The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower

by Hazel Linwood

  Once he was finished, Gabriel stood and turned to clean up the mess that had been left behind from his efforts. Stephen and Roberts aided in the effort and in no time at all it was as if the entire ordeal had not even taken place. When Gabriel returned, he took one look at Diana’s disheveled form and stepped back out of the library for a moment. A few moments later, Stephen reentered with him.

  “Stephen will sit with His Lordship while you go and get some rest, My Lady.” He gave her a look that said she should not argue, a brave thing to do in front of other people given their difference in station, but Diana nodded in gratitude, accepting the offer.

  “Thank you,” she murmured softly on a sigh. The fatigue that she had been pushing away washed over her in one fell swoop and her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

  “Are you well, My Lady?” Gabriel was at her side in a moment, his hand beneath her elbow to steady her.

  “Yes, just tired.” Diana found herself needing to lean on his arm for support. She had not realized just how taxing the last few days had been until the immediate crisis had passed. Now as she stood leaning against the solid length of his warmth, all that she could think about doing was folding herself into his arms and becoming lost in the fantasy of what was almost but could never be.

  “Goodnight, Gabriel,” she whispered into the brief span of air between them.

  “Goodnight, My Lady,” he whispered back, his voice and eyes reflecting every painful beat of her own heart.

  Chapter 22

  The Marquess’ recovery was slow and uncertain, but through the tireless efforts of Gabriel and Diana working together, along with the rest of the household staff, the master of Westwallow regained consciousness and began to heal. The Earl of Appley, feeling it was his duty to fill in for his downed comrade, remained at Westwallow to attend to matters of the estate in his stead until he was healthy enough to do so for himself once again.

  Working so close to one another had made it extraordinarily difficult to keep their hands and hearts to themselves, but Diana and Gabriel had somehow managed, being certain to never be alone together for any length of time. One deterrent was that the blacksmith’s daughter had begun to pay regular calls to Westwallow under the guise of bringing gifts of food from her mother to the ailing Marquess and his caregivers.

  It was sweet-hearted of the girl to visit and it fit in with the Marquess’ plan to have Gabriel wed as soon as possible, but with every smile exchanged between the girl and Gabriel, Diana’s heart shattered. The Earl had taken little note of the tension between the two star-crossed lovers, considering the blacksmith’s daughter a more than suitable partner for a stable hand, and had continued his pursuit of Diana undaunted. Diana had done everything in her power to be polite and yet avoid him as much as was humanly possible.

  The Marquess, having nothing to do but lie still and watch the world go by without him, had picked up on the tension between everyone and had begun to plan a trip to the family’s Welsh estate for when he was healed enough to travel. Initially, the Earl had intended to join them on their excursion westward, but was called home at the last moment due to a family issue back at Appley Manor. As kind as the Earl was, Diana breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him ride away.

  As per the Marquess’ instructions, Gabriel was to remain behind at Westwallow to put some distance between he and Diana. Per Diana’s request, her sister Georgette had been invited to travel along with them. It went against what her parents had wanted in getting Diana away from the influences of her older sister, but Diana had written to them explaining her intentions to introduce the Marquess and Georgette in hopes of a friendship being formed that might soften her sister’s heart to the matter of love and marriage. Her parents were swayed by her argument and gave their permission.

  When the day arrived to leave, Diana was packed and ready. She had mixed feelings about leaving Gabriel, but her heart needed the time to recover and accustom itself to the knowledge that he would never be hers. She thought she could do it without leaving but had found out the hard way that she could not do so with him so near, day in and day out. Every time she laid eyes on him her heart leapt in her chest and all thought of keeping her distance from him threatened to flee with every breath.

  God in Heaven help me, her heart cried out every time that his hand brushed hers and their eyes met.

  Now as she climbed up into the carriage with the Dowager Marchioness and the Marquess, Gabriel handed her up into the conveyance. The pressure of his hand on hers was enough to cause her breath to catch in her throat and her heart to stutter in its rhythm. Diana fought the urge to gasp at the exquisite agony of the moment.

  “Safe travels, My Lady,” he murmured softly, for her ears only.

  “Goodbye, Gabriel,” Diana whispered back, clung to his hand for one brief moment, then disappeared into the dark interior of the carriage, the feel of his fingertips still pressed into the palm of her hand.

  “Goodbye, My Lady.”

  Diana watched as Gabriel, and then Westwallow Manor itself, disappeared from sight. The driver turned the horses southwest toward Kilgrave so that they might retrieve Georgette before heading on to the Welsh country estate. Leaving the Westwallow estate lands and pulling out onto the main road, the horses began to pick up speed. They bumped along in the carriage, moving further and further away from her heart’s truest desire, the excitement of seeing her sister again, dimmed by the absence of Gabriel’s presence.

