Diana met Alex’s eyes and could not prevent herself from laughing.
* * *
By the time they arrived at Chantreys Diana had never felt so much in charity with the earl. Alex, she thought, recalling how he had invited her to use his name. He handed Diana out and then helped the girls down.
‘Until dinnertime, then,’ he said as she took their hands and prepared to carry them off to the nursery floor.
Diana shook her head.
‘I beg you will excuse us. We have had enough excitement for today, I think. We shall spend a quiet evening upstairs.’
As she turned away he caught her arm.
‘I will excuse Meggie and Florence, but you will join us after dinner.’
Startled, her eyes flew to his face. Immediately he released her and stepped back.
‘That, of course, is an invitation, not an order.’
‘Of course,’ Diana said quietly.
She led the children into the house and handed the little posy Meggie had picked for her to Mrs Wallace to put in water. Then she took the girls upstairs. There was nothing she wanted more than to go down to the drawing room and see Alex again. To discuss the children, talk over the events of the day, continue their earlier discussions, but she knew it was impossible. Every time she saw Alex she was drawn a little further into the net. If she came to look upon him as a friend the pain would be so much worse when he went away again. And go away he would. His world was a bright, colourful one full of beauty and balls and, and people. Hers was the life of a recluse.
To go into society, to be laughed at, mocked, pitied—it would destroy her just as surely as the quiet domesticity of her existence would destroy Alex. And if they could not be friends, then what? Lovers? She shivered. It might amuse him to make her his mistress, but she knew enough of the world to be sure that when the new Lord Davenport married, his choice would not be an insignificant little cripple but an accomplished society beauty. Someone like Lady Frances Betsford. Diana prayed he would not choose Frances. She detected a coldness beneath that beautiful exterior. Alex deserved someone who would love him, someone who would love Meggie and Florence, too, and make them a part of their family.
And she would no longer be needed.
Suddenly the leaden weight inside her was almost too heavy to carry. Diana stumbled. Florence and Meggie looked at her in alarm.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she murmured, trying to smile. ‘I am more tired than I thought. Thank goodness I have you two big girls to help me.’
Somehow she managed to get them up the last few stairs to the top floor where Nurse was waiting for them.
‘Well, well, my dearies, have you enjoyed yourselves?’
‘I have the belly-ache,’ Meggie informed her.
‘Is that right, Lady Margaret? Well, that’s no surprise. I am sure you are both so stuffed full of good things that you will not want your dinner tonight, is that not so, Miss Grensham?’ Nurse’s keen old eyes narrowed. ‘And you look as if you are about to drop, miss, if you don’t mind my saying.’ She did not wait for Diana to reply but held her hands out to the children. ‘Now, miss, you leave the little ones to me and you go and lie down upon your bed before you fall down. Blessed if I’s ever seen you so pale afore.’
‘I think I will go to bed,’ said Diana. ‘I informed his lordship that the children would not be going downstairs this evening.’
‘I should think not,’ Nurse agreed. ‘Why, they will never sleep tonight if they has any more excitement. I shall give them a light supper and then put them to bed. Never you fret, miss, Nurse’ll look after them, and you, too, my dear.’
The old servant’s kindness was almost too much to bear. With a little nod Diana escaped to her room where she curled up on her bed and lay, unmoving, as the sun travelled across the floor and the day slid silently into night.
* * *
She was not coming. Above the chatter of the drawing room Alex heard the tinkling chimes of the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf. Dinner had been over for more than an hour and there was no sign of Diana. He prowled restlessly about the room, refusing to play cards and only pretending to pay attention when Lady Frances moved to the harpsichord and played a series of Italian songs with flawless precision. A dozen times during the long hours of the evening he almost sent word to the top floor with a message that Miss Grensham was to come downstairs, and when at last the party broke up and everyone made their way up to their bedchambers he was tempted to go and find her, to assure himself that she was not ill. But he did not.
He could not fool himself into thinking she had been taken ill and in need of him. Nurse lived up on the top floor and she had ruled the nursery since he and James had been young. Alex did not doubt that she was more than capable of looking after Diana and the children. He had to face facts. Diana had not come downstairs because she did not wish to do so.
Chapter Eight
The light pouring into the bedroom woke Diana. It was a glorious clear dawn and the rising sun reflected off the gilded plasterwork around the edge of the ceiling. She lay quietly, allowing herself to wake up slowly. One more day and the house party would be gone. Alex would be gone. She would have the house to herself again. She was relieved, but she was also aware of a vague feeling of depression. There was no doubt she had enjoyed some aspects of having adults in the house, in spite of Lady Frances’s barbed comments and the uncomfortable feelings that the earl aroused in her. She had especially enjoyed the conversation. Not only with the earl, yesterday, although that had been exceptional, but in the drawing room each evening. She had spent most of the time listening but occasionally she had expressed her views, even though they must have thought her horridly unworldly. She would miss the conversation.
