by Laura Landon
“Clever girl,” he breathed aloud, realizing now that she hadn’t torn apart his handkerchief, but rather the skirt of her gown to create a ruse.
And for what purpose, except to keep his secret?
Hope bubbled inside of him, even as he tried to tamp it down. In his experience, it was best to expect the worst and prepare accordingly.
He certainly hadn’t prepared for Miss Diana Harwood to trip over him and knock his breath away. Nor for the way his body had reacted to her pressing against him, his unexpected physical desire battling with the pain to his ribs.
And yet, she’d arrived at the perfect moment. He couldn’t risk getting caught with the packet, not when he was being followed.
A strange sensation on his temple made him gingerly touch the wound there. His fingers came away sticky with fresh blood.
No wonder his head was pounding. But someone was on to him, which meant he couldn’t give in to the tempting lure of unconsciousness.
“Your gown is of no consequence, my dear Diana,” Aunt Sterling said. “We can have another made. Let us go inside now, I believe the last dance is about to start.”
“You go ahead, Aunt,” Diana told her. “I will join you soon.”
“Very well.” Aunt Sterling reached out to pat her niece’s arm before picking up her gold taffeta skirts to hurry back into the ballroom.
He watched Miss Harwood slowly turn in his direction, her gaze seeming to stare straight at him. He didn’t move, certain he was concealed by the tree.
Yet, he could see her quite well in the moonlight and from the torches lighting the garden terrace.
Her heart-shaped face was unique. Not pretty in the conventional sense, but chiseled like the finest sculpture, from her high cheek bones to her finely arched eyebrows, strong chin, and perfect aquiline nose.
In that moment, she reminded him of a statue of Diana—Roman Goddess of the Hunt—he’d once seen in Italy. Strong and tall and imposing. All she needed was a white toga, with a bow and quiver of arrows to make the picture complete.
The pain was making him fanciful, or perhaps he’d simply been alone for too long. But that was absolutely necessary given his occupation. He lived his life on the edge of danger and caring for someone might be used against him—putting those he loved at great risk.
At last, he watched her turn and disappear into the ballroom. He waited a moment, then stepped back into the darkness, trying to summon every bit of his fortitude for the long night ahead.
CHAPTER THREE
During the carriage ride home, Diana’s worries that she’d be questioned about her long absence from the ballroom came to naught. She didn’t need to say a word, because her sisters and aunt were chattering like magpies.
“Have you ever seen a gentleman as handsome as Captain Barrett?” Louisa said, sitting across from Diana and their aunt. “So tall. So handsome. So…everything!”
Not as tall or handsome as Mr. Lanford, Diana thought to herself, then shifted in her seat, unnerved by the effect he’d had on her.
Louisa clasped her hands together with a happy sigh. “He danced with no other girl after his two dances with me. We just talked and talked. Well, I did most of the talking.” She flashed a brilliant smile. “He’s a wonderful listener, as well.”
“Mr. Haverly didn’t seem to enjoy his conversation,” Fanny teased. “In fact, he looked quite put out.”
Louisa sniffed. “I do not care much for Mr. Haverly. I know he is one of Bertie’s friends, as is the Captain. Haverly may seem polite and charming at first, but I find he’s not very gentlemanly.” She glanced at Diana and tipped up her chin. “I don’t like him at all.”
While Diana appreciated her sister’s loyalty, the last thing she wanted to talk about was her rejection on the dance floor. What she really wanted to talk about was the kiss. In fact, she’d thought of little else since.
Do all men kiss like that? She had no idea, since no man had ever kissed her on the mouth before. And what were those odd sensations that had coursed through her? Certainly not love, since she’d never met Mr. Lanford before this evening.
Was it lust?
Diana had sat through enough Sunday sermons to know that lust was a sin and very wicked. And perhaps she did feel slightly wicked, but more about deceiving her aunt than kissing Mr. Henry Lanford.
She sighed, a little louder than she intended, and saw Louisa give her a sympathetic smile. Her sister obviously assumed she was still upset about the incident with Mr. Haverly, but nothing could be further from the truth.
