"I, well, I don't think, that is to say, I hadn't intended to go," Diana began doubtfully, "but..." 259
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"Do join me," he urged eagerly. "I am sure it has been a long time since Lady Walden has attended such an affair, and I feel certain she would enjoy it."
When it was put to her that way, Diana could hardly refuse, and she found herself thanking him for his invitation. Though after her visitor had departed, she murmured to herself, Diana what were you thinking of? You must be all about in the head to allow yourself to be drawn into such a thing when you know how it will be—a crowd of overdressed people taking advantage of the license allowed by anonymity. Still, if she had Justin to share it with, it would be rather fun to watch.
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However, in the succeeding days, Diana was to acknowledge the astuteness of St. Clair's observations. She and her great-aunt were enjoying themselves thoroughly as they set about deciding on the characters they wished to portray and the appropriate costumes. It was a challenge to select a persona that was enough like their own not to feel awkward but different enough to offer some degree of disguise, and they spent several happy hours poring through their favorite works of history, literature, and mythology in an effort to select the perfect thing.
There were so many choices that they might have deliberated forever had not Lord Beardsley appeared on their doorstep some days later, a perfect picture of gloom. Ostensibly he had called to present Lady Diana with a copy of George Graves's recently published
Ornithology,
which he did with a polite nod toward Boney, who was preening himself on the mantel. As the scientist was a favorite with the bird, he was rewarded with a brief hello before Boney returned to the arrangement of his feathers.
Well aware that a good deal more than ornithology was on the marquess's mind, Diana invited him to stop awhile. "We are quite ready for some serious conversation as, I am sad to say, we have been passing the time as frivolously as any of the flightiest members of the
ton
in trying to devise costumes for Lady Topham's masquerade. It is a very good thing indeed that you came to distract us, as we stand in danger of entirely 261
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destroying the nice tone of our minds. But something appears to have vexed you. I hope your observations are proceeding well."
"Yes. They are coming along splendidly what with the new equipment I have procured," Alan replied. He fell silent for some time and then in a rush of confidence burst out, "It's this deuced masquerade. My mother absolutely insists that I accompany her. I find social affairs of any sort to be a complete waste of time, and masquerades only encourage ordinarily stupid people to even greater heights of folly. But the plaguey things of it is, I must abide by my promise to escort her around the town if I am ever to be left alone to do my work."
Diana smiled sympathetically. "In the main I agree, but St. Clair has offered to escort us, and I must say that now I have consented, I am rather looking forward to it. 'Tis bound to prove a splendid spectacle, and one is less carefully scrutinized or gossiped about at these affairs than at others, and therefore may take the retiring role of observer without occasioning the comment that is bound to arise if one does such a thing in other situations. Besides, I shall know at least three sensible people there, and that is more than enough for me."
She thought for a moment before exclaiming, "I have it!
We can all go as constellations, and thus be forced by the nature of our costumes to stay together. That way we can be assured of rational conversation and behavior. Knowing that I don't care to dance, you won't feel constrained to ask me, and I shan't be forced to accept. What do you think of that?" 262
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"You might have an idea there," his lordship admitted cautiously. In truth, it did not sound so very bad. After all, he quite enjoyed Diana and Lady Walden, and one could always count on Justin to be amusing. "My mother is going as Mary Queen of Scots—does so every year. She won't be half pleased if I don't go as Darnley," Alan fretted. Then, taking courage from the thought that he would be among supporters, he continued boldly, "But she will just have to accept that. You might go as Andromeda, Lady Walden as Cassiopeia, and Justin as Perseus while I could be Orion; that is if it agrees with you," he concluded hesitantly.
"A splendid idea!" Diana and her great-aunt spoke in unison.
The marquess blushed a fiery red. "I'm glad you like it. But, indeed, I only meant to call for a moment as I must get back to my work." He rose hastily, somewhat alarmed at being the object of such approbation. However, at the door he stopped and turned around to add bashfully, "I do thank you ladies. I shan't dread the evening quite so much."
"Nor shall we." Diana rose also. "And thank you very much for the book." She rang for Finchley to show him out, but the marquess was already plunging down the stairs.
"Poor man," she remarked to her companion as she returned to her seat. "His mother seems a perfect gorgon. How much happier he would be if she were to leave him alone. There is something to be said, after all, for parents who are too absent-minded to meddle." Making his ways down Brook Street the subject of their conversation was thinking very hard indeed. Not that he paid 263
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the least attention to such things in general, but he seemed to remember that when he had complained in a passing remark to Justin about the masquerade, his friend had declared his firm intention of avoiding such a frippery affair at all costs—and Justin St. Clair was not a man to change his mind. It had not taken him long to think better of his resolution. Apparently the company of Lady Diana Hatherill could made even the most nonsensical of amusements worth attending—a most interesting state of affairs indeed. In another part of town, someone very different from the marquess was arriving at much the same conclusion. For some time now Suzette de Charenton had been aware of her lover's abstraction. Of late, his attentions to her had been neither as frequent nor as marked as they had been in the past. Of course it could be attributed to a deadening sense of familiarity and the resultant boredom, but Suzette was far too experienced and far too wise to believe that. No, her intuition told her that another woman was responsible for the slackening of Justin's interest.
