Nicole Jordan by Lord of Seduction Page A

it.”
    “And?”
    “And yes, I will agree to a betrothal. But it will only be temporary. Only until Amy’s future is successfully settled.”
    “Of course.” A faint smile curved Thorne’s mouth as he gave her an elaborate bow. “You do me great honor.”
    “There is no need for such pretense, my lord,” Diana said wryly.
    “If we’re officially betrothed, you must call me Thorne. Or Christopher.”
    “Thorne will do. I don’t wish us to become overly familiar for the brief duration of our arrangement.”
    He grinned more broadly at that. “I fear some measure of familiarity is inevitable, love.”
    “I disagree. And such endearments are not necessary to our charade, either.”
    “Ah, but they
are
if we expect to convince the ton we are actually engaged. My reservations against wedlock are well known. The only credible reason I would willingly give up my bachelorhood is if I were ensnared by love. So the pretense that you stole my heart is one we should cultivate.”
    Diana felt herself grimace, dismayed by the prospect of having to feign love between them. It would be difficult enough to deny the searing attraction she already felt for Thorne, without the additional complication of pretending an emotional entanglement. But he did have a point. “I suppose you are right.”
    “I am. And we should begin to prepare our audience as soon as possible. Tomorrow a ship will be sailing from Cyrene, so I’ll use it to send notices to the London papers of our betrothal, and to inform my father also. And I will write my Aunt Hennessy. I must give her some advance notice if she’s to sponsor Amy’s comeout, as well as warn her about my unexpected betrothal. Doubtless she will be astonished.”
    “Will we be leaving for London shortly?” Diana asked. “If so, I should tell Amy to keep her trunks packed.”
    “A week should give me time to arrange matters in England satisfactorily. I thought to depart next Wednesday or Thursday.”
    “But that will put our arrival in London very close to the start of the Season.”
    “My ship is much faster than the packet that brought you here. Our voyage should take two weeks rather than three or more, barring any major storms at sea. And we have several tasks to accomplish before we leave. During the next sennight I’ll have a dressmaker make up wardrobes for both you and Amy.”
    Diana frowned. “It won’t be necessary for me to have more than a new gown or two. I am not the one making my comeout.”
    “It will, love. I want my betrothed to be dressed in the height of fashion, especially if you plan to squire Amy about London. The French modiste I have in mind recently hails from Paris, where she once designed gowns for the nobility.”
    “How is it that you are so aware of ladies’ fashions?” she asked with a sardonic note in her voice, but her attempt to provoke Thorne only succeeded in rousing a hint of wicked humor in his eyes.
    “I make it my business to know what pleases a woman. And most women of my acquaintance are keenly interested in adorning their plumage. Cyrene isn’t so different from England in that respect. Or in the way society is ruled, either. Our island society is led by some three dozen British families who have their own little ton and can be quite as ruthless as London’s beau monde. Which reminds me…I’ve arranged for a respectable widow, Señora Padillo, to act as chaperone for the duration of your stay.”
    “Thank you,” Diana said with all sincerity.
    “And I have a friend whom I mean to introduce to Amy tomorrow. John Yates will be traveling to England with us, and I intend for him to help keep her occupied until our departure.”
    “To divert her mind from her infatuation?”
    “Precisely. Her fortune-hunter requires
some
competition.” There was a glint in Thorne’s eye that suggested he would enjoy creating an element of subterfuge.
    “And I suppose you don’t mean to tell Amy that you are scheming against her? Rather