Diana didn’t care one whit about Haverly anymore. She actually had a secret—no, make that two secrets—to keep her mind fully occupied.
The first was her unexpected and quite unladylike meeting with Mr. Lanford and that kiss. And the second was the mysterious packet he’d given her. She placed one hand atop her velvet reticule and heard the barely perceptible sound of paper crinkling. She’d placed the packet inside the reticule as soon as she’d reentered the ballroom, taking care to conceal it from Aunt Sterling’s watchful gaze.
But why had Mr. Lanford chosen her to keep it for him? What could be so important that he’d trust a stranger? He knew nothing about her other than her name. And she hadn’t told him she’d be leaving Wiltshire first thing in the morning, with no plans to return.
She leaned dreamily back against the carriage as her sisters and aunt recalled the events of the evening. It was certainly one she’d never forget.
When Diana noticed Louisa watching her with a furrowed brow, she straightened in her seat and focused on the conversation.
“The finest gentleman in the room was your Bertram, Fanny,” Aunt Sterling said with a happy nod of approval. “I’m so pleased Sir William agreed to my suggestion that he hold a ball in honor of your engagement. After all, you’ll be leaving the neighborhood tomorrow and with winter upon us soon, who knows when you’ll return again?”
“It might not be for a very long time.” Fanny looked at each one of them, her chin quivering. “I shall miss you all so much. You must promise to visit me often at Marwick Manor and stay as long as you like.” Tears suddenly shimmered in her eyes. “Bertie says we shall have a whole wing to ourselves and plenty of rooms for visitors.”
Diana reached across the narrow space between them and squeezed Fanny’s hand. “You needn’t worry, Fanny. You and Bertie are both so affable that you will always have guests in your home.”
Even as she said the words, Diana knew she wouldn’t be one of them. The wedding was in two weeks, and she planned to leave for India the day after the ceremony.
Heaven only knew where else she might travel after she reached her destination. Mrs. Smithers Watson had even hinted about taking a trip to the ancient city of Thebes. Strange how the thought of leaving England both thrilled her and saddened her.
Adventure came with risk, she told herself. Which meant it was quite possible she might never see her family again.
Fanny blinked away her tears and her mouth curved into a small, shaky smile. “Yes, you are right, Diana. I have a bit of nerves, is all. I always do late at night.”
“As do I, my dear,” Aunt Sterling said. “It’s the darkness that leads to fanciful thinking, I believe. I much prefer the light of day.
Fanny turned to Diana. “And speaking of the dark, that reminds me. Our friend, Clara Plankett, sought me out and told me she saw you walk right past her in the garden and disappear into the dark. Where did you go?”
Before Diana could reply, Louisa chimed in. “I saw you leave too,” she admitted. “I thought you might need a breath of fresh air after speaking with Mr. Haverly. But when you didn’t come back, I told Aunt Sterling and she went looking for you.”
Diana hadn’t realized anyone had missed her. “I found it rather warm in the ballroom and simply wanted to walk in the cool air.”
“But why did you leave the garden?” Fanny asked, more persistent than usual. “Clara said it looked like you were fleeing someone.”
“Then Clara has a wild imagination,” Diana said, tightening her grip on her reticule. “Perhaps that explains her tendency to sound like a character from one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s gothic novels. You know I like a brisk walk and there is very little danger—or anything else—to be found in Pembury.”
Even as she said the words, she recalled Mr. Lanford warning her of the danger in the dark. What exactly had he meant by it?
“Still, I don’t like you girls walking alone at night,” Aunt Sterling interjected. “It isn’t proper. And you took a fall, Diana, and could have injured yourself without any of us the wiser.”
“A fall?” Fanny cried. “Are you hurt?
“No, not all,” Diana assured her. “I fell on soft ground.” She decided not to admit that a man had been between her and that soft ground.
There were certainly parts of Mr. Lanford that had not been soft. She’d never forget the feel of his sinewy body pressed against hers. The firm set of his mouth and square jaw. And the way he’d lifted her without any effort at all, as if she were small and dainty.
Diana opened her fan and began to wave it in front of her.
