The Earl of Ice

by Helen A. Grant

  Tilly returned to awaken and dress Diana in time for dinner. When she entered the drawing room, she found her parents and Caroline already waiting and shortly after that Lady Colpert arrived. Then Oliver and the Earl of Brockwood made their entrance.

  Rollo, observing Diana shy away nervously when his brother approached her, quickly revised the seating arrangement. It would not do to have Oliver seated next to her.

  Dinner was a quiet affair with the guests still showing fatigue from their long journey. Following the meal, when the men retired to the library for brandy and cigars, the ladies begged leave to go straight to their bedchambers.

  The first few days at Brockwood Hall passed quickly. Diana saw very little of her father and the earl as they conducted their business. She kept out of Oliver’s way, feeling fearful whenever he approached her. She knew this to be irrational but could not prevent herself.

  One day Oliver offered to show the ladies around the estate, which Caroline, her mother and Diana’s own mother accepted. They were found suitable mounts and spent the afternoon exploring the estate and surrounding countryside. Diana, although she loved riding, feared that she would make poor company and chose to remain at the Hall. Besides, she could avail herself of the library, her favourite haunt. The familiar smell of the leather-covered books soothed her and with a small volume in hand, she curled up in an old leather armchair facing the stone fireplace.

  Engrossed in the poetry of Dorothy Wordsworth, Diana did not hear the library door open but knew that she was no longer alone when the sound of two male voices reached her ears. She identified one voice as Rollo’s and the other, she determined, must belong to his estate manager.

  “The Smyths have failed to pay their rent for six weeks now. We must take action,” she heard the manager tell Rollo.

  “The family have worked that farm since my grandfather’s time and have never, in the past, failed to pay the rent. Is there a reason?” questioned Rollo.

  Diana realized that the men had not noticed her presence in the room as they continued their conversation.

  “The old man passed away last year and it is his son, Simon Smythe, who has taken over the running of the farm. He has been late in his payments and recently has paid no rent at all. We cannot sustain this.”

  There was a pause in the conversation and a rustle of papers.

  “I ask again, do you know why this should be so?” Rollo persisted.

  “Simon took ill in the spring and his wife was with child and could not do the heavy work. The crop, left untended, failed, and now they have no harvest to sell. We will get no rent from them for some weeks to come,” explained the estate manager.

  There was another pause whilst Rollo considered the situation.

  “Is he well and able to work now?”

  “Yes, I believe so, but it is too late for a crop this year.”

  “Does he now keep the land tended?” It seemed that Rollo was gathering all the facts.

  “Yes, I believe so. I hear he is a good worker, as is his wife, although she now has the baby to attend to.”

  “In that case, perhaps we can give them time to come about. If Simon will agree to an increase in rent after his harvest next year to cover some of this year’s losses, I would find that acceptable. I would not like to turn a hard-working young family out of their home. The estate can absorb the loss of his rent for this year.”

  Diana’s eyes filled with tears at the compassion shown by a man known to all as the Earl of Ice. Again her belief that there was a kind man beneath the cold demeanour was confirmed.

  Realizing that the men were not just passing through the room but continuing their business, she felt she should alert them to her presence. She gave a small cough.

  Rollo immediately responded, “Excuse us, Miss Wells, I had no idea you were using this room. I apologize for intruding on your solitude.”

  What a shame she is cooped up in the library, he thought, instead of enjoying the fresh air and sunshine with the others. His heart went out to her.

  “You have not disturbed me. I was reading the poem ‘Floating Island,’” Diana explained, “and I was so engrossed that I did not hear you enter the room. I have finished the poem now and so will go for a walk in the garden and leave you to your business.”

  Rollo noticing how pale she looked and thought that some fresh air would be beneficial to her. “My business is concluded. It would be my pleasure to show you around the garden, if you could bear some company?”

  Diana, although wary of Oliver, trusted Rollo completely and would welcome his company. “If you are sure? I will call my maid and get my outdoor shoes and cape.”

