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  She leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders. “Gryffon! Please, you must stop this!”

  “I’ve had to fight for everything I have,” Gryf said as he shook her off. “I’ve executed deadlier men than you. I’ll fucking kill you before the night is through.”

  “Gryff,” Diana hissed.

  Frank leaned up on an arm and pulled in a mighty breath. “Well, I never shun a man for trying, though I advise you be prepared to meet failure.” His eyes were unrelenting.

  Gryff stiffened.

  Diana froze and then glared at Frank. Why would he tempt her brother so? “Are you mad?”

  “Mr. Bancroft?” An elderly woman’s voice came from the hall.

  All three turned to find not only the lady, but many of Gryff’s employees standing around the entrance. Their expressions were all dazed. A few of the younger boys were grinning.

  Bancroft got to his feet and straightened his coat. “Lady Finch, we’ll have to schedule our dinner for another time.”

  “So you can kill the poor man?” the woman asked with a shake of her head. “No. certainly not. Besides, I’m hungry.” Lady Finch had silver hair and pale blue eyes. She was short and slightly round with a pretty face that spoke of phenomenal beauty in her younger years. She wore a gray gown and jet jewels, which meant she was likely coming out of mourning.

  Diana had met her a few times. She was one of Gryff’s earliest benefactors, knew much about her brother’s operations, and was one of the only aristocrats her brother extended his protection to.

  Bancroft’s one exception to his hatred for the titled.

  Or rather, his first exception, since Lady Jeanshire was his second.

  The lady turned to Diana. “Diana, so lovely to see you again, dear.”

  Diana tried to return the woman’s smile as she stood and curtseyed. “Lady Finch.”

  “Come now,” the lady said. “You swore your cook made the best fish and I’m eager to have some.” Then she looked at Frank. “You as well. Such vigorous exercise will make a man hungry. I would know. I raised three sons of my own.” She was very pleased with her sons. She spoke of them often enough. “Come on. Come on.” She started away, the servants clearing at her retreat.

  A few snickers came from the hall, and Diana wondered how much any of them had seen and knew how quickly the story would spread.

  Some of the tension left the room, and Diana finally felt as though she could breathe.

  Frank started toward her, but Bancroft cut him off, completely blocking him.

  Her brother also spoke very harshly to her. “Go put on a gown and meet us in the dining room.” Then he glared at Frank. “After you.”

  Frank narrowed his eyes. “I would rather go home if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind, for I would rather you died,” her brother said. “But Lady Finch has already requested your presence. You will clean up in one of my other rooms and join us.”

  Frank crossed his arms. “And if I refuse?”

  Diana sighed and wondered how much more of this she could take. She liked Frank. Greatly. And she loved her brother. She wanted them to get along. “Boys, please. Let us have dinner and be done with all this gory business. No one is dying tonight.” She moved to the door, but then thought better of leaving them alone. “After you,” she said to Frank.

  Frank held her eyes, and then rolled his own before starting from the room, but he stopped suddenly and turned to Bancroft. “I thought you should know something before we join Lady Finch.”

  Diana stilled and prayed he’d not share their secret. He’d promised he wouldn’t.

  “Lord Dahl is dead,” Frank said.

  Bancroft’s face showed his surprise, at least to those who knew what to look for, like herself.

  Diana turned to Frank. “How do you know?”

  “I inquired,” was all he said, but his eyes told her something more. They’d speak later.

  Bancroft said, “Did you kill him?”

  “Sadly not.” With that, Frank was gone.

  Bancroft remained in the room for a moment and then started out. “Forgive me for the way I removed you from the fight. Go get dressed,” he said to Diana before starting out, not even waiting to see if she did forgive him.

  There wasn’t much to forgive. She shouldn’t have moved toward the men. She knew to stay away, just as she’d done when Frank had fought Hit. Bancroft had only made sure she’d not been injured.

  But the push had inadvertently pushed Frank to fight harder. Did her brother know that? And if he did, she wondered at his thoughts.

  Knowing it best she arrived at dinner before the men met again, she dressed swiftly into one of the dresses she kept at the garden for entertaining and presented herself in the dining room.

  Only to find she was too late.

  Her brother already sat at one end of the small table, Frank at the other. Both men had pulled themselves together, neither looking worse for wear. One would think that nothing had previously occurred, except for the fact that Frank winced when he moved. This caused her brother’s lips to twitch. The challenging glares and clear anger bounced from one end of the table to the other, making Diana more uneasy.

  Four chairs sat between them with two on either side. Diana moved to be at her brother’s side, knowing it was best she calm the beast. Sitting next to Frank would only agitate him further.