“Well, I’m so relieved you weren’t hurt,” Louisa said with a smile. “We wouldn’t want anything to ruin Fanny’s wedding.”
Diana took the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “Tell me again, Fanny, who you and Bertie are expecting to attend the wedding and what the schedule will be.”
“Oh, of course,” Fanny said, warming to her favorite subject. “I can’t believe the day is almost upon us! The four of us will arrive tomorrow, of course. And three of Bertie’s friends will be there, including Mr. Haverly and Captain Barrett,” she said with a glance at Louisa. “They all boarded together years ago under the tutelage of a Mr. Ottley in Brighton.”
“So it will just be a small, cozy party the first week,” said Aunt Sterling. “How delightful. And so kind of Lord and Lady Marwick, especially given her recent illness.”
“Poor Lady Marwick,” Louisa mused. “She had a strange fever and now has trouble walking, doesn’t she?”
Fanny nodded. “Yes, there is a weakness in her legs and the doctor will not allow her to go far from the manor.”
“Will Bertie’s brother be there as well?” Diana asked.
“Yes, and Andrew is so much like Bertie, and quite kind to me.” Fanny smiled. “I believe you will like him very much.”
As the conversation turned to the events planned around the wedding day, Diana gazed out the carriage window and saw that the moon now cast a milky glow over the countryside.
“Goodbye,” she whispered, feeling both wistful and excited. It was a time for new beginnings and Diana couldn’t wait to leave Pembury and her old life behind.
. . .
Marwick Manor stood at the top of a hill and looked more like a castle than a country estate. Tall turrets bracketed each corner and three rows of long windows promised plenty of natural light.
The carriage passed stone farmhouses and cozy cottages as they made their way up the hill. The view was magnificent, and all four women were peering out the carriage windows.
“My, this is something,” Aunt Sterling breathed, finally breaking the reverent silence that had fallen over them when Marwick Manor first came into view.
Fanny had visited Bertie’s home once before, in the company of Lady Bassett, who lived in Pembury and was well acquainted with Bertie’s mother. But this was the first time Diana, Louisa, and Aunt Sterling had seen it.
“I must say, Fanny,” Louisa exclaimed, her neck craning out the open window. “Your description of Bertie’s home was quite lacking.”
“I agree,” Diana said with a smile. “It really is quite lovely. You must paint it someday.”
“I shall,” Fanny agreed. “And I am so pleased you all approve.”
At last, the carriage came to a stop in front of the manor and a footman rushed forward to open the carriage door as other servants began to remove their trunks and valises.
Aunt Sterling reached up to straighten her bonnet. “Before we leave here, you will be a married woman, Fanny. Imagine that!”
As she descended the carriage, Diana saw the stately double doors of the manor swing open. Bertie appeared in the doorway and bounded down the steps to greet them. He was followed by an older gentleman who moved more slowly, and bringing up the rear was a young gentleman who looked so much like Bertie with his wavy blonde locks and lanky frame that Diana knew it must be Andrew, his younger brother.
“You’ve arrived at last,” Bertie exclaimed, greeting all of them with a smile and a friendly bow, but his gaze was fixed on Fanny. “I’ve been counting the minutes.”
He made the introductions and Diana found Andrew and Lord Marwick as friendly as Bertie himself
“You have a very grand and lovely house, Lord Marwick,” Aunt Sterling said. “Thank you so much for inviting us to stay here.”
“It is our pleasure, Mrs. Sterling. And thanks to my wife’s good taste, the manor is just as lovely on the inside. Lady Marwick is very anxious to meet you all,” Lord Marwick continued, “and she insisted I take you to the drawing room first.”
Diana glanced at Fanny, who looked more excited than nervous now, and she was happy to see it. Fanny would be mistress of this house someday and would delight in the duties that entailed.
Lord Marwick offered Aunt Sterling his arm while Bertie followed, escorting Fanny. Andrew walked up to Diana and Louisa with a broad smile. “Ladies, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you both?”
“Of course,” Diana and Louisa chorused.
