‘It is good to see that you are fearless, Miss Clare.’
She gave the bays one last pat and then stepped away from them. ‘They are high-stepping beauties. I would love to be able to sit behind them…’ she finished whist fully.
‘Now, come driving with me now.’
A strange light flickered in her eyes and he wondered if he had lost her. He willed her to say yes.
‘To drive or to watch you drive?’
‘You would have to prove your worth before I would allow you to handle the ribbons.’ Brett gazed into her eyes. They were changing again.
‘Many more people claim to be able to drive to the inch, than can actually achieve the feat.’ Brett shrugged.
‘And how does one prove this, if you refuse to let them drive?’
He regarded Miss Clare’s gloved hands. They looked strong and capable, but small. He shuddered to think what could happen if the horses bolted. The bays took all of his strength to control. ‘Before I allow my horses to be driven by anyone—man, woman or child—I make sure that I know the driver is up to the mark.’
‘Caution? Hardly a word I would have associated with you.’
‘Practical. It prevents accidents.’ He touched his hand to his hat.
‘Why? How difficult are they to handle?’
‘They are a challenge. I enjoy challenges. They fly when I let them, but in the hands of an in experienced driver, I would not like to be responsible for the consequences. Are you tempted, Miss Clare?’
She gave the brim of her bonnet a tug, shading her face, deliberately hiding it from him.
‘I came to town in the gig.’
‘My tiger can return it.’ He held up his hand and took a deep breath. It felt as if he were playing a very high-stakes game of whist. One final try, then he would be forced to resort to another gambit. But he would win. She wanted this. He could sense it in his bones. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour. Are you prepared to take a ride behind the horses? To feel the wind against your face? They have a turn of speed that is almost unequalled. Of course, if you prefer to return home in the company of your staid mare, I understand completely. Do not complain you were never asked.’
‘I am no coward.’ Diana fiddled with a button on her glove, weighing her options. Did she dare take the risk? Lord Coltonby had already made it abundantly clear that any attraction was on her part and her part alone. She was not risking her reputation. She was simply going for a drive with a neighbour, an entirely different thing. ‘I should like to feel the wind against my face.’
‘A drive home, nothing more.’ A faint smile played on his lips. His eyes held a distinct gleam. ‘I wish to be neighbourly, Miss Clare.’
Diana wet her lips, took once last glance down the High Street and nodded.
Chapter Six
Brett concentrated on the horses and the taut reins, rather than on the slim woman sitting next to him, but every so often he glanced over to where she sat, face entranced, watching the horses’ every move. He had half-expected her to cling to his arm, the instant he allowed the horses to leap forward, but her back remained resolutely straight and her hands folded. She showed no inkling of screaming, but every aspect of enjoying the ride.
Colour had flooded back into her cheeks and her eyes shone with a blue-green intensity. She leant forwards slightly as if she was urging the horses to go even faster. The wind caught her bonnet and sent it flying back wards.
‘I had quite forgotten what it was like to have the wind blow throw my hair,’ she said with a laugh as she struggled to replace the bonnet, holding on to it with one hand.
‘And do you like it?’
‘I like it very much. It is exhilarating.’
‘Good, I am glad. If I have made you remember joy, then it pleases me.’
‘Oh, yes, joy.’ She leant forward. ‘Can you make them go faster?’
Brett flicked the reins and the horses sped away. He knew in that instant that he had never seen a woman more alive. Her love of carriages and fast horses shone from her—but it also made her dangerous.
He pulled on the ribbons and the horses came to an abrupt halt.
‘Why have you stopped here?’ A furrow appeared between her brows as she turned in her seat, looking up and down the deserted road. Her hand clutched the side of the curricle and the bright colour faded from her face, draining all the life from her features. ‘Have I been foolish in the extreme? You gave your word, Lord Coltonby. Straight home.’
‘We are going back to your house, but I wanted to stop here for a moment. I wanted privacy for our conversation. We need to get the parameters in order.’
