Harlequin Historical November 2015, Box Set 1 of 2

by Carla Kelly

  She chuckled. ‘But it is a large and respectable party, sir. I do not think that is quite your usual style.’

  ‘No, it is not.’ He grimaced. ‘I admit I was caught out there, but having committed to it I cannot go back. And, do you know the strangest thing of all? I find myself quite looking forward to it now.’

  ‘I am delighted to hear that.’

  A smile spread through her and burst forth as she held her hand out to him. All restraint was forgotten, so much so that she did not recognise the warning signs, did not hold back as he pulled her closer, into his arms. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to accept his kiss, to close her eyes and forget everything except the warm, enveloping embrace.

  When at last he raised his head she remained in his arms, her head thrown back against his shoulder, eyes half-closed while he stared down at her. It took a few moments for Diana to bring his face into focus and when she did the warm contentment that had wrapped around her was stripped away. She gathered her strength and pushed herself out of his arms, turning away that he might not see the hurt and disappointment in her eyes.

  ‘Diana, I beg your pardon—’

  She put up a hand. ‘Please, do not say anything. I realise you had no intention of kissing me.’

  ‘No. I forgot myself.’

  The knife in her heart twisted.

  ‘I quite understand.’ Her voice was calm, controlled. She gripped her hands together. She could do this if she did not look at him. ‘Please leave me now, sir. You have a long drive back to town.’

  ‘Yes. Diana, I—’

  His voice was harsh. What right had he to be angry with her? He had already admitted he was at fault. She whipped up her own indignation to protect herself.

  She said coldly, ‘There is no need to explain your reprehensible behaviour, my lord. Just leave me, if you please.’

  Diana stood with her back to him, tense, head held high, straining her ears for any sound behind her. At last there was the faintest noise, like a sigh, then a firm step, the opening of the door, the soft click as it closed. He was gone.

  She kept her eyes fixed on the window but all she saw was the look she had seen in Alex’s eyes when he had raised his head from that kiss. Bewilderment. Consternation. Horror.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was just over a week until Alex was due to take his party to Chantreys. He had not had any word from Diana since that last, calamitous visit. He had tried to write and apologise for his behaviour, but every attempt ended with the paper being torn to shreds. How could he explain what had happened when he did not understand it himself? When she had smiled up at him his response had been pure instinct. He had taken the hand she was holding out to him and drawn her into his arms as if they had done it a hundred times before. Afterwards she had been so calm about it, so understanding, but she must now think him a hardened rake who would take every opportunity to steal a kiss.

  His lip curled in bitter self-derision. Perhaps that is what he was. He had grown so accustomed to being courted by every woman he met, perhaps Diana’s resistance had attracted him. What a courtcard he must be, if he must pursue a woman simply because she did not pursue him!

  London was white-hot, baking in the August sun, and Alex did not want to venture out but he could no longer put off a visit to his tailor, or to his bootmaker. It was just past noon and he was crossing Piccadilly when he saw Diana and her charges emerging from one of the shops. For one wild, foolish moment he thought he had conjured her from his imagination, because she was constantly in his thoughts these days.

  She looked very fetching in a new sage-green pelisse and with a chip-straw bonnet fixed over her glossy red curls. He recalled her comment that no one noticed governesses. No one would think of her as a governess today, several gentlemen turned their heads to take another look as they passed her. She was busy handing a neatly wrapped parcel to her footman and did not see Alex until he called out to her.

  She looked around. There was no mistaking the dismay in her face. Meggie and Florence immediately ran up, holding up their purchases for Alex to admire. Diana let them chatter on for a few moments before she shushed them and drew them back to her side.

  ‘Good day to you, Lord Davenport,’ she greeted him without meeting his eyes. ‘We have come to town to do a little shopping. Madame Francot’s new clothes made it necessary to buy matching gloves and slippers and all kinds of little extras.’

  He glanced at the shop behind them.

  ‘And books?’