As eager as she was to begin her new adventure in India, Diana was looking forward to the next two weeks and planned to enjoy every moment of them. Nothing would give her more pleasure than to see Fanny happily wed and enmeshed in the bosom of her new husband’s family.
As Lord Marwick led the way to the drawing room, Diana barely had time to marvel at the high painted ceilings, elaborate chandeliers, and grand staircase that greeted them when they stepped inside the house.
Sunlight poured through the open draperies on the many windows, casting a golden glow on the polished wood floor and highlighting the gold filigree ornamentation on the grand staircase that stood in the center of the manor.
“Welcome!” cried a woman’s voice as the group made their way through open double doors into the main drawing room.
Once inside, Diana saw a petite woman rise slowly from the sofa, one hand curled around the head of her cane. She was polished to perfection, from the perfect coiffure of her silver-gray hair to the silver-gray gown she wore. Diamond-encrusted pearls circled her slender neck and sparkled in the sunlight.
Lord Marwick made the introductions, then Lady Marwick invited them all to take a seat and rest from their long journey.
“I want to welcome you to Marwick Manor,” she said, smiling at each one of them in turn. “Bertie has told me so much about you all that I feel I know you already. And Fanny, my dear, you look even lovelier than the last time you were here.” She held out one hand and Fanny took it and leaned down to kiss the woman’s cheek.”
“Thank you, Lady Marwick,” Fanny said sweetly. “As do you.”
A chorus of male voices sounded outside the drawing room and Lord Marwick chuckled. “It sounds like the ruffians have returned.”
“Ruffians?” Aunt Sterling echoed.
“That’s father’s nickname for my friends, I’m afraid,” Bertie explained with a grin. “I’ll admit the name fit when we were younger, but now….”
“The lot of you are even worse,” Lord Marwick said with a smile. “Especially when you’re all together.”
Diana turned to see three gentlemen about Bertie’s age walk into the room. Captain Barrett and Mr. Haverly led the way, their faces lighting up when they saw Louisa and moved toward her.
Then the third man came into view and Diana realized he wasn’t a stranger. It was Mr. Henry Lanford.
&nbs
p; Their gazes locked and she felt an odd fluttering in her chest.
But was it Mr. Lanford? He wore even finer clothes than the man who had kissed her, and his chestnut hair wasn’t in disarray. But the deep blue eyes were exactly the same and the way he looked at her told Diana that she hadn’t been mistaken.
“You are just in time,” Bertie greeted his friends. “I know Haverly and Barrett attended the ball in Pembury last evening, but allow me once again to introduce Mrs. Sterling, Miss Diana Harwood, Miss Fanny Harwood, and Miss Louisa Harwood.
The men bowed low and Diana’s gaze was fixed on Mr. Lanford. He did not seem surprised to see her, but as Bertie’s friend, he would have known Bertie was marrying a Harwood girl and recognized the name when Diana had introduced herself. So why hadn’t he mentioned it last evening?
And why hadn’t he come into the ballroom, since he was right there. Of course, he’d been in no condition to walk, much less dance.
Diana held her breath as Bertie turned to introduce Mr. Lanford.
“And this is another good friend of mine,” Bertie continued, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Colin Sinclair, Marquess of Thorne and Viscount Thorne.”
Diana looked around, waiting for everyone to laugh. Surely Bertie had just made a jest.
But no one laughed.
Lord Thorne bowed, then straightened and met her gaze once more. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, ladies,” he said. “And something I have long looked forward to.”
Diana barely heard the conversation whirling around her. She felt like the world’s greatest fool. Had she dreamed their awkward meeting? His kiss?
No, it had been real.
Now Thorne wasn’t looking at her at all, but had turned his back and was laughing with Barrett.
Laughing at her?
In that moment, Diana couldn’t seem to breathe. She fought for control and sought a reason to exit the room. She turned and saw Lady Marwick ring for the housekeeper, and breathed a sigh that her escape was imminent.
“I am certain you are all fatigued from the long journey,” Lady Marwick said, her compassionate gaze moving from Diana to Aunt Sterling and her sisters, “and would like to rest before dinner.”
