Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

But he hadn’t plunged her head underwater. She’d done that to herself.

And if she continued to flinch at every good thing that came her way, she would do it again and again and again, drowning everything she could have. He’d known it too. She didn’t need to forgive him. She needed…

“Enough of this.” She spoke the words aloud, slicing her hand through the air as she spoke.

“My lady?”

Elaine glanced behind her in surprise. Mary was still waiting behind her, stifling a yawn.

When Elaine had been hurt in the past, she had retreated inside herself. It was time to make a change.

“Mary,” Elaine said, clambering to her feet, “we have only a few hours, and I’m going to need a new gown.”





EVAN WAS TRAPPED BY PILLOWS. The afternoon sun filtered through his cousin’s sitting room. The room was papered in resplendent gold and green; Evan felt rather out of place in his sober brown. A profusion of tiny cushions, embroidered in cunning patterns, flocked about him. If he moved, he would knock them to the floor.

Diana sat opposite him. They’d exchanged only the most inconclusive of greetings. She’d ushered him into the room and had rung for tea, and they’d sat in awkward silence until the tray arrived. Only the faint lines gathered about her mouth suggested her distress.

She had scarcely spoken with him since that evening at the house party last summer. She had informed him at a family gathering in the autumn that he would soon come to his senses. Two weeks later, she’d asked him to drop his friendship with Elaine. He’d refused, and since then they had exchanged only stilted words when their paths crossed.

Now, even with the servants departed, they clinked their teacups at one another. Evan contemplated how to proceed.

But Diana set her saucer on the table next to her and turned to look out the window. “You know, Evan,” she said softly, “I would never say or do anything to hurt you.”

He leaned to place his cup on a nearby table. As he shifted, a forest-colored pillow tumbled to the floor. “I know. But—”

She waved her hand. “I know what you’re thinking. I would never spread rumors saying that I saw your precious Elaine in the morning with an unknown man, either. I wouldn’t think of it.”

He simply met her eyes levelly. She snorted.

“Very well. I considered it for a few moments, but no longer. If I did any such thing, you’d simply tell everyone it was you, and you would marry her instantly.”

“You know me too well.”

Her lips pressed together. “I do.” She reached over and took his empty cup. It was a familiar ritual to have her refill it and then add a half-spoonful of sugar. She handed it back, almost unaware of what she’d done. “But I hardly see how this matters. You’re going to marry her in any event.”

Yes. He was. But she’d not asked a question. She hadn’t needed to do so.

“Don’t.” She adjusted the teapot on the tray. “Please don’t.”

“If you tell me I can do better than her, this conversation is at an end. Besides, after last night, I haven’t any choice in the matter. Even if I’d wanted one.”

Diana lifted her head, but only to look out the window. “Don’t,” she repeated. “Please. You’re the brother I never had. I’ve missed you these last months. But how can we be friends with her around? She will never forgive me. If you marry her, I shall lose you forever.”

He swallowed.

“I knew you…you were interested in her. I guessed it quite some time ago. Do you remember that time, when you asked me if we mightn’t stop laughing at her?”

He nodded jerkily. It had been a few months into Elaine’s first Season. He’d broached the matter, speaking lightly, as if it were a joke. Diana had brushed him off, and he’d never said another word.

“That’s when I suspected. And I knew that if you stopped teasing her—if she came to know you—of course she would fall in love with you. How could she help herself? And when she did, your loyalties to her would soon outweigh your friendship with me. Evan, she hates me. How could she not?”

She forgave me. But he couldn’t grant Elaine’s forgiveness to Diana. And when Elaine had pulled from him this morning, he’d been left wondering whether he truly had received her trust.

“You could try being kind for a change,” he said mildly.

Diana gave him a sad smile. “After all that I’ve said? If I retract the claws, all of London society will devour me. It is either kill or be killed. If you’re not the wolf, you’re the rabbit.”

“There are no wolves. There are no rabbits. We’re all just human. I think you will find that if you treat people decently, they will respond.”