  His teasing question brought only the ghost of a smile.

  ‘One cannot come to town without visiting Hatchards, my lord.’

  ‘Where do you go next?’

  ‘I am not quite sure.’ She glanced back at the footman. ‘There are more purchases to make, but poor Christopher has about as much as he can carry already.’

  ‘I have a suggestion,’ said Alex. ‘Let Christopher take your parcels to the carriage while I take you all to Gunter’s tea shop for ices.’

  The idea found instant approval with Meggie and Florence and he was pleased to see that Diana’s hesitation was very brief before she nodded her agreement and dispatched her footman, with orders that he was to meet them later in Berkeley Square. Piccadilly was particularly crowded and it was impossible for them all to walk together. Diana invited Alex to lead the way and he found himself with Florence at his side. She slipped her little hand into his.

  ‘Is this not quite delightful, Uncle Alex?’

  ‘Yes, delightful,’ murmured Alex.

  He spotted George Brummel strolling in the centre of a group of fashionably dressed gentlemen on the other side of the road. One of their number was Gervase Wollerton and Alex touched his hat to him, hiding his grin as the rest of the party glanced across the road, several of them raising their quizzing glasses to stare at the sight of the noted Corinthian hand in hand with a chattering child. That would give them something to talk of in the club today, he thought and he had no doubt that Gervase would quiz him mercilessly when they met up at Feversham House later that evening. Surprisingly, Alex found he did not care.

  There was no opportunity to talk until they were seated in Gunter’s and the girls were enjoying their ices. Diana had declined the treat, but had been persuaded to take a cup of coffee. Alex waited until they had all been served before he spoke.

  ‘Do you go back to Chantreys tonight?’

  ‘No, we are booked into an hotel.’

  ‘I told you to come and stay in Half Moon Street.’

  ‘That was very kind of you, my lord, but I did not think it wise.’

  She kept her eyes lowered and it did not need the faint flush on her cheek to tell him why she had not brought the children to his town house. She did not trust him.

  ‘Diana is taking us to the theatre!’ announced Meggie.

  ‘We are going to see The Frozen Mountain,’ Diana hurried to explain. ‘I have studied it thoroughly and taken advice from acquaintances who have already seen it. I am content that it is quite suitable for young minds. And there is a ballet, too, which they will enjoy.’

  She gave him a bright smile, but it was a professional one, it did not warm her eyes. She had put him at a distance.

  And that was what he wanted, Alex told himself, nettled. The woman was a confounded nuisance, she distracted him, made him act out of character. And she was standing in the way of all his plans. The best thing would be to marry her off, give her something to think about apart from the children. They could then be moved off with a new governess to another house, or sent to school. That way everyone would be happy. A movement at the window caught his eye.

  ‘Ah, Christopher has arrived,’ said Diana, looking up. She pushed away her empty cup. ‘And in excellent time, as we are ready to go.’

  When they emerged into the sun
shine Diana gathered the girls to her.

  ‘Meggie, Florence, thank Lord Davenport for his kindness and we will be on our way.’

  ‘Have you more shopping to do? I could come with you,’ offered Alex.

  ‘Thank you, my lord, but we have taken up more than enough of your time today. Your way lies towards Piccadilly and we have a few purchases to make in New Bond Street. We shall look forward to seeing you at Chantreys next week.’

  Alex watched, silenced as she walked away, Meggie and Florence on either side. She had dismissed him and with such confidence that he had been quite unable to argue. He felt a reluctant admiration for Miss Diana Grensham, who was proving to be a very worthy opponent. His eyes narrowed as he watched the little group disappear around a corner. Diana’s awkward, halting step had almost completely disappeared.

  Alex turned and made his way back to Piccadilly. The day was almost gone and he had much to do before this evening, when he was promised to join his friends at the Fevershams’ rout, but the thought of a riotous evening of cards and drinking was surprisingly unappealing. He thought he would much prefer to watch an innocuous play at Drury Lane.

