A Scandalous Portrait (The Rose Room Rogues #1) - Callie Hutton Page 0,54

quaint knocker opened, and they were greeted by Peters. Seeing the man’s rough-hewn face reminded Hunt that he needed to explain the man to Diana, as well as his valet, Marcus, since given their rough background, she would not understand occasional slips of the tongue.

Although she knew several of the staff from her occasional visits to his home, Hunt decided a formal introduction to the small number of servants as they lined up in the entrance hall to greet them was appropriate.

As expected, Diana was gracious and charming to the staff. She spoke with each one, asking their names and inquiring about their families. It was apparent to him from their beaming faces that they loved their new mistress already.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Grady, stepped forward once the introductions were complete. “My lady, I am at your service whenever you wish to tour the house and go over the household accounts. Cook is waiting to meet with you also to go over the menu.”

Diana dipped her head. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Grady, but I think for today I will just trust whatever Cook has planned for the day. May we meet first thing in the morning for the tour?”

“Yes. That is perfect. Now may we prepare tea for you and his lordship?”

Diana turned to him. “Tea?”

“No. I think not. I have work to catch up on, and I’m still full from our breakfast, but you go ahead if you wish.”

“I think not, Mrs. Grady. Like his lordship, I am still full from breakfast.”

She curtsied. “Very well, then. Luncheon will be at one o’clock.”

Hunt gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and took her hand again. “I will let you check on your maid and see you at luncheon.” He turned on his heel, feeling quite happy, and strode to the library.

Diana padded up the carpeted stairs to Hunt’s bedchamber. Although she would sleep there, she had decided to store most of her belongings from her London townhouse in the room connected to the sitting room between them. Then, when they moved to the country estate, most of it would go there since that was much larger than this house.

“My lady, how lovely to see you. Did you have a nice trip?” Marguerite greeted her as she entered the room, taking items out of a trunk. There were still barrels and boxes of clothing scattered around the room.

“It was lovely. Again, I’m sorry you didn’t go with us.”

Marguerite waved her off. “That’s fine, my lady. I’m not one for travel, anyway.” She blushed slightly. “Although I must say it was quite titillating to know your husband wanted to be your lady’s maid.”

Diana blushed along with her. She’d been surprised when Hunt told her that he was very adept at dressing and undressing women, so they didn’t need a third person on their honeymoon. He’d left his valet in London, also. The entire time they were gone, Diana had kept her hair in a simple style that she could do herself. She grinned, remembering some of the undressing sessions they’d had.

Diana turned in a circle, her hands on her hips. “Where are we going to put all of this?”

Marguerite nodded toward a wardrobe against the wall. “I was able to clear out some space in that one.” She continued to pull out gowns and shake them.

Diana walked over to the wardrobe. Sitting alongside it was a picture frame with a piece of linen draped over it. The closer she got, the more anxious she became, her heart pounding and her mouth dry. It looked familiar and, with a shaky hand, she pulled up the fabric and gasped.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” Marguerite asked.

Diana was staring at the portrait Hunt was supposed to burn. Her thoughts were so muddled she couldn’t speak. He’d kept it all this time! Had he spent his nights ogling her?

She growled and flipped the linen down, picked up the vile painting, and marched across the room. “I will be back, Marguerite.”

Or not.

She flew down the stairs, almost losing her footing as she rounded the corner and headed toward the library. She flung the door open to see Hunt sitting at his desk. He looked up and smiled. Within seconds, his smile dimmed. “Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

Diana stormed up to the desk and slammed the painting in front of him, then came within inches of his face. “Don’t you sweetheart me. You, you, you blackguard!” She quelled the urge to slap his face. How dare he keep that