was a greater chance of Diana being Dee than Florence. She had fled the ballroom when she saw him and had refused to return to it after he had asked to dance with her. Her behavior suggested she was hiding something, and he wanted to know what her secret was.

But Florence Dervin was the inventor of that endearing phrase he now found all the more frustrating. Or perhaps neither was Dee and he was just grasping at anything to reinvigorate his now tedious life—

“Your Grace?” Glover’s voice interrupted him and he looked up from the newspaper in his hands.

“I apologize, Glover. Please repeat what you said.”

“I was asking how you are feeling this morning,” Glover said, his dark eyes concerned.

“I am well, Glover. The oil is helping me sleep better.” Matthew was eating breakfast in his chambers as he did every morning. He rarely ate in the morning room, even when his father had been living and breathing.

Glover smiled. “I am glad, my lord.”

Matthew began to reach for his fork but his hand knocked down the teacup that had been sitting too close to the edge of the table. It fell to the floor and the sound of it shattering as it hit the parquet sent his heart racing. He immediately clutched his head and closed his eyes as a deafening ringing began in his ears.

His chest constricted and a sense of doom surrounded him. Suddenly, he was no longer in his sitting room. He was on the battlefield again, fighting to survive, fighting to save a life that was very dear to him as explosions came from every direction. Matthew trembled and groaned, pleading for the nightmare to vanish, pleading to have some peace of mind.

A gentle hand was laid on his back and his name was called. The familiarity of the voice was like a rope being cast at a drowning man, and Matthew desperately followed it out of the darkness.

“You are home now, Matthew,” Glover said gently. “You are safe.”

He opened his eyes, his breathing labored, and he realized he had slipped into a moment of panic, which often happened when a loud sound came. Matthew had had several such episodes but Glover had always been able to calm him, and it was the only time he ever called Matthew by his Christian name even though they regarded one another more as friends than employers and subordinates.

“I…am fine,” Matthew muttered, his heart still pounding, but the terror he had felt was gone, fortunately.

Glover poured some wine into a glass and handed it to him. Matthew gulped it down and sighed, closing his eyes and summoning good memories to aid him in finding solace. Dee’s name and Diana’s lovely face came to mind. The softness of her body and how she had eagerly returned his kiss awakened his need, and his blood surged, while his body heated.

Diana? Florence Dervin? Were either of them even Dee? Or were they playing tricks on him?

“I shall call upon the Dervin residence this afternoon,” he said to Glover as soon as he made the decision. “Send word to them, please.” He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Chapter 5

Diana found Florence in the drawing-room after breakfast, wincing at the discordant sound that was coming from the pianoforte. After much thought about the events of the night before, she had decided to ask her cousin to become Dee if Matthew ever called.

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