A Rogue for All Seasons (Weston Family) Read Online Free PDF

dance.
    Diana knew she didn’t measure up—her red hair, hazel eyes, and freckled complexion were far from the current standards of beauty; or rather, she measured too far up, because she towered over many of her prospective dance partners. But when Henry Weston came looking for her, even if it was because his mother forced him, Diana had difficulty remembering why she wanted to hide in the first place. That was a problem. A big problem.
    And she did mean
big
. He made Diana feel tiny in comparison, which was no mean feat. Everyone knew that he put in a goodly number of hours in the ring at Jackson’s Salon, and she—along with the rest of her sex—was most appreciative of the results. His excellently tailored black tailcoat and knee breeches displayed his impressive physique to perfection. She could easily see him as a barbarian leader of old, ruthlessly invading foreign lands and victoriously claiming the spoils.
    Why she found this thrilling, she could not say. He wasn’t going to be plundering her, after all. Nor did she want plundering. And she did not spend a great deal of time in contemplation of Henry Weston’s pugilistic pursuits, because that would be exceedingly improper. And she certainly never considered what he might wear—or not—when he boxed.
    Very well, it was possible her mind wandered those forbidden paths—and her eyes traced the definition of those impossibly broad shoulders—on a regular basis. She couldn’t help herself. The man drew female attention like lit candles called moths. He reminded her of Apollo, with his golden hair, strength, and vitality. He looked the part tonight, with the candlelight gilding his fair hair, but everyone knew he had more of the devil in him than of any god.
    Seduction stamped the hard angles of his cheekbones. Temptation marked the square set of his jaw. Desire defined the curve of his lips. When those lips parted in that charming, slightly crooked smile of his, Diana knew it was only natural to feel the bottom of her stomach drop away and hear her mother calling her name…
    No, the bit about her mother wasn’t right.
    “Diana!”
    Her mother’s sharp rebuke finally penetrated Diana’s mental wanderings. She snapped to attention to discover the man himself standing before her as though her thoughts had somehow drawn him over. Diana felt her cheeks heat, which only served to further her embarrassment as pink cheeks clashed horribly with red hair—a vicious cycle, really.
    She scrambled to stand and nearly tripped. Her mother, who had risen as gracefully as she did everything else, shot her a worried frown. Diana risked a sideways glance at her grandmother. The Duchess of Lansdowne did not look pleased. This wasn’t unusual, but she usually attempted a more neutral expression in public.
    “Good evening, Your Grace. Lady Linnet.” He bowed. “Miss Merriwether, will you do me the honor of a dance?”
    “Thank you, Mr. Weston.” She dropped a flawless curtsy that she hoped made up for a bit of her prior clumsiness. “I would like that very much.”
    They walked toward the lines that had formed for a country-dance, and Henry led her to the top, where Lord and Lady Dunston stood. They made space so she and Henry were the second couple in line, which made her uneasy. She wasn’t concerned about her dancing abilities; her grandmother had insisted she have a dancing master, so she knew she could acquit herself passably on that account.
    Even so, she didn’t like to place herself at the center of attention. From the moment she’d made her debut, Society had been waiting for her to follow in her mother’s footsteps. Though Diana was
not
sorry to disappoint them, she had no thought of running off and marrying the stable master. Not, she reflected, that her grandfather’s stable master, or any other man, wanted to run off with
her
.
    When she’d first come out, she’d had some suitors. Though her looks weren’t fashionable, and though she stood under