‘Take me back,’ she squeaked. ‘Now! I command you! I beg you! Do as I ask.’
Brett resisted the urge to curse. He had misjudged the moment. He had to gain her trust, but certain things needed to be said before they went further. He always con ducted his romances in this manner. It made things less messy when the time came to part. He wanted Diana Clare to have no false expectations, no excuse to claim breach of understanding.
‘I have my code, Miss Clare. You are as safe here as you were in the library. I merely wanted to speak with you privately. Forgive the slight deception.’
‘Privately?’ Her eyes widened, much as a horse’s did when it was spooked.
‘To make sure you understand that I have no intention of marrying.’ Brett made sure his words were said very slowly and un hurriedly, almost singsong. ‘My attention is not to be perceived as a court ship. Marriage does not figure on my horizon.’
‘Am I supposed to swoon at this earth-shattering news, Lord Coltonby? You are not telling me anything that I don’t already know.’ She gestured frantically towards the road. ‘You may drive on, having said your pretty piece. Allow me to reassure your vanity by saying that I have no intention of marrying you.’
‘It is well we understand each other. I would hate for a miscommunication.’
‘As would I.’ She turned her face away.
He reached out and his hand covered hers. Brett felt it tremble slightly and let it go. He would accept the strictures of their relationship for now, but he intended to have more. There was a passionate woman under her frosty exterior. He was certain of it. Brett silently cursed all who had made her this way. She was like some nervous wild thing, intent on camouflaging herself so that she could escape unnoticed. London gossip had badly scorched her, but he could see the woman inside trying to escape. ‘You are a welcome distraction from the necessary business of sorting out the estate, and I value your friend ship. I enjoy getting your perspective on the problems I face. Biddlestone nearly ran it into the ground.’
‘It was lucky you acquired it, then. It is an estate that begs to be loved.’
‘But seems unlovable to the casual observer.’
‘And are you a casual observer?’
‘I pride myself on my keen eye, Miss Clare.’
Diana shifted uneasily on the curricle seat, increasing the space between her and Lord Coltonby. With his thigh pressed against her leg, she found it difficult to concentrate on anything but his physique. He was speaking of more than the estate. It terrified her that he might be speaking of her. ‘I need none of your flummery, Lord Coltonby. If you are going to persist in this sort of behaviour, we will have to return to being the barest of acquaintances. We need to decide which of the cottages you should…’
‘Brett.’ His voice positively purred. And the look he gave her was pure male. A look that sent her pulse racing. The look of a rake, a practised seducer, she reminded her heart. ‘I really must insist you call me by my Christian name, if we are to be intimate.’
Intimate. Diana felt her cheeks grow hot at the picture it conjured up in her mind. She banished it, locked the thought away in that little part of her mind where she never permitted herself to go. Forced herself to remember the pain and humiliation she had suffered and to silence the little voice which pro tested that Brett was different. Diana took a deep breath and r
egained control. She would hold true to her promise. She would never be seduced again. She had learnt her lesson.
‘Acquaintances implies no intimacy.’ She tilted her chin in the air and focused on the horses’ ears. ‘Lord Coltonby or Coltonby will surely suffice. I cannot address you by your Christian name. Think of the scandal.’
‘I must disagree with you. The word said in private will have no effect.’ His eyes danced with an unholy mischief and Diana began to wonder what precisely she had agreed to. She should never have behaved impulsively and agreed to the drive. She should have contained her temper. When would she learn not to give in to temptation? Reason was what was important. Brett’s hand slid down her shoulder and his fingers curled around hers, held them in a light but gentle grasp. Diana resisted the urge to tighten her fingers about his. ‘Try it. Once. Here and now. No one but me will listen.’
‘But I…’ Her tongue became thick in her mouth and she turned her head away. It seemed there were two of her—the lady she had promised over and over again to be on her journey from London to Newcastle, and then her true self, the one who could not resist temptation. She had thought the latter gone, but she had only been slumbering, waiting her chance. But was Diana ready for heart ache? For the pain, for the scandal?
