A Question of Impropriety

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Repairs cost money.’

  ‘Having un livable hovels costs even more in the long run—the land owner has a duty towards his tenants.’

  ‘Quite so.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And I am here to see my buildings. Please judge me on my own merits, Miss Clare.’

  ‘And have you? Have you seen what needs to be done—the holes in the roofs and the smoking chimneys?’ Diana asked quickly before her courage failed. She had seen the conditions that the people lived in. Concern for other people and their welfare had been her salvation. She knew that.

  ‘I have never shirked my responsibilities, Miss Clare.’ He held up his hand, preventing her from saying anything more. ‘Sir Cuthbert was not overly concerned with his estate and his manager was in competent. We can agree on that. It is in far worse shape than he led me to believe. Give me time to put things right and I am certain you will be pleasantly pleased with the situation.’

  ‘Are you saying that you would not have taken the estate if you had known?’ Diana shifted the basket to her other hip. A shiver ran down her back. She was not sure why the thought alarmed her.

  ‘I always enjoy a challenge, Miss Clare. It saves me from getting bored.’

  ‘And boredom is un desirable?’

  ‘You are only leading a half-life, if you have a safe existence.’ His eyes flashed steel. ‘In order to live, you need to take risks.’

  ‘Ah, does that mean you will be leaving soon?’

  ‘I believe that Ladywell Park offers me enough challenges for the present.’ Lord Coltonby stopped by an apple tree. He picked two apples off the branch hanging over the road, and offered one to her. Diana took the fruit with trembling fingers and held it while he took a large bite of his. ‘I dislike predicting the future. It can change in an instant.’

  Diana rapidly placed the apple in her basket, resisting the temptation. ‘Sir Cuthbert always hated being here after he had had a taste of London. The attractions of the city can exert a strong pull.’

  ‘Sir Cuthbert and I are not alike.’ He took another large bite of his apple. ‘My primary interest is racing, Miss Clare, the breeding and the running of horses. It is how I earn my crust of bread. Northumberland grass is sweet. The air is clean. The purses and plates are rich because the local landowners have the coin from coal. It is a simple equation.’

  ‘Everyone in the village will be glad that something is being made of Ladywell Park. It was once a prosperous estate.’

  ‘It will be again. Better than before. I intend to build a new house over looking the Tyne. I have had plans for such a house drawn for a very long time.’ Brett finished his apple and tossed away the core. ‘I made a vow once.’

  ‘Which is why you wish my brother to sell you the land?’ Diana inclined her head. The reason for Lord Coltonby’s attention was now clear. He thought she could exert some influence over Simon. She should have guessed. The knowledge made her both relieved and vaguely disappointed. ‘I am very sorry, Lord Coltonby, but I have no say over what my brother does.’

  His eyes widened slightly. ‘How did you know I was going to ask you?’

  ‘It stands to reason. Simon was in a frightful temper when he returned home last night.’

  ‘I would consider it a great personal favour if you would at least speak to him.’ He paused. ‘We shared a landing at Cambridge and it was not successful. I fear he holds my youthful indiscretions against me.’

  ‘My brother keeps his personal feelings out of business.’

  ‘Does he?’ Lord Coltonby’s lips twisted upwards. ‘I wonder if that is a good thing, or not.’

  ‘He never consults me on such things.’ Diana tightened her grip on the basket. The conversation was meandering down an unexpected path and she had no wish to repeat the High Street incident. ‘Now tell me, is the grass really that much sweeter than Warwickshire? Does the location give you that much advantage? Everyone in Ladywell will want to know.’

  ‘Much.’ His eyes grew grave. ‘Racing horses is my passion. When I race, I race to win. And I want to be where the biggest purses are.’

  ‘I will remember that.’ She gave an uneasy laugh. ‘I doubt we will have the occasion to race or even to pit our wits against each other.’

  ‘You never know. You might enjoy it.’ The words poured out of him, smooth as velvet. She could almost feel them stroking her skin. ‘Are you issuing challenges now, Miss Clare?’