To be sure, he was as skilled and satisfying a lover as always, and when roused, was as passionate and sensual as ever, so she did not think that he found her any less desirable than he had before. No, this was a preoccupation that hinted that he was thinking about something or someone else. Of course, Justin had many friends and many other flirts, but until now no one had affected him enough to distract his attention from the opera dancer. Thus, it must be a relatively recent acquaintance, probably female at that. Suzette had her suspicions as to who it was—the woman who had so annoyed 264
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Justin by refusing to bend to his will—the woman she had seen at the opera who, unlike the rest of the female population, appeared to be unmoved by Justin St. Clair. Ordinarily Suzette was far too wise a woman to tax her lovers, especially such a one as St. Clair, with other interests. But in this case, her curiosity was getting the best of her. And besides, for once in her life, she truly did care about her lover. Oh no, she was not in love with her handsome admirer—she was far too practical for such a silly notion—but Justin had been more than a lover. He had been a friend. He had recognized her as a serious artist and admired her for it. He had treated her as a human being instead of a beautiful face and an exquisite figure or a possession that would add to his consequence. And she in turn thought of him as something more than a conquest.
Leaning across a satin pillow after an especially passionate bout of lovemaking, the dancer smoothed back the dark hair that had fallen across his brow. "You are distracted,
cheri.
Is anything amiss?"
Justin started. To be honest, he had been thinking of the relief and happiness in Diana's face as she had laughed at Boney's antics. She had been so upset when he had arrived, and she had allowed him to comfort her. It was such a simple thing, but Justin felt more rewarded than he could remember feeling in a long time—more pleased than when he had convinced Monsieur Talleyrand to concede to the Russians on a small point. And now, here he was in another woman's bed thinking of how wonderful it had felt to hold Diana in his arms.
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He must be all about in the head! Justin St. Clair had gone blithely from one woman to the next without a backward glance, and now here he was thinking about a pair of sapphire eyes and beautiful lips at what truly was a most inopportune moment.
Suzette saw the reminiscent glow in his eyes, she was sure of it. It had to be another woman. And this time it was not lust, but love. In the oddest way, she was happy for Justin. Suzette considered love a totally ridiculous and useless emotion, but she sensed that Justin, cynic that he was, had secretly longed for it, and had just despaired of ever finding it. Well, he had helped her and been a friend to her, the dancer decided, and now it was time to repay the favor.
"'Tis the woman who made you so angry that you are thinking of, is it not?" She smiled impishly at him.
"What, Lady Diana?" The dancer's extraordinary perspicacity startled Justin out of his usual cautious reticence. Suzette nodded sagely. "Me, I am a woman of the world. I can see she had reached the so imperturbable Justin St. Clair.
Non, cheri,
don't deny it. Me, I do not mind. I shall lose a lover of the most charming, but"—she shrugged her white shoulders—"there are others, and I am a practical woman. You have been the best I ever had and generous, too. Therefore, I wish you to find a woman worthy of you to love. I think that perhaps at last you have. And you are not the sort of man to have both a mistress and a wife,
hein
?" Justin sat dumbfounded. Suzette was not given to idle chatter, and she was a shrewd woman. It had been her beauty and passion that first attracted him, however, it was 266
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her Gallic wisdom and her pragmatism that had kept him coming back. It was restful to be with her. She understood what life was all about, and asked for nothing from it except a chance to better herself through her work and to practice her art to the best of her ability. In some way, because he respected her so much for this, Justin wished he could give her more.
She sat looking him gravely, a hint of worry in her green eyes. "Don't be concerned about me,
cheri.
You know that I do not count on
mes affaires de coeur
to last or even to support me. Me, when I am too old to dance, I shall return to Paris and open a school for dancers so the world can see true ballet as she is supposed to be and not a bunch of silly girls looking for wealthy patrons."
"And you shall have it, Suzette," he replied with a crooked smile. "But that too will need wealthy patrons to support it, and I intend to be the first."
She grasped his hand and gazed deep into his eyes. "You,
mon ami,
are a very kind and true friend."
"And you do not have many of those I think?" He questioned her gravely.
"Non.
Most people are fools that I do not waste my time on." She leaned over and kissed him. "Now be off. I must practice. She is a good woman. Lady Diana. She is proud. She looks after herself. I have seen her. She carries herself with an air of one who knows what she is about." And that, Justin thought as he rode slowly home, was just the problem. Diana had even less need for anyone in her life 267
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than Suzette did, and he was fast coming to realize that he very much wanted to be a part of her life. He had always led a rather solitary existence, surrounded by friends to be sure, but constantly focused on his interests, whether they were diplomatic or financial, rather than on people, and now, as Suzette had so cleverly pointed out, he discovered that Diana had become one of those interests. Not a day went by but that he wondered how she was faring. So many times he wished he could ask her opinion of something. So many times he wanted to share something with her. Not only was she interested in many of the things he was, she actually reflected on them and enjoyed discussing them as much as he did. At the same time, she added a slightly different perspective that was as original as it was refreshing and thus stimulated him to further thought. So much of Justin's life had passed in idle amusement, not because he particularly wished to waste his time in an orgy of dissipation, but because there had been so little to challenge him in the empty life of the
ton,
and thus he had done everything to excess purely to make it as interesting as possible.
Now there was someone whose presence made anything interesting, whether it was a drive in the park or the discussion of income taxes, and Justin was filled with a desire to be the best, the most knowledgeable in every field in order to stimulate her in return. For she did seem to enjoy their time together as much as he did, didn't she? Surely there was a certain sparkle of enthusiasm in Diana's eyes that shone only for him and no one else, wasn't there? So often when 268
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she smiled at him lately, he was convinced it was a special smile she reserved just for him, wasn't it?
Suddenly Justin was seized with a horrible sense of doubt that he hadn't experienced since his first few awkward youthful encounters. What if he were just another man to her—someone as useless as Reginald, Ferdie, and her father had been? He couldn't bear the thought. You have become a coxcomb then, a nasty little voice in his head whispered, if you think that every woman is naturally smitten with you. Well, almost every woman had—until now.