At the knock on the door, Tims exited and the household servants brought in a cup of tea and the bed warmer. In her nightgown, Diana sipped the honey-sweetened tea and pondered why her father had seemed suddenly so concerned about her. His interest in her seldom extended to her health. Had he a suitor for her in mind here at Holland House? Her ribcage contracted at the horrible thought and made her cough.
Grandmama turned at the door. “Into bed, Diana, before you become chilled.”
She watched as Diana obeyed, then left her.
Diana leaned back on the pillows and sighed. Was it safe to leave the house and try to find the men? If there was a chance to bring the murderous rogues to account, she would take the risk. She gripped the sheet. And the devil who had abducted Anne must also be found and thrown into Newgate Prison. However, it would be wise to give her grandmother a little time to settle into bed, just to be sure. The bed was delightfully warm, andher eyelids felt heavy. But at the thought of Lord Ballantine in danger, her sleepiness fled, and she threw back the covers.
Twenty minutes later, having dressed again, she crept down the stairs. It was too early for the poetry reading to have concluded. She was confident she wouldn’t run into her father as she hurried to the door. Outside, the wind had freshened, blowing the branches of the trees about. The thin muslin she wore offered little protection from the cold. She shivered, pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, and darted out into the night.
Head down, she hurried over the path that led between the trees, their branches swaying, a sliver of moon casting deep shadows. She slowed as she approached the tinkling fountain, the monument looming above, alert to any sound. Was that voices she heard carried on the wind?
Walking into a deep well of darkness, she banged up against a solid male body smelling of cigars and brandy.
Hands steadied her. A tall man, he drew her into where light fell from a brazier. “Lady Diana? Where are you off to in this weather?”
She looked up into the man’s face, half in shadow. His hair looked silvery, but he was unmistakably the Englishman. The one who spoke perfect French. Diana swallowed, suddenly fearful. “Sir, I don’t believe we have been introduced,” she said stiffly, feeling a warning shiver race up her spine.
He chuckled. “Viscount Montgomery, Lady Diana. I know your father, the duke, very well. May I be of service?”
“Oh, yes, thank you, my lord. I am annoyed with myself. I lost a pearl bracelet in the gardens somewhere near the pond today and went to look for it.” She pulled her shawl close. “But it’s too dark, and it’s a good deal cooler than I expected.”
“Allow me to help you look for it.”
“No, thank you. It’s a foolish idea. Grandmama would be so cross if she knew I was out here,” Diana said, relieved that her voice had steadied. She turned to walk back to where the towers and roofline of the enormous house stood outlined against the night sky, the lower stories throwing welcome warm lights into the gardens. She fought the urge to run.
“A sensible decision.” He offered her his arm. “Allow me to escort you.”
She took it reluctantly. As they neared the house, a large shape emerged out of the dark. Lord Ballantine. His stern face was revealed in the candlelight from the hall chandelier.
“Ah, Ballantine, out for a stroll?” asked Lord Montgomery. “I have discovered Lady Diana in search of a lost bracelet. But we have given up and return to the house.”
“I enjoy a walk in the night myself,” Ballantine said, failing to hide that irritated tone she recognized. “But it proves a little cool for my taste.”
She cast Ballantine a warning glance as a footman opened the door for her.
*
As Damian andMontgomery stood in the hall watching the slim form of Lady Diana climb the stairs to her bedchamber, Montgomery turned to address him. “Not an admirer of Byron’s poetry, Ballantine?”
“I am. But I found a pretty maid more alluring,” Damian said.
Montgomery’s icy-gray eyes widened, but his expression remained skeptical. “I must say I admire your fortitude. On such an unpleasant evening.”
“I found a comfortably furnished summerhouse beside the ornamental pond,” Damian said, having discovered it when carrying out surveillance of the property.
Montgomery chuckled. “An assignation so soon? You have done well. I shall keep the summerhouse in mind, should I be as fortunate.”
“One might ask what brought you out tonight.” Damian eyed the man he believed was not only a danger to him, but his country. He wanted to take him by the cravat and choke the truth out of him, but he had to bide his time.
“Merely the desire to blow away the cobwebs. Lord Holland’s gatherings can be unrelenting.” Montgomery bowed his head. “Good evening.”
After Montgomery had gone up to his chamber, Damian remained in the hall, watching for any gentlemen who might emerge from the dark. He removed a cheroot from his pocket but didn’t light it. Instead, he gazed up the stairs toward Lady Diana’s bedchamber. His warning had been ignored, which made him feel extremely frustrated.
“Lord Ballantine!”
Hearing his name whispered, he searched the floor above. Dash it all if the duke’s daughter didn’t appear from behind a column.
He shoved the cheroot into his pocket and ran up the stairs. “What the devil are you up to, minx?”