  ‘No.’ Diana forced her chin to rise and refused to let him see her discomfort. He was trying to unsettle her, that was all. She tried to ignore how silent the track had become and how the sounds of the children playing were now quite distant. ‘If nothing else, London taught me caution. I found it hard to credit how many in appropriate suggestions were put to me before Algernon was cold in the ground. Good day to you, Lord Coltonby.’

  She took several steps and then felt his hand on her elbow, preventing her from leaving. His breath fanned her cheek, warming it. Diana kept her body still and concentrated on a stone in the road. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘I can only apologise for the crassness of Songbird’s brethren, but you mistook my meaning.’ His voice became clipped, his eyes chilled. ‘I would never use such a strata gem to force a woman to do anything that she did not want to do. You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Clare, with or without your spinster’s cap.’

  She knew the combination of her current gown and cap made her look bilious and forty. Even Simon had remarked on its ugliness. She had been pleased with this before, but suddenly she wanted Lord Coltonby to look at her in a different way. A faint tremor went through her. It was as if she had opened Pandora’s box and all thoughts and desires she had tried to suppress or hide rushed out in one fell swoop. Maybe she was wonton after all. Maybe all this attraction was coming from her. Maybe her cap no longer protected her. Maybe it never had. No, it had to. It was just further back on her head than she would wish.

  Diana jerked the ribbons of her cap hard. The right-hand ribbon and half the cap came away in her hand. Her insides turned over and the stain of humiliation flooded on to her cheeks as she saw the gleam in his eyes.

  ‘It still does not suit you. Heed my advice, Miss Clare—get rid of the cap. Better yet, burn it. A truly determined suitor would take no notice in any case. It only gives the illusion of protection.’

  The man was in sup portable. How dare he say such things! Her cap was important. It kept her safe. It showed the world that she was a lady, that she was not in the market for a husband. She would have to repair the cap immediately. ‘Illusion of protection?’

  ‘I once knew a man who swore that a certain rabbit’s foot would keep him from illness and ruinous debts. He paid a tremendous amount for it. He even cajoled me into returning to a nest of thieves and cut-throats to retrieve it after he had been injured in a fight and could not leave his bed. I tried once and was beaten back, but the pleas of the man only in creased as he begged me to help him. Bagshott had suggested caution and to forget it, but I opted for the bold approach and retrieved the item. I had promised, you see.’

  ‘And what happened to the man after…?’

  ‘My brother died of typhoid with the rabbit’s foot clutched tightly between his fingers. And he was in the process of removing to the Continent to escape his creditors.’

  ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be. I merely sought to illustrate what happens when one puts one’s faith in objects. Actions are what counts, not objects, Miss Clare.’

  ‘Good day to you, Lord Coltonby.’

  ‘And you, Miss Clare.’

  Brett watched her go—her skirts swung about her legs, revealing a well-turned ankle. The encounter had gone better than he had dared hope.

  A light suggestion. Friendly banter. Nothing too overt. Miss Clare in the end would do as he wished.

  He smiled. And there was very little Simon Clare could do about it, except fume and fret. He looked forward to seeing Clare’s face, but mostly he wanted to see what Miss Clare would
do next. The chase in many ways was far more satisfying than the final surrender.

  ‘I had expected you to be at home.’ Simon’s annoyed tone greeted Diana before she had even had time to put the basket away.

  ‘I was out visiting the colliers’ families. Mrs Dalton is confined with her third child and the Widow Tyrwhitt has taken to her bed.’ She paused and removed her bonnet. ‘It is my afternoon for making the rounds. You agreed on the importance of this. It is our duty to make sure they are looked after.’

  ‘Yes, yes, you do a fine job. God knows that I cannot see the point. People always have com plaints and they fail to understand the virtues of business.’

  ‘Simon.’ Diana pressed her lips together. They had had this argument several times over the past few years. It bothered her that Simon appeared to care more about the machinery rather than the people who made it work.

  ‘Later, sister. There is something you need to see.’

  ‘What have you done, Simon?’ Diana’s corset suddenly felt too tight as she looked at her brother. He was swaying back and forth like Robert did when he’d found a new bird’s nest. He was up to something.