‘But not so very much,’ she said aloud as she scrambled out of bed. ‘It will be a relief to be able to go where I want, when I want. In the meantime, life must go on and I must pick fresh flowers for the morning room.’
* * *
‘Why did you not come downstairs last night?’
Diana jumped. She was in the rose garden, cutting the early blooms, and had not heard the earl approaching. Nerves made her clumsy and she winced as a thorn pricked her thumb. She replied without turning, ‘I was fatigued, sir.’
‘You are bleeding.’ He reached out to take her hand and she was obliged to face him. He was too close, his presence too powerful and with an undignified squeak she pulled her hand away.
‘I can deal with this!’
‘Then do so,’ he retorted irritably. ‘Else you will have blood on your gown.’
She hesitated, uncertain. He was right, she had no wish to stain her cream-muslin gown. In desperation she put her thumb to her mouth.
* * *
A powerful wave of sheer lust surged through Alex. Did she not know how provocative she looked, standing there with that half-frightened, half-defiant look in her eyes and her thumb between those cherry-red lips? The children’s presence in the house had damped his ardour for Lady Frances but it was doing nothing to quench his desire for Diana. He dragged a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘Here, bind it up with this.’
‘Thank you, but I think it has stopped.’ She removed her thumb from her mouth and inspected it. ‘Yes. It was only a little wound. Nothing serious.’
Her attempt at a smile made him want to take her in his arms. He harrumphed and stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket.
‘What are you doing out here so early?’
She waved at the basket on the ground beside her.
‘The flowers in the morning room need replacing.’
‘Do we not have gardeners for that? Or Mrs Wallace could do it.’
‘Mrs Wallace is busy enough with a house full of guests.’ She selected another rose to cut. ‘I could ask the gardeners
to fetch the flowers for me, but they do not know exactly what is required. It is not a chore,’ she added quickly, anticipating his next objection. ‘I enjoy arranging the flowers in the house. It is a task I have done ever since I came to Chantreys. Margaret...’ She paused, as if struck with a momentary pain at the mention of her sister. ‘Margaret never liked the task and was happy to let me do it.’
He watched her carefully snip off two more yellow blooms and lay them gently in the basket.
‘What was the real reason you did not come to the drawing room last night?’
* * *
Diana’s hand hovered over another rose while she decided on her answer.
Tell the truth and shame the devil, Diana.
She said quietly, ‘The picnic was ordeal enough.’
‘Ordeal? Was anyone unkind to you?’
‘No.’
‘Was the company not to your taste? I thought you enjoyed yourself.’
‘I did, for the most part.’ She put the final rose and her scissors in the basket and picked it up.
‘So what was it you did not like?’
‘I—’ a heartbeat’s pause ‘—I do not like being gawped at.’
She turned to make her way back through the rose garden towards the north front, where a solid wooden door gave access directly to the staircase hall. Alex fell into step beside her.
‘I do not understand you.’
She waved a hand towards her skirts, saying impatiently, ‘My leg. This horrid halting step.’
‘I did not even notice.’
‘You may be sure your guests did. And it is even worse indoors. I am aware of it every time I enter the drawing room.’
‘Perhaps they did notice it, when they met you for the first time. By now I wager they do not even think of it.’
She felt the hot tears pricking at her eyes.
‘You are very kind, my lord, but—’
‘Kind! Why should I be kind?’
His response was so typical of the man she was beginning to know that she was surprised into a laugh, but answered bitterly, ‘True. It is much more likely that you brought your friends here to laugh and ridicule me, so that I will give up all claim to Chantreys.’
With an oath Alex caught her arm and swung her round to face him.
‘Do you truly think I would do anything so base?’
It was not his glare or his angry words that caused her to blush and look away, but her own shame at suggesting he might do such a thing.
She said quietly, ‘No, I do not think it, my lord. I beg your pardon.’
‘You are back to calling me “my lord”? I thought we were past that.’
When she did not reply he put a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him.
‘I do not deny I want you and the children out of this house, but I told you at the outset that you would go willingly. Proudly,’ he added. ‘With your head held high.’ His eyes narrowed, they bored into her as he said slowly, ‘I do not see you as a cripple, Diana Grensham. I see you as an opponent worthy of my mettle. This will be a battle of wits, madam.’
Diana swallowed. He must be joking her, but there was no mockery in his hard eyes. It was a serious challenge, one adult to another. Equals. The thought was strangely uplifting. She replied cautiously, ‘I have told you I have no intention of leaving Chantreys, Lord Davenport.’
‘And I have every intention of changing your mind.’
His finger was no longer holding up her chin, she was meeting his gaze of her own accord and she did not feel at a disadvantage.
‘How?’ she asked, intrigued.
‘That is my affair.’ He released her and they began to walk on towards the house.
‘But you promise the girls will not be distressed?’
‘You have my word. By the end of the summer you will be agreeing with me that their best interests would be served by moving them elsewhere.’
She considered that.
‘I do not see how that will happen, unless you trick me with some magic potion?’
‘Something like that.’