  Lady Finch was across from her and wore a knowing smile on her face. Being a woman who’d never been afraid to say whatever came to mind, she said, “I’m not surprised at all that you chose a man like Dr. Lockwood. Someone who could handle himself in a match of fisticuffs.”

  * * *

  25

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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  Diana nearly choked on her wine at Lady Finch’s words. If the lady knew, then perhaps the others who’d stood at the door of the office knew as well.

  The lady and Frank must have been introduced while they waited for Diana, and it was clear that Lady Finch had seen a great portion of the battle.

  Bancroft grunted.

  Diana licked her lips. “What makes you believe Dr. Lockwood and I are more than friends?” Had Frank said something? She knew her brother hadn’t.

  Lady Finch narrowed her eyes. “A woman can tell these things, you know. After all, why else would Bancroft come to your defense, against a man who is clearly a rogue?”

  Frank cleared his throat and then took a sip of his wine. “My lady, I can assure you that no one has ever thought of me in such a way before.”

  The woman wrinkled her nose at him. “They may not have thought it, but a man with your looks has likely known his fair share of women.” She waited for confirmation even at Frank’s outraged expression.

  Diana’s stomach turned. She did not want confirmation in the least.

  Bancroft spoke. “Ah, the fish is here.”

  “Excellent.” Lady Finch’s attention was easily steered away.

  The servants moved quickly. A few grinned in Frank’s direction. She heard one of the young men whisper, “Pick.” And then leave.

  Her brother was glaring once again, his gaze on the retreating backs of the footmen.

  Lady Finch turned to Frank. “Doctor, I hear you’re very good at solving problems.”

  Frank’s gaze flickered to Diana before returning to Lady Finch. “Not always, my lady.” Did that mean he thought Diana a mystery?

  “Since my husband’s death…” The widow leaned toward him. “I’ve been trying to get my sons out of my house. They’re a boisterous trio and I want them gone so that I might have my own friends come without fear of embarrassment.”

  “Embarrassment?” Frank asked, his eyes focused on the woman. All tension had left his body, his hard jaw muscles relaxed, but his green gaze was scrutinizing. It was clear his mind was at work. Dia
na studied him and found she very much liked him while at work. It made her warm. Made her wonder what it would take to break his considerable amount of concentration.

  She bit her lip as she recalled the kiss he’d started in her brother’s office. He’d started it and his skill and taste had been just as concentrated as he was now.

  She blinked before she let her thoughts go too far. After all, she was around her brother. She glanced at him and was not at all surprised that he was glaring at her.

  Caught!

  “My boys bring women in the house, Dr. Lockwood,” Lady Finch went on. “And at all hours of the day. They also enjoy hosting routs endlessly through the season.”

  “Yet, you’d rather stay than find your own place?” Frank asked, his fingers rapping against the table.

  She straightened. “Well, of course! It was the home I shared with my dear Lord Finch. I could never leave. They can have it after I perish.” And she didn’t seem to fear death at all, which was good if she planned to spend any time with Bancroft. One never knew what would happen around her brother. He likely had just as many enemies, as friends.

  “What do you do when your sons hold routs?” Frank asked.

  A haughty look covered the older woman’s face. “Naturally, I retreat to my own rooms.”

  “Then don’t,” Frank suggested. “Don’t retreat. Join in the fun and embarrass your sons in return. Treat them like boys instead of men. I guarantee you, they’ll leave.”

  This suggestion surprised Lady Finch. “Truly? You think that will work?”

  Frank smiled. “I’ve a friend who grew so embarrassed by his own mother’s scandals, that he moved in with another friend of mine. Trust me, it will work.”

  Lady Finch smiled and then tapped her chin. “You’re one of those Men of Nashwood, are you not? I know who your friends are, and can imagine which friend was embarrassed by his mother. Could you be speaking of the Duke of Cort?”

  Frank raised his hand in protest. “I’ll not give his name, my lady.”

  Diana smiled, liking that he kept his friend’s confidence, though all of London knew about the Duchess of Cort’s past. After her husband’s death, the lady had taken to sleeping with any young man she could manage to lure to her bed.

  Bancroft turned to Frank. “I’ve known more than a few men who’ve embarrassed their home, but outside of your stance to work, when you could very well have the means to be a dallying dandy, I’ve never heard a note of gossip about you. Surely, there are things you’ve done that would shame your mother.”

  Diana narrowed her eyes at her brother. She knew exactly what he was trying to do. Had Bancroft looked into Frank? Well, of course he would have, since Frank had been caring for her at the country house. But knowing her brother was searching for a reason to keep Diana way from him irritated her.