  Diana’s smile was enough for Rollo not to regret his offer. He could afford an hour of his time.

  That hour proved most enjoyable for both Rollo and Diana. The sun, although not hot, was pleasant, and a gentle breeze tugged softly at Diana’s bonnet as they strolled through the formal gardens.

  “These gardens were laid out in the style of Capability Brown, the great eighteenth-century landscape architect,” explained Rollo. “It was my grandparents who oversaw the design of the gardens. My own father was more interested in the expansion of the deer park.”

  “The flowers are so pretty and the fountains magnificent,” Diana enthused. The four five-tier stone fountains that centred each of the four formal flower beds were ornately carved, and great quantities of water cascaded from one tier to the next. A fifth fountain was in the centre of the garden, and it, too, had the same five-tiered design, although the height and circumference was much larger. The flower beds were a riot of colourful blooms inside neatly clipped low box hedging.

  “The fountains are of Italian design, and the water is pumped from a lake over yonder.” Rollo pointed to a lake just visible in the distance.

  “May we visit the rose garden we passed earlier?” asked Diana. Roses were her favourite flowers.

  Mentally kicking himself for not having asked Diana if she had any preference for their walk, Rollo was quick to agree. “Of course. The rose garden was also my grandmother’s favourite. I can remember her spending many hours sitting there.”

  They walked in companionable silence and Rollo held open the gate for Diana to pass through into the rose garden. As she brushed by him, without thinking, he placed his hand on her back to guide her through the narrow opening. Her back stiffened in surprise as she felt a tingling sensation race through her. But she did not feel fear. She found the sensation pleasant and turned and smiled up at him.

  Her smile and soft brown eyes had a strange effect on Rollo. A sudden urge to take her into his arms swept over him. It was so strong, in fact, that he had to quickly pull his hand away and clasp his hands behind his back to prevent him from doing anything so untoward.

  Diana led the way along a narrow path to an ornamental stone bench, where they sat for a while with the heavy scent of roses assailing their senses. It came into Diana’s mind that she would never again be able to smell roses without thinking of this moment and the handsome Earl of Ice.

  Rollo was more than ever aware of Diana’s presence, despite the distance of at least a foot between them. He glanced at her face half-hidden from view by her bonnet. Her lashes shadowed her flushed cheeks, and a wayward lock of hair had escaped from under her bonnet to curl enticingly over her ear. He noticed how very dainty and perfect that ear was, and had to stifle the strong urge to trace the delicate shell with a finger. With a shock he realized that he was in danger of becoming seriously attracted to this young lady. He must take care.

  Diana found herself wishing that she could feel the earl’s hand on her back again. Or perhaps on her arm. Goodness, what a thought! Despite the perfume of the roses, she thought she could discern the clean sandalwood scent that seemed to be part of him, subtle but very pleasant. She couldn’t help but notice his fine hands, the long fingers tipped with trimmed and scrupulously clean fingernails, resting on his thighs. Trying not to let him see the direction of h
er gaze, she glanced at the muscular thighs clad in tight-fitted breeches and felt a little shiver of awareness course through her. My, but he was a well-formed man! How had she never noticed that before? She felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  “I must thank you again for bringing forward my father’s visit to your home and extending the invitation to us all,” she said, needing to break the silence and regain her equilibrium. “You seem to be always coming to my rescue.”

  She was looking up at him, smiling, her soft brown eyes drowning him. For a moment Rollo felt disoriented. What had she said? Oh, yes…rescue …

  “Oh, hardly that,” he said a little tightly. What the deuce was wrong with him? “It was my pleasure to be of help. I was aware of your desire to leave London, and to tell you the truth, I welcomed the excuse to leave myself.”

  “You don’t enjoy the season, then?” Diana probed. She couldn’t imagine anyone not enjoying all the ton activities.