‘Give it a try. You will find it quite simple. Allow my name to flow from your lips.’
‘Brett,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her lips ached as if they had been brushed by his. She touched her fingertips to her mouth. Concentrated hard. ‘There, I have said it. Are you satisfied?’
‘Say it like you mean it. Roll the R’s.’
‘Brett!’ Diana said, through gritted teeth. ‘And I never roll my words.’
‘I would have preferred honey-sweet seduction, but I will take the tartness of vinegar for now.’ He clicked his tongue and the curricle began to move. Diana felt a sigh escape her throat. Of regret? Of disappointment? She refused to ponder the emotion.
‘You are incorrigible.’
‘So my nurses used to tell me.’ His laughter rang out, startling the wood pigeons in the trees.
‘You had more than one nurse?’
‘My brother and I had a succession of nurses. It depended on whether my father was in funds. My mother used to despair. The worst was that the roof leaked. In many ways, I was pleased to be rid of the Abbey after my brother died. Constant repairs and a house so riddled with damp that one should start anew.’
Diana absorbed the knowledge. ‘But your father was an earl. Surely he had the money to fix the roof and to keep the damp out.’
‘My father was also a poor gambler. He gave in to impulse and failed to do his research properly. Inclined to rush his fences. Neglected to ensure the settlement before his death.’
‘You are wealthy now. Or is that something else Lady Bolt has mistaken?’
‘My wealth is my own, Miss Clare. In that I have proved more adept than my brother or my father. The title I share with my fore bears. There is a difference.’ He clicked his tongue and the horses stirred, obeying every flick of his ribbons. There could be no doubt that the beasts knew who their master was. Their master, but not hers. She refused ever to have a master.
‘Stop! Stop!’ A young girl stepped out in to the road and waved her arms wildly. ‘Please stop, I beg you.’
Brett pulled hard on the horses and brought the curricle safely to a halt.
‘Jenny Satterwaite, what sort of mischief is this?’ Diana asked before the girl had the chance to say another word. ‘I know about the tricks you and your brother played on Widow Tyrwhitt.’
‘No trick, Miss Diana.’ Jenny drew a line in the dust with her toe. ‘And I did clean out her house, like. Mam said it were proper, like.’
‘Then what is the difficulty? Is it your father again?’
‘No, Miss Diana. He’s back at the mine.’
‘Is some hazard up ahead?’ Brett asked smoothly.
Jenny shook her head. ‘It’s me mam. She’s stuck. Stuck in the stair well and there ain’t none that can help. Me and Jimmy have pulled and pulled, but she ain’t moving.’
‘How did it happen?’
‘The stair boards were loose, but no one has fixed them. We’ve been waiting for the new lord to come. Me mam said he would put it right.’
Diana shifted uncomfortably, not daring to look at Brett. She could not bear it if he refused this child.
‘He is here and he will help if he is able.’ Brett leapt from the curricle. ‘Do you have someone who can hold the horses?’
Jenny’s brow puckered. Then she nodded. ‘Jimmy can. He loves horses. Da is hoping to get him a job at the mine as soon as there’s an opening.’
She ran off back in to the house, shouting. Diana stared at Brett in astonishment. What did he plan on doing? ‘Shall we send somebody out?’
‘Forgive me, Miss Clare but you will be slightly delayed. I believe this woman has the greater need.’
A small boy, a year or so younger than her nephew Robert, came out of the house. His eyes widened when he saw the horses. ‘I thought Jenny was funning me.’
‘If I give you a penny, can you hold these horse? Tight, mind, and don’t let them move.’
‘I will do it, sir.’ The boy stood straighter.
Brett held out his hand to Diana. ‘Right, shall we see about this woman in distress?’
They followed Jenny into the cottage and immediately were greeted by a series of moans. Diana’s heart twisted. She had half-expected it to be another one of Jenny’s tall tales, but Mrs Satterwaite was lying half in and half out of the stair well, her face creased in pain.
