Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 1 of 2

by Carla Kelly

  They soon emerged in the main entrance hall. No lamps burned there, but the darkness was alleviated by the faint moonlight streaming in through the windows and from the fanlight above the door. The earl touched her arm and the tingle ran up to her shoulder.

  ‘Go on upstairs. I left by the front door, so I must lock it again. Do not worry,’ he added, when she hesitated. ‘There is sufficient light for me here to see my way.’

  Diana hesitated.

  ‘Sir, what happens in the morning, when we meet again?’

  ‘What would you like to happen?’

  Her mouth went dry.

  ‘N-nothing,’ she said at last. ‘I would prefer to forget everything that has occurred tonight.’

  For a moment he did not answer her. He reached out and touched her cheek.

  ‘Is that truly what you want?’

  Of course not! I would like you to take me to your bed and in the morning to declare your undying love for me, but I am not that much of a fool.

  The words screamed in her head, but only the last one taunted her. Fool.

  ‘Yes. Truly.’

  She managed the words with admirable calm. His hand fell and he gave a little bow.

  ‘Then it shall be as you wish,’ he said lightly. ‘It is forgotten.’

  * * *

  Without another word Diana slipped away, being careful to avoid the creaking stairs and floorboards. By the time she reached her bedchamber on the top floor she felt as if she had climbed a mountain, her heart hammering against her ribs and her breath ragged and painful. She climbed into bed and huddled beneath the bedcovers.

  Tears were very close but she would not let them fall. Indeed, why should she be unhappy? She had enjoyed swimming in the lake, it had been invigorating, liberating and she had done nothing wrong. True, the earl’s arrival had shocked her, but he had not really been angry with her. She shivered when she recalled the sight of him when he had first climbed out of the water. He had positively glistened in the moonlight, the damp shirt moulding to his form like a silver skin.

  She remembered how he had examined her ankles and the shivering grew more intense until she could feel it deep inside her, but it was not unpleasant. She was already curled into a ball and her hands slid down her calves, wondering why his touch should cause such strange and unfamiliar sensations. He had said he could see no difference in her legs. He could not understand why she should limp so badly, and as he had led her away from the lake it was as if he had cured her simply by the force of his will. Not so, of course, but it had been less noticeable, just as it was when she played outdoor games with the children, running and jumping and forgetting the heavy, awkward drag of that left leg.

  She had followed him silently to the very edge of the woods, lost in a moonlight world where nothing mattered save the fact that they were together. Even when he had taken her in his arms she had not resisted, even though he had seemed to envelop her in his huge, dark and powerful presence. It was only when she started to drown in his kiss that she realised her danger, Her treacherous body had responded to him, crying out for his touch, his kiss. She had never wanted him to stop, but some deeply ingrained sense of self-preservation had made her bring that kiss to an end. He had awoken a deeply buried longing within her, a yearning that she now realised had been building up during the long lonely years since her come-out. Years of self-imposed exile.

  It had taken every ounce of determination to resist him, to beg him to stop and it had not been thoughts of impropriety that had made her do so, nor fear for her reputation. It was the knowledge, deep and instinctive, that if she allowed that kiss to continue she would crumble, as she had done before but this time, in this mystical moonlight world, there would be no escape. She would be lost, consumed by forces she could not control. She would give herself, body and soul, to a man who did not love her.

  The tears scalded her lids as they squeezed themselves out and soaked her pillow. She was a governess, and a good one. If she gave herself to Lord Davenport, if she became his lover, even for one night, she would forfeit her position, most certainly lose her self-esteem and she suspected that the aching loneliness she felt now would be infinitely worse once she had tasted the happiness that he could give her. The tears flowed in earnest and she was racked by deep, wrenching sobs, but at least now she knew why she was so unhappy.

  She was crying for what could never be.