  ‘You need to come with me to the colliery. Straight away. There is no time to change.’

  ‘To the colliery? Now?’ Diana glanced out of the window at the lengthening shadows. ‘It will be nearly dark by the time we get there. Can’t this wait until morning? I can then take a basket to the Widow Bosworth. You know how she likes company now that her boys are working down the mine.’

  ‘There is something I want you to see.’ He put his hand on hers. ‘Please, Diana, say you will come? For me.’

  When he looked like that with his dark green eyes, Diana was forcibly reminded of how her brother had been before he had married Jayne, before he had become obsessed with order and control. Before business had ruled his life. Whatever new thing he wanted to show her, it would take her mind off Lord Coltonby and that could only be a good thing. ‘I will come.’

  ‘Behold the future!’ Simon pro claimed when they arrived at the colliery.

  Diana stared at the huge black machine on wheels. A gigantic smoke stack was at one end and at the other, a place for someone to stand. Her mouth went dry. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A travelling engine based on adhesion rather than pulling or ratchet.’

  A travelling engine. The holy grail of every coal owner in the district. Besides William Hedley at Wylam and the viewer at Killingworth, she doubted another man in the whole of England could make a travelling engine work.

  ‘Where did you get it?’ she asked, coming to stand by Simon. ‘Who drew up the plans?’

  ‘I acted decisively.’ Simon’s expression was that of a rapt school boy. ‘Isn’t it a thing of beauty?’

  ‘But how did you get it? Only last week, you said that you could not find one. Or even obtain the plans for one.’

  ‘I have ways and means, Diana.’ Simon hooked his thumbs into his waist coat. For the first time in months, Diana saw him smile, a genuine smile instead of the tight-lipped one that did not reach his eyes. ‘I had to take the opportunity. All the other masters would have given their eye teeth. Once it is up and running, whole vistas will open out in front of us. I can start up Little Ladywell again, run wagons along the disused wagon-way. Then no one can claim that the land is worth less and redundant.’

  Diana sucked in her breath. The disused wagon-way. The land Lord Coltonby wanted to purchase. While she did not doubt Simon’s dedication, she wondered how much he was being spurred on by his desire to antagonise his old rival. ‘And you discussed this with Lord Coltonby?’

  ‘They delivered it today. I could hardly discuss it before I had the engine.’ Simon advanced towards the big black machine, and ran his hand down its side. ‘Hedley is right. The only way an engine will work is to be free running, not on a ratchet system.’

  ‘And how much will it cost? Who are the other investors? You have to be practical, Simon.’ Diana crossed her arms, and refused to let her brother divert her attention.

  ‘Not if I run it along the old wagon-way. I worked it all out in my mind. It can be done. The old staith can be reopened. And I will have no over-privileged aristocrat telling me how to run my business.’

  ‘Simon!’ Diana said through gritted teeth. ‘You are behaving in a high-handed fashion. You will antagonise him. I remember the quarrels you had with Sir Cuthbert.’

  ‘But he had learnt the errors of his way. Common sense prevailed.’

  ‘Only because he needed money.’ Diana drew a breath. She would have to explain about her encounter earlier and what she had seen. ‘Lord Coltonby is different. He isn’t intent on drinking the port cellar dry and gambling away his inheritance.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about Diana? I knew Coltonby at university. Gaming and drinking are the man’s life. He was a seven-bottle man. And I could not count the number of card tables he graced, how many brawls he was involved in.’

  ‘University was a long time ago. It strikes me that he is someone who you would want to have as an ally, not as an enemy.’

  ‘He was the over-privileged son of an earl. He threw his weight around. Humiliated me. And I refuse to bow to his wishes and desires. He is not getting one inch of my ground until he has sweated blood for it.’

  Diana stared at the large black machine. She had never realised how deeply Simon’s experiences at university had affected him. But she had also heard the passion in Lord Coltonby’s voice when he spoke of his estate and his desire to do something with it. There was more to the man, if only Simon would see it.

  ‘Simon, you need to grow up and think beyond what happened to you all those years ago.’

