A Question of Impropriety

by Michelle Styles

  ‘There’s a letter from Lord Coltonby and you are seeking to distract me with tales of young master Robert,’ Rose said. ‘I heard from Lady Bolt’s house keeper you danced a waltz with him. A waltz, Miss Diana. Where did you ever learn such a thing?’

  ‘Yet more gossip, Rose?’ Diana lifted her cup to her lips and hoped Rose would ignore the sudden flaming of her cheeks. ‘The tongues have clearly been busy this morning. When shall I be informed of the engagement?’

  ‘There is something between you two. Why write to you? And come calling? Twice. And all this fuss to get the ball dress altered. A body wants to be prepared.’

  ‘You may put the patterns away, Rose.’ Diana swirled the tea in her cup. ‘There is no wedding in my future.’

  ‘But, miss…’

  ‘He has become a friend. He is being kind. He sees me as no more than a younger sister.’

  ‘Then your friend has sent you a note. One which you refuse to open. You should read it immediately.’ Rose crossed her arms. ‘He is unmarried and an earl. He will be looking for a wife, it stands to reason. You should stop doing yourself down, Miss Diana.’

  Diana’s throat closed. She refused to explain the how and the why, not after all these years. ‘I have sworn never to marry. There is Robert to think of. Stop attempting to match make, Rose.’

  ‘You get the strangest notions in your head, Miss Diana. Not marry? The women who say such things do not have an earl as a suitor. Nor a sizeable fortune. You are not thinking straight, Miss Diana.’

  ‘I enjoy my independence. Once I was delivered from a disastrous alliance, and I do not want to risk it again.’ At the sound of Rose’s disgusted noise, Titch began howling. Diana gave a sigh. ‘I suppose you will not give me any peace until I do open the note and respond to it.’

  ‘What do you have against the man?’

  ‘He had a certain reputation five years ago,’ Diana said slowly, drawing out each word. She bent down and picked Titch up, placated him with a corner of toast. ‘He would pursue anything in a skirt. I am a challenge to him. He finds me an amusement. He will soon tire of the chase and find other prey. It is what men do.’

  ‘Who are you trying to convince—me or you? I looked through my magazines. You know, the ones Mrs Sarsfield sends me. They go on about his horses and the purses that he was won, but he hasn’t been involved in the Crim. Con.’

  ‘He is infinitely discreet.’

  ‘Or maybe you underestimate your charms.’

  ‘I know what my charms are, Rose.’ Diana buried her face in Titch’s soft fur. The little dog gave her a disgusted look and leapt off the bed.

  ‘I know what they are as well, Miss Diana. And you are doing yourself a disservice. You are frightened of living. Any time a man comes sniffing around your skirts, you put up shields and blocks. Excuses.’

  ‘There is no need to be vulgar.’

  ‘But I am right.’ Rose gave a decided nod. ‘You have piqued his interest. You should capitalise on it. You never know where such friend ship might lead.’

  ‘I am being realistic, Rose.’ Diana knew her cheeks were glowing as the maid’s beam in creased. ‘Try to understand.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Diana, you can be such fun to tease. Think nothing of me. I am so pleased you have decided to wear pretty clothes again.’

  Diana broke open the seal and read the note. A few words leapt out at her and her breath stopped.

  A matter of urgency has arisen.

  ‘Is there a problem, Miss Diana? You have gone ashen.’

  ‘I think I will be going out after all.’

  ‘And you are still positive that he wants nothing to do with you?’

  Diana brushed the crumbs from the bed. ‘Ask Jenkins to get the gig ready.’

  ‘I am coming with you.’ Rose moved her ample bulk in front of Diana. ‘You are not without friends, Miss Diana—should you need them. You are far from being alone. This isn’t London. You have a certain standing in this community. People know and respect you.’

  Diana reached out and clutched Rose’s hand, relief flooding over her. She had dreaded the thought of travelling there on her own. This way it was somehow more respectable. But she kept wondering—what had Simon done now? Why did Brett need to see her? ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You wished to see me urgently?’ Diana held the crumpled note aloft when Brett entered his drawing room. She had spent an uncomfortable few moments alone after the butler had shown her into the room.

  Annoyingly, Brett appeared remarkably unruffled in his black morning coat and buckskin breeches. Even his neck cloth was impeccably tied. He gave no sign that he was under mental distress or that anything unto wards had happened. She was aware that her bonnet was slightly at an angle and that her old burgundy gown and pelisse had been the first ones to hand. And her hair was pulled back in a simple knot. Now she wished that she had taken more time, rather than starting out like some mad thing.

  ‘You are later than I’d thought you would be,’ he said finally. ‘I had expected you before noon. It is a shame, but there we have it. A few hours of daylight remain.’

  ‘You expected me to come here?’ Diana’s fingers curled around the note, twisting it beyond recognition.