  * * *

  Alex shot the bolts on the main door as quietly as he could and made his way up to his room. The house was silent, the staircase empty and grey in the faint moonlight that shone in through the windows, but in his mind he could see Diana ahead of him, her dark cloak billowing like smoke as she ran up the stairs. He could still remember the feel of her hand in his, the delicate, fragile fingers clinging to him as he led her back through the woods. His mouth twisted into a wry smile. She was aptly named, Diana, goddess of the moon. She had bewitched him. When he reached the landing he had to steel himself not to continue up to the top floor in search of her. She would not thank him for following, and in the morning he would regret it. Diana was not the perfect, comfortable wife he envisaged for himself, she was far too opinionated and would cut up his peace most dreadfully.

  Yes, he thought as he turned and made his way to his bedchamber. In the morning he would see this night’s work for what it was, a moment of moonlight madness.

  Chapter Seven

  By morning Diana had shed all her tears and was able to face the day philosophically. Lord Davenport and his guests were remaining at Chantreys for another two days and she must face them all. She trusted the earl not to tell anyone of their midnight encounter and therefore the best thing to do would be to act as if it had not happened. Indeed, the episode felt very much like a dream so it should not be difficult to pretend that is all it had been.

  She decided to take the girls out for a morning walk. They met no one on the stairs, voices from the dining room suggesting that some people were still breaking their fast, but it was not until they were in the park that Diana realised how tense she had been, how nervous of seeing the earl.

  * * *

  An hour strolling through the park with Meggie and Florence did much to calm her and Diana thought herself quite composed as they returned to the house, until a footman relayed Lord Davenport’s message that she and the children were to present themselves in the hall at noon, when they would all be setting off to picnic at nearby Saxon Hill.

  Meggie and Florence were with her when Fingle broke the news and they were so excited at the prospect that Diana had not the heart to refuse them. She tried to make her own excuses but she discovered that the earl had anticipated that. Fingle smiled at her in a kindly fashion and told her that Lord Davenport had specifically requested that she should accompany them.

  ‘I think his lordship feels he owes you a little treat, miss, for all the inconvenience you have suffered during his visit.’

  ‘Oh, no, no...’ she began, flustered, but the butler interrupted her with a chuckle.

  ‘No, it’s been a pleasure to have the house so full, hasn’t it?’ Fingle remarked, his faded eyes twinkling. ‘I tried to say as much to his lordship but he would have it that you and the young ladies must attend.’ Diana looked at him in dismay, but the old retainer took her silence for joyous astonishment and his smile only grew wider. ‘It’s no wonder if you cannot find the words, miss. Now, you and the young ladies had best go upstairs and get yourselves ready, you won’t want to keep his lordship waiting.’

  * * *

  Shortly after twelve the picnic party set off. Any apprehension Diana had of awkwardness between herself and the earl was soon allayed. He spoke to her only to suggest the girls should travel with him in his curricle, leaving Diana to ride in one of the two open carriages with the rest of the guests. Lady Frances elected to travel with Mr Wolle
rton and Mr Hamilton while Miss Prentiss begged Diana to accompany her in the second carriage with Mr Avery.

  ‘Mrs Peters has the headache and is not coming with us,’ explained Miss Prentiss, adding with an arch look, ‘We will have to chaperon each other, Miss Grensham.’

  The earl had sent his servants on ahead to lay out an array of rugs and cushions beneath a cluster of large and spreading trees, so when the party arrived at Saxon Hill all they had to do was to make themselves comfortable in the shade and enjoy the refreshments that had been provided. It was not a long walk from the carriages, but Diana felt the earl’s frowning glance as she limped towards the picnic site. It made every step a struggle and she stopped at the first rug and called to Meggie and Florence to join her.

  ‘Oh, do pray let them sit with me,’ cried Lady Frances, holding out her hands to the girls. ‘I do so wish to become better acquainted with Lord Davenport’s little wards.’