  Frank picked up his wine glass. “My mother died before I reached my maturity, so I didn’t have many years to shame her.”

  Diana’s heart went out to him, and she wished she could touch him in comfort.

  Lady Finch gasped and placed a hand over her heart. “Oh, my, how awful. What a tragedy. How did it happen? Cholera? Dropsy? It takes the best of us.”

  “No, my lady.” Frank looked away. “It was a carriage accident. She was flung from it while it was moving at a quick pace.”

  Diana’s heart ached for him. “You weren’t there, were you?”

  He looked up at her and shook his head. “It was a long time ago.”

  “But every man has a past, does he not?” Bancroft pressed without sympathy for the tragic story.

  Diana kicked him underneath the table.

  He didn’t care. “Any skeletons in your cupboard?”

  “Bancroft,” Diana hissed.

  Lady Finch looked interested in the reply.

  Frank met Bancroft’s eyes. “Maybe one or two.”

  Diana stilled, unsure of what the answer implied. Did they speak of actual bones? As in death?

  Even Lady Finch was now watching the doctor closely.

  “One must do what one must,” Bancroft said.

  “I’ve always agreed.” Frank lifted his glass and sipped.

  Was this a truce?

  Diana’s eyes moved from her brother to Frank as she tried to understand what had just happened. What did they speak of? She was clearly missing some of this conversation. Was it about Lord Dahl? Surely not, since the man was dead.

  Shaking her head, she finished her meal as Lady Finch spoke to Frank about ‘embarrassments’ she could commit. Bancroft joined the conversation, sharing some stories about his own childhood. This was something he didn’t do in front of men he didn’t trust.

  Which meant he trusted Frank.

  Diana smiled.

  * * *

  “What did my brother mean when he said, ‘one must do what one must?”

  Frank turned toward Diana, glancing at her as they walked down the street at a very leisurely pace. Hit trailed them. He’d been called by Bancroft and hadn’t been happy to be informed that Diana had slipped away from him, yet again.

  “You need to keep close to Hit,” Frank said. “He’s been hired to protect you.”

  She sighed. “You’re right, and I’d hate to get him in trouble. Now, answer my question.”

  Frank thought and decided to be honest… or as honest as he could be. “Your brother and I discussed what should happen to Lord Dahl after you’d been retrieved. When he suggested the man’s death, I gave no protest.” He looked at her again. “It’s nothing I’ve not told you before. I’ll do what I must to protect you and, clearly, your brother will as well.” His back still hurt as did his head, but he’d refused to let Bancroft know just how badly he’d been injured, even electing to walk instead of taking a carriage as Bancroft had suggested.

  His fear of the transport had nothing to do with his refusal… or so he’d told himself.

  “My brother seems to approve of you.” Her voice held a smile as they stopped in front of Diana’s building.

  Frank looked up at the brick terrace. The lamp by the door was out, but light from other buildings helped them see. He looked over his shoulder to see his carriage was still there, and then turned to her once more. “Why do you live here and not with Bancroft?”

  She lifted a brow. “He doesn’t allow many people to know we’re related. Therefore, I’d look like a kept woman, if I did.”

  “But it would be safer,” Frank reasoned as they started up the stairs.

  “I’m safe here in Covent Garden.” She opened the door with a key and showed him into the common area. A long hall with rows of doors and a staircase greeted them. Hit took the stairs, giving Frank a firm look before disappearing.

  Frank looked around, thought the building sound, but still questioned its safety. A single lamp burned against a wall, hardly enough for anyone who came in late to make out others who might hide in the shadows. He didn’t like that there were other people in the building who could hurt her. “You should live with your brother if you’re to live in this area.”

  “I’m safe.” She grabbed his hand and twined their fingers, distracting his thoughts and muddling him further with her words. “You can come upstairs and inspect my rooms, if you don’t believe me.”

  His heart thundered in his chest as his thoughts rampaged with lust. He was injured and tired, but the thought of sinking himself between her thighs revived his energy.

  At least where his loins were concerned.

  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, as he struggled to right his mind. Her fragrance lingered at her wrist and flooded him with wild and brazen thoughts. Since he’d begun his studies in the ever-growing field of psychology a few years ago, no woman had managed to capture his attention as she had… not that he’d not bedded a few when the need struck him.

  But since meeting Diana…

  He was hungry.

  But knowing he’d need his control to see him through the challenges Diana faced, he put dow
n her hand and said, “You’re not safe until that matter with your other offender is put to rest. What can you tell me about him?”

  She looked away. He knew she was closing down even before she spoke. “I didn’t see him. He didn’t even speak.”

  That sickening feeling filled his belly once more. “Then how do you know he was there?”