by Carla Kelly
‘There, that’s better.’ Alex turned towards her, that glinting smile in his eyes. ‘Now, do you really wish to speak to me or—’
He reached out for her, but she batted his hands away, saying angrily, ‘Seduce the wench and send her packing.’
If any proof were needed that the gentlemen had been telling her the truth she had it now. Alex’s hands fell, his brows snapped together.
‘Where the devil did you hear that?’
‘Mr Wollerton told me.’
‘Gervase? What the deuce was he about, to be saying such a thing?’
‘Do you deny it? Do you deny that you were planning ways to get me out of Chantreys?’
‘You know I cannot deny that, but I said you would go of your own accord.’
‘So you tried to marry me off!’
Alex looked perplexed. He pushed a hand through his hair.
‘At first that was my intention, yes, but—’
Diana cut him short. ‘Oh, despicable, despicable man! And when that failed you—you—’ She dashed a hand across her eyes. ‘How dare you ruin me, just to get your own way?’
‘What? Diana, it was not like that—’
‘When were you planning to denounce me, on Friday, at the ball perhaps?’
‘No!’ He caught her shoulders.
‘Let go of me!’ She shook him off, backing away as she put her hands to the back of her neck and fumbled with the clasp of the emerald necklace. ‘No doubt you think I should be grateful for your...your gift!’
‘No I do not want your gratitude, you little hothead, I want you to listen to me. Those emeralds have nothing to do with what happened between us.’ Alex kept his hands at his sides, fists clenched as if to stop himself from reaching out for her again.
‘There is no excuse for what happened in the orangery,’ he told her. ‘I mean to atone for it by marrying you.’
Diana was already in a towering rage and this little speech only heightened her indignation. Her eyes flashed.
‘La, thank you my lord, I am vastly obliged to you for your kind offer but I have no wish to, to sacrifice myself just to ease your conscience!’ At last the clasp on the necklace was undone. ‘I have money of my own and would infinitely prefer to live with my, my disgrace rather than be your wife!’
With jerky, unsteady hands she dragged the necklace from her throat, slipped off the earrings and hurled everything at Alex before running from the room.
* * *
The slam of the door resounded around the study before the air settled over Alex in a tense, prickly silence. He stared down at the floor. The earrings winked up at him from the boards and the emerald necklace was draped across one foot like an elegant but old-fashioned shoe buckle.
‘You fool,’ he muttered bitterly. ‘You crass and utter fool.’
Chapter Fourteen
Diana spent a tearful, sleepless night going over the events of the previous day, allowing herself to remember how it had felt to be in Alex’s arms, to enjoy the memory of his caresses before the pain of knowing how little it had meant to him was too much to be borne. He had planned it, after he had tried and failed to find a husband for her. Indeed, his attempts in that quarter had been laughable. As if she could ever fall in love with Mr Hamilton just because he liked music or Mr Avery, because they shared a mild interest in gardening. Or any of the other single gentlemen he had brought to Chantreys. None of them had sparked her interest, nor had any of them shown a preference for her.
It was impossible not to think of Alex’s kindness to her. The way he had given her the courage to work on that irregular, halting walk, to believe that she could conquer it. But before she could feel too grateful towards him she reminded herself that it had all been in an effort to make her more attractive to the bachelors he paraded before her.
And failing that, he had fallen back on the original plan.
Seduce the wench and send her packing.
The long night wore on. Diana stirred restlessly in her bed. She could not deny she had enjoyed challenging the earl, rebutting his attempts to shock her. It had become a game, but that had all ended yesterday, and not merely because he had seduced her like the practised rake he was.
No, it had ended when she realised how much she loved him.
* * *
When at last the grey dawn broke Diana summoned a sleepy Jenny to help her dress. She was determined to get through the day, to see Meggie and Florence perform this evening, but after that she would pack her bags and quit Chantreys. A sigh filled her. She had grown to love Meggie and Florence as if they were her own and leaving them would be agony, but there was no alternative. She was ruined and she could not allow her scandal to touch them. She would admit herself beaten.
* * *
A party of pleasure to Upminster had been arranged and everyone was gathered for an early breakfast, which gave Diana the opportunity to make her apologies. There was work to be done in the orangery and Meggie and Florence wished to practise their dance. She made her announcement calmly, not looking at Alex who was at the head of the table. He said nothing, for which she was grateful, even though it showed how little he wanted her company. She thought miserably that it proved his offer to marry her had come from his head, not his heart.
The guests expressed their disappointment that she would not be joining them, Mrs Peters even offering to remain behind and help her with her preparations, but Diana was adamant that they should all go off and enjoy themselves. She slipped away from the breakfast table while Alex was caught up in conversation with Lord Goodge and made her way to the schoolroom, where she remained until the last of the carriages had driven away. Only then did she venture downstairs again. There was much to be done and she hoped fervently that being busy would keep her thoughts away from her own troubles for the rest of the day.