  * * *

  Chantreys was alive with activity. The guests were due at any time and Diana was as apprehensive as her wards were excited at the thought of having so many visitors. Not that it showed when she and the girls made their way to the drawing room shortly before the dinner hour. She had left Fingle and Mrs Wallace to greet the earl and his party and deal with the bustle and confusion of settling everyone into their rooms. She had continued with the girls’ lessons in the schoolroom, but ever since she had heard the first scrunch of wheels on the gravelled drive she had been expecting a curt summons. It had not come and she took the girls downstairs at the appointed hour, steeling herself to appear calm and composed as she entered the room.

  She was wearing one of her new evening gowns, a moss-green silk that Madam Francot had said would enhance her beautiful eyes. Diana had dismissed her words as mere flattery, but when she tried on the gown she was surprised to see that her eyes did look larger, brighter and it brought out the tiny green flecks in them. It gave her confidence. She might never be beautiful, but in this gown she did not look dull.

  Diana breathed slowly, steadily and forced herself not to drag her left leg as she led the girls forward. Alex had called her a worthy opponent and worthy opponents did not cower or walk with a halting step, not if they could do anything about it.

  A memory flickered. She was a child, crying, while across the room Mama and the doctor were locked in fierce debate.

  ‘Madam, the child must try to put her weight on the leg. It will hurt at first, of course, but if she persists—’

  ‘It is no good. She is a cripple and we must face the fact. Good day to you. Your services are no longer required. Send in your bill...’

  And Diana had been left to her own devices, favouring the left leg, allowing the muscles to waste, accepting the fact that she would always walk with a limp. Until Alex had questioned it.

  The earl appeared, imposing, breathtaking in his dark coat and white linen. His rugged countenance was impassive. Had he noticed the effort she was making to walk normally? Did he care? It would appear not, she thought as he gave her a little bow. His frowning gaze rested on her neck.

  ‘Is that the only jewellery you have?’

  ‘It is.’ She put her hand up to the single string of pearls clasped around her throat. ‘Are they not suitable?’

  ‘Oh, eminently.’

  His attention was claimed by the children and she observed how his hard look softened at their effusive greeting. She might have told him that governesses had little need of trinkets but he was already taking the girls off to meet his guests. He indicated by a look that Diana should accompany them.

  The introductions began. Diana recognised some guests from the first house party, including Mr Wollerton, whose friendly greeting she returned with a grateful smile, but there were still a dozen faces she did not know. Exchanging greetings with so many strangers was a struggle for one who had spent the past few years avoiding society but everyone was very polite. It was clear that Alex had already informed them all of her position at Chantreys as the girls’ governess and guardian and no one questioned her right to be hostess, although when Alex led her past Lady Frances Diana felt those blue eyes boring into her like daggers of ice.

  * * *

  When dinner was announced Nurse came downstairs to collect the children, leaving Diana free to join her guests. It needed every spare leaf inserted into the table to accommodate all the diners and as she took her place Diana felt very alone, for she and Alex had the full length of the table between them. Her glance moved to Lady Frances, who was sitting on Alex’s right. If he had appointed Frances as his hostess then she would have been sitting here, as far away from the host as it was possible to be.

  Diana concentrated on her duty, making sure those around her had everything they required. At one point she looked up to find Alex was watching her. He raised his glass and her chin went up. What did it matter if he wanted Lady Frances by his side? It was nothing to her. She smiled and returned his salute. Alex might not admire her as a woman, but he did consider her a worthy opponent.

  * * *

  Throughout dinner Alex cast frequent glances down the table. Diana was conversing quite happily with her guests, whereas the company around him seemed dull and lacklustre. Even Frances’s barbed wit failed to amuse him. At the appropriate moment Diana rose and invited the ladies to follow her into the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to enjoy a glass of brandy. The conversation moved on to politics and gambling and, inevitably, women. Sir Charles Urmston leaned forward to address his host.

