Her lower lip quivered. She nodded mutely.
“That bloody buggering bastard!” His vision blurred again, but this time in blind rage. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, stroking, soothing. “It’s all right, my love. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you. Do you understand me, Diana?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, his fury adding a harsh and unfamiliar edge to his voice. “Just know that whatever we do together is about mutual pleasure. I will never do anything you don’t wish me to do.”
“I know that now,” she said, twining her arms around his neck and kissing him back.
“Do you? Then let us be certain.” He pulled her down on top of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting you in control,” he answered, positioning her thighs on either side of his hips. “We shall start the races early, my dear, for you shall ride me.”
CHAPTER TEN
IT WAS DANGEROUSLY PAST DAWN when Diana crept stealthily back to her own bedchamber. She quietly opened the door, praying Polly hadn’t already noticed her absence. Upon closing it behind her, she noted the bed curtains were still drawn just the way she had left them, and the fire was still banked. She breathed a sigh of relief that she was undiscovered. Yet, when Diana looked to the chair by her dressing table where she had discarded her night rail, it was gone.
Strange. She searched the room in vain. Mayhap she had left it on the bed? Diana drew back the heavy velvet and gasped.
Reggie lay fully clothed atop the counterpane, reclining back on a mountain of pillows. He raked her with an insolent gaze. “Looking for something, my dear? It must have been an eventful night indeed. I’ve waited for you for hours.”
“Eventful? Hardly.” She laughed, her mind scrambling for an alibi. “I was reading in the library and fell asleep in the chair.”
“Without your night rail?” He held up the cotton gown with an evil smirk. “Even if I was stupid enough to believe you, your appearance betrays you. Look at yourself, Diana! You look like some Covent Garden whore.”
She stole a glance to the mirror over the mantel and knew that it was true. Her lips were swollen, her hair mussed beyond redemption, and most telling of all was the faint purple shadow of a love bite on her neck. She realized she had no defense, but neither did he have the right to accuse her. Her initial shock turned to fury. “Does it really matter to you, Reggie where I spent my night?” she hissed. “As I certainly know where you have been spending yours.”
His gaze narrowed. He abruptly sat up and seized her arm, squeezing as if it were clamped in a vice. “Do you now?” His eyes glittered dangerously. “And just where might that be?”
“Must I say it aloud?”
He paled at the realization she had discovered his well-guarded secret. “You have no proof of anything,” he spat. “Besides, where I bed and with whom is my own damned business.”
“Your own business? But I am your wife! You made vows to me!”
“As did you, Diana. No man likes to be made a fool. So I ask again—where were you last night?
“I already told you.”
“Don’t bother lying again as I already have all the proof I need of your iniquity. I only marvel that any man could stir you to passion. Or were you simply moved by desperation? Did you hope to bargain with him by playing his whore? Did you please him well, Diana? I truly hope so, as your tight little quim might be the only way to regain what was lost.”
His words stunned her. She regarded him with a blank stare. “Bargain? Wh-what are you talking about?”
“That DeVere has the deed to Palmerston Hall. Did you not realize?”
Her mind reeled. “How can that be? You lost it in gaming at Clay Hill.”
“I do not know precisely how it came about. I can only conclude that DeVere bought my vowels from O’Kelly.”
“You lie! Why would he do such a thing?”
“How the bloody hell would I know? I first thought he intended to ruin me to claim the estate, but what is a meager five hundred acres and run-down manor house to such a man? I can only presume then that he desired the stud, but whatever his motives, all seems now to have miraculously worked to my advantage.”
“How do you mean? How can any of this be to your advantage?” she asked, her heart racing.
“Simple, my dear heart. You are lawfully my wife, my legal property, whether I choose to use you as such or not. If DeVere desires that which is mine, he must pay for the privilege.”
“You would pimp me like a whoremonger? You bastard!” she screamed.
He smiled. “Needs must when the devil drives and all that rot. I have needs, and that devil DeVere happens to be an exceedingly wealthy man. Don’t look so put out, my dear. After all, it was you who provided the perfect solution to our little problem.”