  ‘Why else would I have sent the note?’ He tilted his head to one side as his eyes assessed her. ‘Asking you to visit.’

  ‘Demanding.’

  ‘Definitely asking.’

  ‘A polite note would have sufficed. The whole tone was alarming in the extreme.’ Diana swallowed hard. Since the moment she had first read the note, various possibilities had gone through her brain, each more dreadful than the last. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘I had no wish to alarm you. A situation has risen and I would like some advice.’

  ‘You have a funny way of going about it. I was certain some terrible disaster had befallen you, that something was dread fully wrong.’ Diana crossed her arms.

  ‘Nothing is wrong. There are things I wanted to discuss with you. Reasons to have you visit.’ Brett gave an unrepentant smile.

  ‘But I thought…Simon had been and there was trouble.’ Diana stumbled over the last few words.

  The corners of Brett’s lips twitched. ‘Can I help it if people choose to leap to illogical conclusions?’

  ‘You knew I would think that!’ Diana gritted her teeth, refused to give in to his increasingly engaging smile. ‘You are insufferable! I care about my reputation, even if you do not.’

  ‘Have no fear. I will not use it as some sort of bar gaining counter. What has passed between us, stays between us.’ His face sobered and a muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘Harm comes to reputations when people are indiscreet. No one has ever accused me of being indiscreet.’

  ‘I know the value of discretion.’ She pressed her hands together. She wished she knew exactly what was in his mind—but how to ask the questions when she feared the answers? ‘I know how the world works. One may do much, if it is not flaunted before the censorious eyes of society. Men have far more licence than women. Hypocrisy reigns.’

  ‘An advocate of Mary Wollstonecraft?’

  ‘The scales had dropped from my eyes before I read her work, but, yes, I see much to admire in it.’ She waited to hear his mocking rebuttal.

  ‘It is the way of the world. However much we might hope to change it.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I, per son ally, loathe hypocrisy.’

  ‘I…I am pleased you feel that way.’

  ‘Sit. Please sit.’

  ‘I would prefer to remain standing.’

  ‘The sofa will be more comfortable than your dance-worn feet, but if it is your pleasure…’

  Diana concentrated on the room rather than on his mouth or his hands. The furniture had changed very little since the Biddlestones’ occupancy, but Diana noted the other changes. Silver cups from various horse races now lined the tables and, instead of the long line of Biddlestone family portraits, the drawing room was full of portraits of horses, each labelled with the ride
r and winning races. A few simple changes but enough to exude a masculine rather than feminine touch. Diana waited for him to begin speaking.

  ‘Why did you summon me here? I have a right to know,’ she asked in a small voice when she could bear the silence no longer.

  ‘Are you interested in another commission?’

  ‘Commission?’ Diana tilted her head to see if she could detect a hint of laughter in his eyes, but he appeared serious. ‘What sort of commission?’

  ‘I need your help, your painterly eye, and it struck me that given today’s beautiful autumn weather, why wait? A man can achieve much if he acts. We are friends after all.’

  Friends? Eyes? He was about to say his goodbyes. A great lump rose in Diana’s throat. She did not want to say goodbye. With the greatest effort, she kept her face as neutral as she could.

  ‘I do value your friend ship, Brett,’ Diana said quickly before she had a chance to regret it. ‘I shall be disappointed of course to see you quit the neighbourhood. Your being here has added a certain colour to my life.’

  Diana found she had no desire to think about what might happen when this friend ship came to an end. That was all it was, she told herself firmly—an unlikely pairing that must inevitably come to an end and one that she would treasure.

  What had happened in the summer house was solely her fault. It had been a light kiss that had meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. He must have bestowed a thousand such kisses in his lifetime. She would not let him know what it had meant to her. What dancing in his arms last night had meant. And how the hours in front of her seemed to stretch out unceasingly.

  ‘Diana, are you attending me? You have a faraway expression in your eyes.’

  Dimly she realised that he had been speaking, gesturing with his hands, an excited expression on his face. ‘Yes, yes, I agree. It will be the best thing.’

  ‘You miss the point entirely, Diana. Are you quite the thing?’

  She put a hand to her head and sank down on the sofa. ‘I fear last night’s unaccustomed festivities made my head throb this morning.’

  ‘Too much of Lady Bolt’s punch?’ He stopped and reached for the bell. ‘I can remedy that. Lightly browned toast and copious amounts of tea. I was hoping for a stroll in the gardens, but your health is far more important. We shall have to do this the next fine day.’

  ‘You were explaining about your commission. What do you want me to do? I will pay attention now, I promise.’

  ‘There is a folly—a grotto—on the estate. It is rather plain and un adorned.’ He leant forward, his eyes shone silver grey. ‘I think it could be more. It should be more.’

  ‘I know the one you mean.’ Diana glanced at the wall behind him, which boasted a stain from a leaking roof. The grotto. Of course the grotto. He had seen her work and knew she had done the painting for the Bolts’ summer house. It had nothing to do with his imminent departure. She placed her reticule care fully in her lap and berated her mind for leaping to in appropriate conclusions.