  Diana could hardly believe that her life had come to such a pass. Her proposed engagement to the Earl of Appley was the culmination of all of her father’s hopes and dreams, but try as she might, she could not bring herself to follow through with it. She had been given ample time with the Earl at Westwallow Manor to have accepted his proposal, but every time she looked at him all that she could think about was that he was not Gabriel.

  An image of Gabriel’s tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed form flashed through her mind and she felt a twinge of bittersweet emotion mixed with desire pluck at her chest. Attempting to get her emotions under control, she turned her attention to the world outside. She watched the familiar English landscape seemingly flitter by the carriage window in silence.

  How can I possibly become the Lady of Appley when all I wish to be is Gabriel’s?

  The responsibility of what she was expected to do for her father’s legacy warred with the passionate independent nature of her spirit and the calling of her heart.

  In days past a noble born father could dictate for his daughter to wed a nobleman and she would have had little to no say in the matter. Diana was grateful that in the present day a lady of her station was allowed some say in whom she would wed, but even she would not be able to avoid the inevitable forever. She would never be able to wed Gabriel unless they ran away together to Gretna Green and eloped, but if she did such a thing her family would be lost to her forever.

  Diana let out a sigh of discontent and wished that Frances was in the carriage with her instead of up on top of the carriage with the driver. She would much rather have traveled with her trusted friend then be sitting next to the Dowager Marchioness, attempting to hide the roiling tidal wave of emotions that were coursing through her being, but she had not been given the option of taking her own separate carriage. It was going to get rather crowded once Georgette joined their motley crew, but she would be grateful to have her sister by her side once more.

  Perhaps I should insist upon a second carriage once we arrive at Kilgrave. The Dowager Marchioness cannot argue with the need for space due to the Marquess’ still healing leg. Perhaps I could sway her with the argument that it is my Christian duty?

  Diana held back a smile of amusement at that. It was something that the Dowager Marchioness had used often in their lessons on proper decorum.

  It would be nice to have a private moment for Georgette and I to talk and share everything that has transpired since our last parting.

  Diana had not felt that it was safe to send her word of Gab
riel via letter for fear that her parents might read it.

  “What are you thinking about? You have the oddest expression on your face,” the Dowager Marchioness demanded to know, her mood sour with the discomfort of the journey.

  “Nothing at all,” Diana shook her head in denial.

  “It is most unladylike to lie,” the Dowager Marchioness reprimanded. “Specially to lie so unconvincingly.”

  Diana sighed and squared her shoulders to face her accuser. She turned to the Dowager Marchioness and met her eyes directly in spite of the knowledge that to do so was ill-advised. She smoothed her face out into a pleasant expression so as not to reveal her annoyance and apologized. She had become quite the expert at masking her true emotions since coming to Westwallow. It had been essential in order to survive her time with the Dowager Marchioness.

  “My apologies, My Lady. I was thinking of reuniting with my sister, Georgette.”

  “She is part of the reason that you were sent to me, was she not?”

  “She was, according to my father.” Diana attempted not to let her anger show, but it was not easy. Her face, on the other hand, must have showed every thought and emotion that she was feeling because the Dowager Marchioness gave her a sharp warning look.

  “It is true that Georgette’s refusal to wed has caused a great deal of strife betwixt she and our father, but that is precisely where it should remain, between them.”

  The Dowager Marchioness gaped like a fish in indignation. “Lest you forget, it was by my permission that your sister will be joining us so that I might have a positive influence upon her as well. I can easily withdraw that permission.”

  “My apologies, My Lady. Please do not deprive my sister of your instruction because of my own shortcomings.” Diana used the words that she knew the Dowager Marchioness would want to hear, though she did not mean any of it.

  The Dowager sat studying Diana’s face for a moment, then nodded. “You are correct in that depriving her of my instruction would be a true shame.” She sat for a moment longer then nodded. “I will allow it, but I will expect better behavior from you in the future.”

  “Yes, My Lady,” Diana agreed, nodding to placate her. Contented, the Dowager leaned back against the cushions and smiled at her son’s raised brow across from her.

  As the carriage bumped along, the Dowager Marchioness’ eyes grew droopy, then closed, and she began to doze, snoring sonorously in time with the jostling of the carriage. The journey to Kilgrave was a long one, especially for those who had to listen to the Dowager Marchioness’ snoring for a large portion of the time, but not being under the Dowager’s scrutiny was a pleasant reprieve. The Marquess, sensing her need for silence, said nothing but stared out of the window at the passing landscape, lost in his own thoughts.

  I sincerely hope that Georgette and Ernest are able to be of comfort to one another in their shared grief. I would very much like to see both of their heart’s burdens eased.

  When they arrived at Kilgrave, Diana launched herself out of the carriage and into her sister’s waiting arms. “Georgette!”

  “Diana!”

  The sisters were overjoyed to be reunited and had no mind to any sense of decorum, embracing each other exuberantly.