  Meggie and Florence glanced uncertainly at Diana, but having received permission they ran off to sit beside Lady Frances. Miss Prentiss came up, saying gaily, ‘Let us sit down here together, Miss Grensham, and the gentlemen shall wait upon us.’

  ‘Yes, sit down, Miss Grensham,’ murmured the earl as he passed her. ‘This is your treat, remember.’

  ‘But perhaps I should be with the girls—’

  ‘You need not be anxious about Meggie and Florence. I am sure I can be trusted to look after them.’

  He walked off and threw himself down beside Lady Frances. Diana was aware of a stab of something very like jealousy. She quelled it quickly and looked away. The other gentlemen had joined them and Miss Prentiss gave her loud, braying laugh.

  ‘Three gentlemen and two ladies, Miss Grensham, I vow we should think ourselves very fortunate!’

  * * *

  It was an effort, but Diana forced herself to relax and join in the conversation. With the sun shining and everyone determined to be pleased, the time passed quickly. Diana was surprised to discover that she really was enjoying herself as they dined on dainty pastries and cakes washed down by wine, ale or lemonade. She glanced across only once to where the girls were sitting. The earl was reclining at his ease and Lady Frances was tempting Meggie and Florence with the choicest delicacies from the hamper. Diana quickly looked away. Lord Davenport had told her he would look after the girls, so she determined not to give them another thought. As the earl had said, this was her treat, she should enjoy it.

  * * *

  Alex watched Lady Frances as she cooed and petted the children, who giggled and chattered away as they helped themselves to the fancy cakes and sweetmeats Cook had prepared for their delectation. He would not look at Diana, even when he heard her laugh at something one of the other fellows had said. He realised how rarely she had laughed during this visit, so different from when he had called at Chantreys and they had played battledore and shuttlecock. Then they had both laughed almost constantly.

  He heard Eliza Prentiss express a desire to pick a posy of spring flowers and from the corner of his eye saw the gentlemen scramble to their feet. Miss Prentiss skipped off across the grass with two of the gentlemen in attendance, but Hamilton paused.

  ‘M-Miss Grensham, will you n-not come with us?’

  Alex felt rather than saw Diana shrink away and he was aware of a ripple of irritation. Was she so ashamed to have people see her limping, or did she think her leg would prevent her from keeping up with the others? He had seen her playing games with the children, he knew it was not the case, but she did not believe it and that was what mattered.

  Hamilton ran off and Alex scowled. The fellow should have tried harder to persuade her. He felt a light touch on his arm and looked up to find Lady Frances on her feet beside him.

  ‘I am taking Margaret and Florence to collect flowers, too. Will you come with us, my lord?’

  He shook his head and made his excuses.

  Instantly Frances was hesitating.

  ‘Well, perhaps the sun is a little hot...’

  But Meggie would not hear of it. She and Florence were exhilarated by the attention they had received and they now jumped around Lady Frances, begging her to go with them. Alex grinned.

  ‘You will get no peace if you do not go, Frances.’

  Her smile became even more fixed and Alex bit back a laugh to see the spoiled beauty at a loss. He was well aware that her interest in the children was tepid, but it would do her no harm to exert herself a little more on their behalf.

  ‘Off you go now,’ he murmured wickedly. ‘I will watch you from here.’

  He did so, too, until they were some distance away, then he sat up and turned to Diana.

  ‘You did not wish to join them?’

  She shook her head. ‘I collect flowers regularly for the house, albeit from the gardens.’

  ‘The displays in the hall and the morning room are your creation?’

  ‘Yes, they are.’

  ‘Another of your many accomplishments, Miss Grensham.’

  ‘A very minor one.’

  ‘Not so. Your arrangements show you have a good eye for colour. Do you paint, as well?’