  ‘I understand you wish your guests to act with decorum this week, Davenport.’

  ‘Discretion was the word I used,’ replied Alex coolly. ‘I expect my guests to behave with discretion while they are under my roof. I hope Lady Frances made that clear to you?’

  He had not been pleased when Frances had told him this morning that her cousin Simonstone could not come and she had invited Urmston to take his place. However, at that point it was too late to do much about it. He signalled to Fingle to charge the glasses again and sat back, his brow slightly furrowed.

  ‘She did, my lord, and I must say I was a little surprised.’ Urmston gave the superior smile that never failed to grate upon Alex’s nerves. ‘Your wards are quite delightful, my lord, but I had not thought you the sort to turn prudish.’ He stopped, raising his head as though some shocking thought had struck him. ‘You ain’t taken to religion, have you, Davenport?’

  ‘No, of course he hasn’t,’ exclaimed Wollerton, laughing. ‘He’s just trying to protect his wards from corrupting influences such as yourself, Urmston!’

  A ripple of laughter went around the table and the conversation moved on, but Alex found himself regarding Urmston with growing dislike. Why had Frances invited him? Did she think he hadn’t heard the rumours about the two of them? Surely she knew Urmston was not the sort of bachelor Alex wanted to foist upon Diana. Simonstone now, the cousin who was meant to have come, he was a different proposition. A respectable fellow of independent means, very much like Avery and Hamilton. Dull dogs, all of them, but any one of them could be relied upon to make a good husband for Diana. That was why he had invited them to Chantreys.

  Alex’s gaze strayed back to Urmston. Most likely Frances was trying to make him jealous by flaunting Urmston before him and in his own house, too. Alex’s mouth thinned. Such tactics would not work with him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  The decanters were empty and Alex decided not to send for more. Instead he suggested they should join the ladies. As they all rose and moved towards the door, Sir Charles waited for Alex and fell in beside him.

  ‘You know, that governess of yours is a taking li
ttle thing, Davenport. I’d be happy to give her a tumble, if you want her discredited.’

  Alex stopped. The others were already crossing the hall and he detained Urmston in the now-empty dining room, closing the door upon them.

  ‘I never wanted her discredited, as you put it,’ he said in icy tones. ‘Let me tell you now, Urmston, that I should take it very badly if anyone were to seduce Miss Grensham. Very badly indeed.’ He met and held the older man’s gaze. ‘I hope we understand one another.’

  For an instant he saw a flash of something in those hooded eyes. Anger, dislike, he could not be sure, then it was gone and Sir Charles was smiling and spreading his hands.

  ‘Why, of course, Davenport, I was just trying to be of assistance.’

  ‘I think I can do without your assistance in this matter, Urmston.’ Alex opened the door. ‘Shall we go?’

  * * *

  Diana tried to keep the conversation lively and interesting, but it was clear that the ladies were not enamoured of their own company, for when the gentlemen came in the atmosphere changed immediately. Only Mrs Peters appeared not to be affected and continued to rattle on inconsequentially to whoever would listen to her. One of the gentlemen suggested music and the ladies were delighted to oblige.

  ‘It is a pity you do not have a pianoforte, my lord,’ remarked Lady Cranbury, a dashing matron with roguish eyes. ‘It is all the rage now, you know.’

  ‘I am aware,’ returned Alex. ‘I intend to install one here before the year is out.’

  ‘The children will like that,’ observed Diana. ‘Our neighbours, the Fredericks, have one and they have been allowed to try it.’

  ‘And who will teach them?’ asked Lady Frances. ‘Are you trained upon the pianoforte, Miss Grensham?’

  ‘We have one in the orangery,’ said Diana. ‘A Broadwood, hired in readiness for the ball. I have been practising upon that. And if the children show an aptitude then I shall hire a music master from London to drive out and give them lessons. That is one of the advantages of living near town.’