  Rollo’s lips curled in a self-deprecating smile. “It is difficult to enjoy activities where one feels much like a deer being stalked and hunted down.”

  Diana chuckled. “No, I suppose not. But then you seem to have the knack for warding off even the most determined huntresses. Though—” she paused “—one would suppose that one day, you will have to give in if you are to have an heir.”

  Rollo stiffened beside her. “Just so. If I intended to have an heir.”

  Diana realized she had obviously said something to upset him. “I am sorry. I was just—”

  But Rollo had taken out his pocket watch and announced, “I think it is time we returned to the house. The sun will soon be going down and it will get chilly.” He stood and offered his arm.

  Diana gingerly took the proffered arm. She remonstrated with herself for spoiling the interlude. For a short while she had been distracted and forgotten her problems. She was grateful to Rollo for his company. Why couldn’t she have kept her thoughts to herself?

  * * *

  The next few days the men were busy with business matters and the ladies had only one another for company. It was the Countess of Brockwood who, at midweek, gently chastised Rollo for neglecting his female guests. She suggested that the men put business aside for a day and that they all ride out on Friday afternoon, two days hence, to Spartan Top, a hill that overlooked their land to the south of the estate. She would arrange for a picnic to be taken to a spot where they could enjoy the magnificent views.

  And so that night, following the evening meal when the men rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, they began to make plans. Rollo, aware that Diana had not ridden out with the others during her stay, gently inquired, “Are you happy to ride horseback, Miss Wells? Sparton Top is a difficult place to reach otherwise, but I can arrange for you to travel by cart if you would prefer.”

  Caroline immediately jumped in. “Diana is the most accomplished rider of my acquaintance.” She turned to her cousin. “Please say you will ride with us, Diana. It will be great fun.”

  “Of course,” replied Diana, not wanting to spoil the enjoyment of others. “I would love to be in the party. I cannot remember when I last went on a picnic, and the weather has been so beautiful.”

  That settled, Rollo got down to making the arrangements. “Well, then, we need to find you a suitable horse. The other ladies have all found mounts. Oliver, would you take Miss Wells to the stables tomorrow and help her select a fitting horse?”

  Diana panicked. She did not want to spend time with Oliver. Alone. “My lord, I am sure that any horse will suffice. Please don’t put Oliver to any trouble.”

  Rollo was surprised by this reaction, until his brother leaned over and very quietly explained that Miss Wells seemed not to be comfortable with him and avoided his company when at all possible. Looking at Diana’s now pale face and seeing that she was wringing her hands in agitation, Rollo concluded that his brother was right. Surprised and somewhat unnerved by his growing attraction to the diminutive shapely lady, he had decided that he would try to avoid her company as much as possible. But this couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t force Oliver’s company on her.

  “Oliver has just mentioned to me that he has business to attend to in the morning, so would you permit me to accompany you instead?” he suggested. “I would rather you had the opportunity to get used to the animal before Friday, as it is quite a long and hard ride to Spartan Top.”

  “If you are sure that you can spare the time, then I thank you,” Diana replied, her relief evident in her voice and in the stilling of her hands

  * * *

  The following morning, after breakfast, Diana changed into her dark blue riding habit. She left her hair down in order to accommodate a new riding hat, which sat at a jaunty angle on her head.

  Rollo met her in the lobby at eleven o’clock as arranged. Diana’s pulse gave a jolt at the sight of him. He looked breathtakingly handsome and, she thought, slightly dangerous, dressed in black from head to toe. His face was expressionless as always; he was every inch the Earl of Ice this morning. Diana was looking forward to selecting a mount for the picnic tomorrow and so was determined not to be intimidated by him. She gave him a sunny smile in response to his curt nod of greeting.

  Rollo, annoyed that Diana’s radiant smile and appearance had sent an unfamiliar pang through him, set off at a brisk walk to the stables. Diana scurried quickly after him, almost having to break into a run to keep up with his long strides. By the time they reached the first stable block, she was quite out of breath. Rollo, who had by then calmed his nerves, noticed her panting and her pink cheeks, and mentally chided himself for being so thoughtless. Just because her presence had an unsettling effect on him was no excuse to run the poor girl ragged!