  She answered in the affirmative and he began to draw her out, describing the exhibitions he had seen at the Royal Academy and telling her of the growing collection of paintings and sculptures squeezed into his London house. He did not say he wanted to move many of them to Chantreys, where they could be displayed to advantage, he did not wish to spoil the moment by reminding her of their dispute. Instead he moved the conversation on to include literature and the theatre. Gradually she lost her reserve and began to talk freely. Her eyes lit up and she waved her hands expressively when she talked of the plays she had enjoyed, the books she had read. It was a small step from there to politics, history and the recently resumed hostilities with France.

  Alex found it was no hardship to talk to Diana. She had a lively mind and the questions she posed were intelligent, taxing his memory as he tried to satisfy her thirst for knowledge and find the arguments to refute her opinions, when they differed from his own. He found himself sitting forward, dragging up long-forgotten facts, debating subjects he had not even thought of since his student days, and he was thoroughly enjoying it.

  All too soon Miss Prentiss’s strident voice interrupted their conversation and Alex saw that the others were returning. He glanced across at Diana, who gave him a shy little smile.

  ‘What a pity we did not meet and talk years ago, my lord. We might have become good friends.’

  Friends! His brows contracted as she turned away to greet the others and he realised with startling clarity that her life so far had been—and still was—a very lonely one.

  * * *

  Meggie and Florence were the last to come up and Diana noted at once their over-bright eyes and flushed cheeks.

  ‘Margaret wanted to pick a bouquet for you, Miss Grensham.’ Lady Frances put her hand on Meggie’s shoulder. ‘Come along, my dear, give them up before they become too crushed to be of use.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Diana jumped up and took the proffered flowers, but she rested the back of her free hand against Meggie’s brow. ‘You are very warm, my love.’

  Meggie’s bottom lip began to tremble. ‘I do not feel very well.’

  ‘Nor do I.’ Florence wound her fingers in Diana’s skirts.

  ‘Then you shall both sit in the shade with me for a little while,’ said Diana, leading them to the empty rug.

  ‘La, I am quite parched,’ declared Miss Prentiss, collapsing on to a pile of cushions. ‘I should be very grateful for another glass of wine, Mr Avery.’

  ‘And for me, if you please,’ called Lady Frances. She glanced down at the girls. ‘Poor little dears, perhaps we can tempt them with a little marzipan—’

  ‘No.’ Diana put up her hand. ‘I think th
ey have had more than enough to eat. A few sips of lemonade might help, but nothing more, unless you wish them to be ill on the homeward journey.’

  Lady Frances stepped back, staring in horror at the children as if they were infectious.

  ‘They did have rather a lot of pastries,’ Alex admitted.

  ‘Oh, nonsense!’ Lady Frances tossed her head. ‘They are merely hot and tired. A little rest is all that is required. Come along, my lord, we will leave them to Miss Grensham while we enjoy another glass of wine. I vow I am quite exhausted by all the exertion.’

  Diana kept the children with her while the others raided the hampers for the last of the refreshments. They leaned against her, uncharacteristically quiet, and she scolded herself for not keeping more of an eye upon them. Clearly they had eaten too many sweet things and were suffering the consequences. Diana was filled with remorse. It could have been avoided if only she had warned the earl, instead of giving in to the demon jealousy and studiously ignoring him and Lady Frances.

  ‘I am so sorry, my dears,’ she muttered, cuddling both little girls. ‘I shall take better care of you in future.’

  Her pleasure in the day was quite destroyed, the earlier discussions with Lord Davenport forgotten. She sat quietly with Meggie and Florence and could only be glad when it was time to return to Chantreys. The girls were still looking a little pale but she hoped they would make the return journey without mishap. However, when they reached the waiting carriages Lady Frances stepped up to the earl and took his arm.

  ‘I will travel with you in the curricle, Alexander. The other gentlemen may travel in one of the landaus with Miss Prentiss, that will leave the final carriage for Miss Grensham and the little girls. That way they will inconvenience no one if they are unwell.’

  The earl stopped.

  ‘You would leave Miss Grensham to deal with the children alone?’