  Brother and sister glared at each other. Finally, Simon looked away. He loosened his stock. ‘Once I get The Duke to run properly, I will see whether I need that strip of land. If not, I will sell it to him for the going rate, not some paltry sum. I only offered it as a sop to Biddlestone when he said he might invest in the engine. Does that satisfy you?’

  ‘It will have to.’ Her stays seemed to pinch more tightly than before and a pain developed behind the back of Diana’s eyes. Simon had decided to set himself on a collision course with Lord Coltonby and that did not bode well for anyone. She concentrated on the engine. ‘But why are you calling it The Duke? After the Duke of Northumberland? One of the royal Dukes? Are you hoping for investment?’

  ‘No, because it is noisy and belches quite frequently.’ Simon gave a brilliant smile. ‘The steam pressure needs to be high. Nearly to the breaking point of the boiler.’

  Diana watched her brother with a sinking heart. Stubborn and unwilling to listen to reason. There were times when she wanted to shake him. He thought he could ride rough shod over everyone and every thing in his path. He did not mind the enemies he made as long as the business prospered. Some day, he would realise that there was more to life than proving his business acumen. ‘Simon, there are those who doubt that anyone can make a reliable travelling engine.’

  ‘I will do it. When have I ever failed with machines?’ He caught both her hands. Simon gave a lightning quick smile, transforming his features and making him more like the boy she remembered from child hood, rather than the embittered man she’d discovered when she returned from London. ‘Trust me to do the right thing. It will work, Diana. I know it will. Have faith in me.’

  ‘I do have faith, Simon. How could you ask that of me?’ A shiver went down Diana’s back. ‘I hope you are right. I don’t think Lord Coltonby is a good man to cross.’

  ‘Neither am I, Diana, neither am I.’

  Diana offered up a silent prayer that it would not come that. She glanced one last time at The Duke, sitting there black and brooding. How much was bravado on Simon’s part?

  Chapter Five

  ‘Is it true what Miranda Bolt says?’ Charlotte Ortner asked Diana, leaning over her tea cup, her face alight with excitement.

  ‘What does Miss Bolt say now?’ Dia
na regarded the candlesticks on the Ortners’ mantelpiece. Her weekly round of visiting had proved more tedious than she’d thought possible. Everywhere she went hummed with whispers of Lord Coltonby and his arrival in the neighbourhood, endless questions and speculations. One would be forgiven for thinking nothing else had happened recently in Ladywell or the Tyne Valley. She had only a few minutes left before she could make her excuses and leave. She always stayed precisely a quarter of an hour—no more, no less. ‘What new entertainment for the ball has she devised?’

  ‘Miranda says that Lord Coltonby singled her out for special attention and it is merely a question of time. She said you were a witness and saw his preferential treatment at close quarters.’

  ‘Charlotte!’ her mother called. ‘Modulation!’

  Charlotte lowered her tone and glanced over her shoulder, but, seeing her mother was actively greeting new arrivals, she continued in a low voice, ‘I thought I could ask you as you weren’t in the running, so to speak. Mama will be livid if Lady Bolt beats her in this marriage stake. And you are the only person who knows the truth. Does he have a penchant for Miranda Bolt?’

  ‘I am really not able to indulge in idle speculation or gossip.’ Diana folded her hands on her lap. Trust Miranda Bolt to twist the encounter. There had to be some way of rectifying the situation without calling attention to her own part.

  ‘But Miranda said you were there and would confirm every thing.’ Charlotte’s eyes danced and her mouth quirked upwards. ‘Mama’s eye is very firmly fixed on Lord Coltonby at the moment. Miranda is planning a strata gem for the ball, and so naturally I wanted to know. Does Miranda tell a tale that is too good to be true?’

  Diana shifted on her seat. She needed to stop Miranda Bolt. If she continued in this fashion, the result would be heart ache—or worse. Everyone appeared to have little understanding of a London rake’s methods. Lord Coltonby would only be caught when he chose to be and not before. ‘I have no reason to believe any wedding bells will be ringing for Lord Coltonby in the near future.’