  As they entered the stable block, Rollo explained to her that these horses were mounts for the family. The other blocks housed his racehorses and his stud. As they walked down the central aisle, he told her the horses’ names and pointed out the ones favoured by the other guests. “You may take you pick from any of the others.”

  Diana stopped to admire a beautiful gelding standing about seventeen hands high, with a pale, almost cream-coloured coat. She rubbed his nose and he whinnied in response. “He is so handsome,” she remarked. “What is his name?”

  “Dempsey, but we call him Demon because he has such a devilish temperament. Notice that there is no horse in the next bay—this is because Demon will nip and kick out,” Rollo explained. “He would not be a suitable choice.”

  Diana was disappointed but was more than willing to consider other options. The horse in the bay opposite Demon caught her eye. “Who is this fine mare?” she asked.

  “That is Misty. She is very well-mannered and would be a good choice.” He rubbed the mare’s outstretched muzzle.

  Diana stood back to consider and found herself being butted gently in her back by Demon, his head reaching out from the bay behind her. She laughed and turned to him. “Jealous, are you?” she asked. “I know that you are a most handsome beast, but I have been told that you do not behave.”

  Demon snickered and nudged her again. She stroked his neck. “I have no apples for you. I think you just want to have all the attention.” She continued petting the animal and talking nonsense to him, and the gelding nudged her playfully every time she tried to move away.

  Rollo, watching Diana with the horse, realized that this was the first time he had heard her laugh since the incident at the Whittington Ball. He also concluded that any man would be lucky indeed to have Diana looking at him with such tenderness and murmuring such sweet nonsense. For a fleeting moment he wondered how he would be if he were that lucky man, and felt an immediate squeeze somewhere in his chest—one he could not identify and, furthermore, did not find at all comfortable.

  “Is he never ridden?” Diana asked, still stroking Demon’s neck.

  “I have ridden him and he needs a firm hand before settling. But he’s unpredictable. He has thrown one of the grooms and kicked a couple of the st
able hands. It seems that he takes a liking to some people and not others. It has been suggested he be put down, but as you can see, he is a fine-looking animal and not all bad.”

  Rollo, since buying Demon, had had many conversations about the horse with his head groom, a man to whom Demon had taken an instant dislike. Rollo could not, however, bring himself to take any precipitous action against so fine an animal and so had advised that only the staff that Demon tolerated should attend him.

  “Would you let me try riding him?” Diana asked. “I am considered a very accomplished horsewoman and I would not hold it against you if I were unseated.” Diana unconsciously clasped her hands together as though begging and looked up at Rollo with her big brown eyes full of hope.

  Rollo was torn. He wanted to please his guest but he did not want her to break her neck. But those soft, pleading eyes were his undoing, and taking a gamble that Demon would not tolerate a sidesaddle, and thus abort any attempt she made to ride, he gave in.

  “I will ask for him to be saddled up and you may attempt to mount him, but only under my close supervision. I must warn you that, as far as I am aware, he has never been ridden by a female and I do not know if he will allow a side saddle.”

  “I understand,” said Diana, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation, “and if he does not like the saddle, or me, I will ride Misty instead.”

  Rollo called for the stable lads to saddle Demon and his own horse, Periklis, a magnificent black Thoroughbred stallion with four white socks. Then he escorted Diana into the yard to wait. Periklis was the first to be walked out. Diana, recognizing a fine animal when she saw one, admired him openly. Next a young boy walked a skittish, already saddled Demon out into the yard. She immediately walked to the side of the horse so that he could see her. He seemed to whinny a greeting, which encouraged her to pat his neck and stroke his muzzle. This calmed him sufficiently for mounting and she indicated for the stable lad to walk him to the mounting block.