Without hesitation, Brett went over and lifted her out. There was a great cracking as the board gave way, but the woman emerged to great squeals of delight from Jenny.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Mrs Satterwaite gave a tired smile. ‘I had no idea how I’d have kept going till them that lives next door came home.’
‘Is there some where you can rest?’ Diana asked. The cottage with its narrow stairs was even darker and danker than she remembered from her visits.
‘Bed’s upstairs. We had to let the down stairs room go and move upstairs now that money’s tight.’
‘Look after this.’ Brett took off his coat and handed it to Diana. Her fingers curled around the warm cloth and held it close. ‘I believe I can fix this—temporarily. Boards, nails and a hammer, if you please, young Jenny Satterwaite.’
The girl ran off and quickly produced them. Diana watched as Brett nailed the boards in place, covering the rotten patches. Then he tested each of the other stairs. ‘Not perfect, but it will suffice for now. I will send the workmen to fix it properly tomorrow.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ Mrs Satterwaite’s eyes grew big. ‘If you please, my lord, I’ve been telling me man about those boards for an age. He is a good man, Miss Diana. It were just the accident that turned his head.’
‘It will be sorted now. I intend to look after my tenants properly.’ The words echoed in the small cottage. Before, she had thought his words were easy, but now she could see that he meant them. He cared about these people. ‘I trust you have no objections, Miss Clare.’
He took his coat from her unresisting fingers and they returned outside. Jimmy Satterwaite held the horses. His face was screwed up into an intense look of concentration. At Brett’s approach, the horses pawed the ground but Jimmy clung on with dogged determination, preventing the curricle from moving.
‘I doubt my tiger could have done better.’ Brett handed the boy a coin. ‘Come to my stables. I can always find a job for a boy who’s good with horses.’
Diana watched the boy run back into the cottage, shouting the news. ‘You are not what I expected.’
‘Neither are you,’ he murmured as the curricle started moving once again. ‘And do I have your leave? May I call you Miss Diana like the Satterwaites do?’
‘If you must.’ She took a deep steadying breath and willed the ride to last a little longer, but al
ready the gates to the Park were looming ahead.
‘Diana, named after the huntress goddess of the moon.’ His voice purred her name, doing strange things to her stomach. ‘Have you been to Italy or Greece, Miss Diana? Have you seen how large and yellow the moon can be as it rises over the sea?’
‘I have only once been away from Northumberland—to London.’
‘A pity. Italy is beautiful, but with the war, Greece is more accessible.’ He slowed the horses to a steady walk. His arm came over the back. ‘I should like you to see Greece with its hidden glades and moonlit beaches.’
Diana ignored the slight tremor inside her. Words flowed from him as easily as water slipped down the Tyne.
‘I doubt that will be possible. I have too many responsibilities here.’
‘Will you go to the ball?’
Diana hesitated for a heart beat. She could readily imagine dancing a cotillion with him. It would be so easy…then she shook her head decisively. ‘My mind is made up there as well. Balls and I are not a happy combination.’
He reached out and touched her cheek. It took all of Diana’s will power not to turn her face into it, to press her lips against his palm. Her being shivered. ‘But attempting to change it could be amusing.’
‘I am not here to provide you with amusement.’ Diana moved her face away from the delicious torment.
‘Ah, the proper Diana Clare.’ His hand fell to his side.
‘You did promise—friend ship.’ Diana kept her back ram-rod straight. ‘Surely you are not going to break your word? Or was it simply a rake’s promise, one designed to lull me into a false sense of security?’
‘It is you who holds the reins. We will proceed at your pace.’ He put his hand over his heart. ‘On my honour as a gentleman.’
‘And your honour as a renowned whip?’
He sighed and rolled his eyes heavenwards. ‘That as well. You are perfectly safe with me, Diana, even if you persist in challenging me. Confirmed ape-leader that you are.’
‘Should I be flattered with your assessment?’ Diana asked in a tight voice.
A Question of Impropriety Page 8