She chuckled. ‘Like Titania and Oberon in Shakespeare’s play.’
‘That ended very happily for everyone concerned.’
‘So it did’ she replied cordially. ‘But that, Lord Davenport, was a play, a fairy tale.’ They had reached the north front. Diana ran up the three steps to the door but stopped on the top one and turned to face him. For once she was looking down upon him. ‘I think you will find real life will not work out quite so well for you.’
She held her ground, maintaining her smile even when she saw the disturbing glint in his eyes. He mounted the steps towards her and for one fearful moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Again.
She held her basket of roses before her like a shield with one hand while she reached behind with the other, scrabbling to find the door handle. She was trapped on the steps, the only escape was through the door and she could not open it! The menacing glint in the earl’s hard grey eyes deepened and changed to unholy amusement as he observed her panic. He was on the top step now, towering over her, only the flimsy wicker basket was keeping them apart. Her pulse fluttered erratically and her heart was hammering so hard it threatened to unbalance her. A moment ago she had felt so strong and in control, but he had turned the tables on her. Nervously she ran her tongue over her lips and prayed that her knees would not give way. She was at his mercy as he leaned closer, a dangerous smile curving his lips.
‘Allow me,’ he murmured, his mouth so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Her whole body froze.
He reached behind her and she heard the soft click as he opened the door.
‘After you, Miss Grensham.’
If she had fallen from a tree she could not have felt more winded. He was not going to kiss her. She was not going to faint. Indignation rushed in. He had been teasing her, toying with her. She gave a little huff of anger but the gleam was still in those hard eyes and she knew it would be unsafe to remain. In fact, it would be positively hazardous. Without another word she turned and fled.
* * *
Alex watched Diana run off into the house. What a strange, jumbled mixture of parts she was. Shy and reserved, reclusive even, but he had experienced for himself her passionate nature. She was mentor and instructress to Meggie and Florence while little more than a child herself. She was not afraid to stand up to him, yet she was so painfully conscious of her slight impediment that she shunned company.
He shook his head as he went in and closed the door behind him. What had possessed him to invite her to engage him in a battle of wits over where the children should live? He should have told her instead to prepare to move out. Teasing her like that was only prolonging the inevitable but, confound it, he could not bear to see that wounded look in her eyes. It did not matter. When the time came, she would leave Chantreys and he would be able to get on with his life.
* * *
Diana ran directly into the morning room and quickly closed the door. She leaned against it, feeling much more weak and breathless than one would expect from such a short spell of exertion. It was Alex, of course. He was the cause of this heady, excited feeling. She did not believe that he deliberately set out to flirt with her, yet how else could she explain that wicked gleam in his eye, or the provocative things he had said to her? Perhaps he thought she knew how to play those games, but flirting was something she had never learned. No one had ever tried to flirt with her before, men were more inclined to avoid her, or turn away in embarrassment.
As soon as she thought her legs would move again she walked to the table where there was a pretty jug waiting to be ornamented with the roses she had cut. She began to trim the stem of each butter-yellow bloom and place it in the jug. She had to admit that Alex had ne
ver exhibited any embarrassment in her presence. Perhaps he was telling the truth when he said he did not notice her disfigurement. She had to admit she forgot it herself, when she was playing with the children, or in the company of good friends whom she had known for years.
She had even forgotten it in the earl’s presence, more than once. Just now, for example, when he had called her an opponent worthy of his mettle. That was pure foolishness, of course. Alex was merely being kind. She slowly added another rose to the jug. He had said on more than one occasion that he was not renowned for being kind. But if not kind, what had he meant? She shook her head. The man was an enigma, she could not make him out at all. Yet there was no doubting that he made her forget that she was a cripple, that she had one leg shorter than the other.
But had she? It occurred to her that she had never questioned it before. Diana put down her scissors and placed her hands on the table top. She consciously adjusted her weight until it was spread evenly between both her feet. She was so used to favouring her left leg, keeping the weight from it when walking or standing, that she felt the strain immediately in her calf muscles, but both heels were on the floor. Perhaps the difference was not so great, after all...
‘Oh! I beg your pardon.’
Diana swung around at the sound of the soft voice, blushing as if she had been caught doing something reprehensible.
‘Do come in, Lady Frances. I was just replacing the flowers in here.’
‘Pray, do not let me keep you from your work.’ Lady Frances moved forward, the skirts of her pale-blue riding habit billowing slightly as she glided into the room. ‘Lord Davenport is taking me driving this morning. He is gone to fetch the curricle but there is such a chill wind sprung up I thought I would wait here by the window until he brings it to the door.’
‘Oh, yes, yes, of course.’ Diana trimmed the final few roses and added them to the arrangement before placing it carefully in the centre of the table.
‘How pretty,’ remarked Lady Frances, in the same patronising tone she used for the children. ‘I am sure the earl appreciates your efforts here, Miss Grensham. Alexander is a great lover of all things beautiful. He has acquired quite a collection of works of art, did you know?’
Temptation of a Governess Page 11