* * *
The orangery was looking splendid: Mrs Wallace had worked miracles with the muslin curtains overnight. They had been washed, dried and pressed and were now in place again, softening the lines of the long windows. The pictures Diana had chosen had been carried across and it did not take her long to decide where they should be displayed. Then she turned her attention to the chairs and tables that needed to be arranged so that everyone would have a good view of the dais. A few benches were placed around the walls of the anteroom but everything else was banished to an empty barn, including the old sofa, where she had given herself to Alex. She could not bear to have that reminder of her ruin and disgrace on display.
Mrs Appleton was accompanying the girls’ performance that evening and she had been invited to Chantreys for dinner, but Diana had sent a carriage to bring her to Chantreys for an hour at noon to play for the girls’ rehearsal. Their dance had been choreographed by Chantal and Suzanne, and as the little girls skipped, jumped and twirled about the stage Diana wished the two dancers could be present to see how well it looked. Indeed, she wished they could have been there to take her place at the side of the stage, from where she would introduce the ballad Meggie and Florence were to sing and narrate the little story they had made up to accompany their dance.
‘Too late now,’ she told herself as the last notes died away and the girls moved to the front of the dais to make their curtsies to an imaginary audience. ‘But tonight I will perform my last duty as hostess here. I shall not stay for the ball.’
As if conjured by her words, a footman came hurrying into the orangery to inform her that Madame Francot had arrived.
‘Ah, she has brought your ballgown ready for tomorrow,’ cried Florence, clapping her hands. Diana wondered if she should tell the children now that she would be leaving before the ball but she did not have the courage.
‘How exciting,’ declared Mrs Appleton, misreading Diana’s hesitation. ‘Pray, Miss Grensham, go on up to the house and see your modiste. I
can easily run through the music again with the young ladies and then escort them to the schoolroom before I make my way home. You have been so good as to put a carriage at my disposal today, so I am only too happy to do anything I can to help you.’
In the face of such kindness Diana had not the heart to argue. She found Madame Francot and her assistant had already been shown up to her bedchamber, where Jenny was in attendance, her face alight with excitement. A large box lay open on the floor, surrounded by a sea of tissue paper, but that was soon forgotten. Draped over the sofa was a gown of vivid red silk embroidered with gold thread at the neck and hem.
It was so lovely that Diana had to steel herself to utter the words she had been rehearsing all the way from the orangery. She dismissed her maid and then turned to face the modiste.
‘Madame Francot, so good of you to come but I am afraid it is a wasted journey. I shall not now be requiring the ballgown.’ When the lady’s pencilled eyebrows rose alarmingly she felt compelled to explain. ‘I am not going to the ball tomorrow after all. You will be paid in full, of course...’
‘Tsk, that is unfortunate, mademoiselle,’ replied the modiste. ‘I shall not ask you why. I can see from your sad face that something most catastrophique has occurred. But tell me, if you please, if you are withdrawing for ever from the eye of the public? Are you, per’aps, to become a nun?’
Even through her misery Diana was obliged to smile.
‘No, nothing like that.’
‘Bon. Then the journey he is not wasted. S’il vous plaît, mademoiselle, to try on the gown and we will make the final adjustments.’
In vain did Diana argue, Madame Francot stood as one not to be moved and in the end it was simpler to acquiesce.
* * *
‘Voilà,’ declared Madame Francot. ‘C’est fini.’
Diana regarded herself in the long glass. A stranger looked back at her. The face was pale, but despite her unhappiness the vivid red of the gown made her eyes sparkle like jewels and it enhanced the rich fiery glow of her hair. She had been very uncertain when madame had suggested the colour to her, but now she saw that the modiste had been perfectly correct, the scarlet silk became her very well. Diana felt a sigh building up inside her.
‘If you cannot wear the gown tomorrow night then I am sorry for it,’ declared Madame Francot, regarding her with a professional eye. ‘But this gown, it is a triumph. You must keep it to wear on another occasion.’
Without waiting for a reply she turned to her assistant, rapping out her orders to pack away the needles and thread. Diana took one last look in the mirror, thinking of what might have been. Then she sent for Jenny to help her back into her day gown before she slipped away, leaving her maid to reverently pack away the gown and see Madame Francot off the premises.
* * *
Diana was descending the stairs when Alex came in, dusty from riding. She quickly turned back but his voice stopped her.
‘I would appreciate a few moments of your time, Miss Grensham.’
With Christopher the footman standing wooden-faced by the front door Diana felt she could not refuse. She descended the last few steps to the hall.
‘I did not expect to see you until dinner, my lord.’
‘No, I left the party in Upminster and rode back ahead of them.’ He strode to his study and held open the door. ‘I am expecting my great-aunt and her protégée later today.’
‘I am well aware of that. The arrangements for their reception are in hand.’
‘I beg your pardon, I did not mean to question your ability to welcome them.’
We are talking like mere acquaintances, thought Diana as she went into the study. Polite, civil. Distant.
Excruciating.
