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

the cloud of her parents’ scandal, there were men willing to overlook those failings for a generous dowry and ducal connections. Most of those men hadn’t come up to her grandmother’s rigorous standards. The duchess deemed any suitors flush in the pockets but lacking titles, upstarts. Men with good breeding and no money were, of course, fortune hunters.
    Those few men who had met with her grandmother’s approval had not suited Diana. Though she did not seek a love match, she didn’t want a husband, whatever his wealth or title, with one foot in the grave, or a fondness for drink, or a penchant for heavy gambling, all qualities of the men the duchess had proposed as suitable candidates. Their battle of wills had continued through her second Season.
    They might have compromised in Diana’s third Season, but her both her grandparents took ill and the doctor advised their family to remain at Halswelle Hall, her grandfather’s country estate. The following year, Diana had discovered that men had little interest in a girl in her fourth Season, no matter her dowry or relations. After three Seasons, there was an understanding that a girl hadn’t “taken,” or was disinclined to marry, and she would no longer have to suffer the constant round of balls, masquerades, Venetian breakfasts, and musicales expected of a young lady single-mindedly fixed on matrimony.
    The Duchess of Lansdowne did not ascribe to this understanding. Her desire to see Diana wed increased with each passing year, which meant she forced Diana to attend every possible event where she might encounter a prospective husband. When Parliament finally called a recess and the
ton
departed London for their country estates, Diana was as unattached as ever and utterly exhausted.
    She promised herself that this would be the last year. She would rather spend eternity leading apes in hell than spend another Season hunting for a husband. The apes might even be preferable. Supposedly,
they
could be trained.
    The dance wasn’t complicated, and her attention strayed to Lord and Lady Dunston. Love was evident in every look they shared. Passion was almost palpable in the air between them. Diana thought them either very brave or very foolhardy, perhaps a bit of both. The more one had, the more one had to lose.
    “So grim,” Henry murmured as he turned her. “The other women will refuse to dance with me if you make it look so unpleasant.”
    His words amused her, and she was grateful for the distraction from her dark thoughts. “Every woman in this room hopes to dance with you.”
    “You flatter me,” he said. “Surely, as a gentleman, that is my responsibility.”
    She shook her head. “We both know your mother has given you enough gentlemanly responsibility where I am concerned.”
    He recovered himself quickly, but she could tell she’d surprised him. She’d surprised herself. If there was one thing she had learned in all her Seasons, it was that pretense was everything. Society would cease to function without the pretty lies that passed for polite manners.
    “Miss Merriwether—”
    “I was not taking you to task, Mr. Weston,” she said softly. “I only meant that, with me, you need not exert yourself to be charming. I am grateful enough for the opportunity to dance.”
    No further words passed between them for the remainder of the dance. As he escorted her back to her mother and grandmother, Diana wondered if he would defy his mother and refuse to stand up with her again. That would certainly limit her opportunities for dancing this Season.
    Henry paused a few feet from their destination. She glanced at him, noted the solemn expression on his face and braced herself not to react to whatever he had to say.
    “I have already danced with you this evening for my mother’s benefit,” he acknowledged, “so when I ask you to dance again, it will be solely of my own accord.”
    Then he smiled at her. Not his practiced heart-melting, knee-weakening smile. Not