  “I have missed you so!”

  “As have I.”

  Their parents came to stand behind them, their father clearing his throat to get his daughters’ attention.

  “Now remember, I am only agreeing to the both of you going on this trip to Wales so that you might learn from my godmother, the Dowager Marchioness, about your duty and place within society. Do not make me regret sending the two of you together,” he chastened sternly, but there was a glint of love and fatherly concern in his eyes that took the edge from his words.

  “Yes, Father,” Diana answered, not wishing to argue with him and make him change his mind about Georgette going with her to Wales.

  “Good,” he nodded his head, pleased that she agreed so quickly. “Now go and make your mother and I proud.”

  “Goodbye, Mother,” the sisters kissed their mother’s cheeks.

  “Perhaps a second carriage would be advisable given the Marquess’ wound,” Diana attempted to sound nonchalant yet filled with compassion.

  “Nonsense, Diana,” her father frowned and shook his head. “If a second carriage were needed, the Marquess would have said so. Now go along.”

  Diana sighed, having been cut short before she had barely begun and they both climbed up into the carriage. “I will return them both home safely to your arms, My Lady,” the Marquess promised their mother.

  “I have no doubts, My Lord,” their mother answered with a smile, blew a kiss to her daughters, and then the carriage was on its way again, bumping along toward Wales.

  Chapter 23

  Ernest sat in surprised silence as he watched Diana launch herself from the carriage into the arms of one of the most enchanting creatures that he had ever seen. Lady Georgette Bexley was every bit as beautiful as his own dearly departed wife had been, and the thought caused him no small amount of guilt. He would have averted his eyes if he could have, but he could not.

  Ernest turned his attention to the sisters, now huddled on the seat together across from him, crowded against his mother who looked quite displeased by the imposition, but oddly enough for her said nothing.

  “Would you be more comfortable with me, Mother?” Ernest offered, taking as much pity upon the sisters as he was his mother.

  “Yes, I think that that would be best,” his mother nodded in acceptance.

  Ernest reached out his hand to her and aided her in making the adjustment. “Perhaps Diana’s idea of a second carriage should have been given more credence.”

  “Nonsense, we are perfectly well as we are,” the Dowager shook her head, unwilling to admit that she was in the wrong, even over something so small.

  Once he had his mother settled in next to him, Ernest turned his attention back to Lady Georgette. Diana and Georgette were both quite similar in every respect, from their slender build and medium height for women, to the silky, light brown hair that reflected different colors of brown, blond, and hints of red in the light. Their most similar and exquisite feature were their amber eyes, the color of good brandy, that were dancing as they laughed one with another.

  The Bexley sisters were nearly identical in appearance, but for one aspect. Where Lady Diana was still blossoming as a youthful rosebud, her sister was a fully-bloomed rose in the height of its glory. In her eyes she held the secrets of the universe, from the deepest of sorrows to the greatest of joys. It was the secret of having loved and lost, a secret that he shared. Lady Georgette looked up and met his eyes, holding them for a moment.

  “Sister, I do not believe that proper introductions have taken place,” Lady Georgette reminded her gently.

  “Ah, yes, forgive me,” Diana smiled fondly. “Please allow me to introduce you.” Diana made a gesture with her hand toward the Dowager Marchioness. “My Lady, may I present my elder sister, Lady Georgette Bexley of Kilgrave. Georgette, this is the much-lauded Theodora, Dowager Marchioness of Westwallow and our father’s godmother.” The two ladies inclined their heads in greeting to one another like two regal swans, each measuring the other with their eyes.

  “My Lady,” Lady Georgette murmured in respect for the other woman’s elder position.

  Diana continued with her introductions, turning her attention to Ernest. “And this is her son, Ernest, Marquess of Westwallow.”

  “A pleasure, My Lady,” Ernest smiled and inclined his head in greeting.

  “My Lord.” Lady Georgette blushed and smiled back at him, inclining her head in turn.

  Had they not been bumping along in a carriage to the point that he would most certainly have made a fool of himself, Ernest would have leaned forward and kissed her hand. He could not help but wonder what her skin felt like. Shaking the thought from his head, he attempted to ignore his body’s response to her beauty, but the soulful look
in her eyes was impossible to forget. Even when he was not looking directly at her, he could still see it in his mind—clear, beautiful, all consuming.

  In an effort to hide his discomfort, he sparked a conversation with her. “Have you ever been to Wales before, Lady Georgette?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “I have not.”

  “Then this should be quite the adventure for you.”

  “Do you visit Wales often, My Lord?”

  “We attempt to go annually whenever possible. It is not Mother’s favorite place to visit, but it is a family tradition that my father started when I was but a babe.”

  “I look forward to seeing your family estate. What is it called? I love place names. I must admit that the first time that I heard the name of your English estate of Westwallow that I thought it was in Hampshire.”