Alex shut the door. ‘Diana, about yesterday—’
‘No!’ That wound was too raw. ‘We will not discuss it further, if you please.’
‘But we must. I would not have you think that what happened in the orangery was part of any plan to remove you from Chantreys.’
‘Nevertheless you have succeeded in your original design,’ she replied coldly. ‘I cannot remain here. And I can no longer act as governess to Meggie and Florence.’
‘What?’
His shock only increased her anger. She said bitterly, ‘What did you expect to happen? I acted foolishly. I no longer consider myself a, a fit and proper person to look after the children. I will leave in the morning.’
His brow darkened. ‘You cannot quit so abruptly. You are my hostess.’
‘Better I go now than wait to be denounced. Lady Frances has already guessed what happened yesterday. I will not remain to be publicly humiliated.’
‘No one is going to humiliate you,’ he ground out. ‘I will speak to Frances.’
Diana’s hand fluttered.
‘There is no point. What’s done is done.’
He caught her fingers.
‘There is a solution, Diana. Marry me. We will announce our betrothal at the ball. That would place you firmly under my protection.’
She snatched her hand away. ‘To save my name? No, I thank you.’
Somehow she kept her head up. He must never know how much he had hurt her. All she had left now was her pride and she must hold on to that at all costs. She took a deep breath and pronounced with slow deliberation, ‘If I loved you, my lord, then perhaps I might accept your offer. As it is I prefer to make my own way in the world.’
Diana forced herself to look steadily into the slate-grey eyes that stared at her beneath the dark and frowning brows. She tried to forget when she had seen those same eyes smouldering with passion, she thrust from her mind the memory of being held in his arms, surrendering to his kiss. Even now, if he had dragged her into his arms she knew she would crumble.
The silence stretched on. A tiny, almost unacknowledged hope flickered that he might beg her to stay, tell her that he could not live without her.
He turned away. Hope died.
* * *
‘Very well.’ Alex stared down at the desk, idly moving the inkwell and straightening the pens. He had spent the night preparing for the meeting, vowed he would not hurt her any more than had already done. She did not want him, did not love him. He must respect that. At least she was honest enough to admit it. She was not like all the others, who pretended to care when all they wanted was his money and his title. Even his first, disastrous love affair had been a lie. The older woman had used him because her ailing husband could not satisfy her. She had never loved him and he had soon been replaced by another, more experienced youth. No woman had ever loved him for himself, but he had thought it did not matter. After that initial schoolboy infatuation he had never allowed it to matter.
‘Very well,’ he said again. ‘I cannot force you to remain, but I would beg you to consider the children. To leave so precipitately would cause them great distress.’
‘If I leave tomorrow you will still be here for them.’
‘But I am not you, Diana.’ The words were wrenched from him. ‘You have been everything to them since their parents died. You were their sole comfort in those first months while I—’ He broke off, swallowing hard. ‘I was too caught up in my own grief to spare a thought for their loss. If you go, without a word, it will break their hearts.’
And mine.
He looked up. ‘At least stay until I can find another governess to take your place. I need your help for that. You know what will suit the girls. John Timothy will draw up a list of suitable candidates and I will send them down to you for approval.’ He saw the flicker of indecision in her eyes and pressed home the advantage. ‘In a day or two the guests will be gone and I shall return to London. You and the girls will have Chantreys to yourself again.’
‘That would give Meggie and Florence time to grow accustomed to my leaving,’ she acknow
ledged.
Alex felt the weight lifting from his chest. He had some irrational feeling that if he could keep her at Chantreys there was a chance she might change her mind.
‘And you will continue as my hostess?’
‘I will stay for the girls’ performance tonight, but that is all.’
‘But the ball—’
‘Nothing would persuade me to attend!’
Her vehemence cut him. He realised how much he had been looking forward to seeing her in all her finery, dancing with her, showing her off as his future bride. How on earth had he handled things so badly? She was close to tears and he knew he must tread carefully.
‘As you wish. But tomorrow I would like Meggie and Florence to spend some time with my great-aunt and I am aware she can be quite formidable, they would be much more comfortable if you were with them. And it would be a pity for you to miss the dinner, when you went to such pains to plan it with Cook.’ He went on quickly. ‘You need not think that I shall impose my company upon you, or importune you any further. You may slip away directly after dinner, when everyone goes off to change. I will tell the marchioness then that you have been taken ill and ask her to stand in as hostess.’
‘Yes, yes, that will do.’
Diana felt the tears pressing. If she did not get away soon they would spill over and she was determined not to show such weakness before him.
‘You agree to my plan?’
Another steadying breath was required before she could speak.
‘Yes, I agree. Now if you will excuse me I must get on—’
She almost ran to the door.
‘Diana.’ His voice halted her. She stood with her back to him, her hand grasping the door handle. ‘I never meant to hurt you.’
She closed her eyes, squeezing back the hot tears. He sounded so humble that she almost believed him.
Almost.
* * *