  ‘How long has the grotto been there? Do you know?’

  ‘The late Sir John Biddlestone, Sir Cuthbert’s grandfather, had it put in.’ Diana breathed easier. It was a topic they could discuss and the strain would become easier. She wanted to get back to their easy friend ship, the one they had had before the kiss, before her mind became filled with him. ‘He wanted pleasure gardens to ramble in and for his wife to paint, as she was a keen water colourist. Unfortunately she died a few years later and not much more was done. I suspect it has not been cleaned out properly for years. Sir Cuthbert was not overly fond of the estate, but neither did he want to let it out.’

  ‘I intend to change that. This estate is to be my principal seat. It must have a garden worthy of an earl.’

  Diana stared at him. How was she going to go on facing him, meeting up with him when their liaison had ended? She was like an addict, craving more. ‘Why is it to be your principal seat? Surely you must have more estates down in Warwickshire.’

  ‘My father and brother did not manage their affairs correctly and neglected to ensure a settlement. All the historic Coltonby lands were sold to pay my brother’s debts.’ Brett’s face became shadowed. ‘It has fallen to me to restore the family fortune. And luckily, I proved adept at making money. I want a new beginning. The shadows of the past can be long and in harmonious.’

  ‘And you want me to paint the grotto?’ Diana bit her lip. Painting the grotto would be fun. She could already see the shells and pictures that she wanted to put on the walls. She knew she could do an excellent job. It would give her an outlet for her passion. ‘My painting is…well…floral and I think the grotto would need shells, something in keeping with the water.’

  ‘I agree.’ A sardonic smile twisted his lips. ‘Stop throwing up obstacles where there are none. Let me judge your work on its merits. Indulge me.’

  ‘I indulged you with the waltz lessons and I know where that led.’ Diana kept her voice steady. She had said the unmentionable. She had brought it out in the open, but it had needed saying. ‘We are both adults, Lord Coltonby.’

  ‘Nothing happened that you didn’t desire.’ His grey eyes seemed to pierce her soul. ‘Or do you seek to deny what happened when you were in my arms? Do you need reminding?’

  Diana tightened her grip on the letter as images danced in front of her. Her lips ached at the merest thought, the faintest look. She wiped a hand across her mouth and concentrated on the various pictures of horses and their jockeys.

  ‘What happened in the summer house is best forgotten and never spoken of again. Ever.’ Her voice sounded high and strained to her ears. She prayed he’d understand. ‘I trust you will heed my wishes on that. It is the most sensible course of action.’

  He snapped his fingers. ‘Consider it in the past as it is the most sensible course of action. Far be it from me to ever suggest that you act in a reckless manner.’

  ‘You are laughing at me now.’

  ‘Not at all. I am very serious. I do want you to see the grotto, Diana.’ His fingers reached out and took hold of her elbow, caressed her there. A warmth seared through her. She moved her arm and he let her go. She put her hand over where his fingers had been.

  She took a deep breath, plunged onwards. He had to understand what she was saying, why she could not allow such a thing to happen again. ‘What could have happened doesn’t bear thinking about. And it would have been entirely my fault, I asked you to kiss me.’

  ‘Are you quite through with being noble?’ His cold voice cut through her, chilling her to the bone.

  ‘Yes,’ she said steadily. ‘Although I consider it to be practical, rather than noble.’

  ‘Nobody will ever force me into marriage.’

  ‘Nor I. I promise you that.’ She lifted her chin and ignored the knots in her stomach.

  ‘You?’ His eyes widened at her words. ‘Whatever are you speaking of, Miss Clare? Why would you be against marriage?’

  ‘I plan never to marry.’ She kept her head up and refused to flinch despite his incredulous expression. ‘I made that vow after Algernon Finch died. Nothing has ever happened to make me change my mind.’

  ‘Was that because you buried your heart with him?’ His voice was barely a breath, so low that Diana wondered if he had even spoken.

  ‘Nothing so melodramatic. He was after my money.’ She waved a hand and tried to make her voice sound calm and reasoned. How could she begin to explain about the perfidy of the man? Of the letters she had discovered, mocking her? Of that last horrible night when he had ensured that she could never break the engagement? Of the hours she had spent scrubbing his touch from her skin? ‘I realised how close I came to losing every thing. A woman’s property is only her own if she is unmarried.’

  ‘If she is a widow, she has control of her property. You are not a widow unless the Northumbrian definition is different from the rest of England’s,’ Brett corrected after a long silence. ‘Your brother or your guardian must contro
l your estate as you have never married.’

  ‘I trust my brother. He has looked after my money well. The colliery and the other businesses thrive. He has built on the solid foundation that my father left.’

  ‘Yes, no one could ever accuse your brother of not being devoted to his business interests.’

  Diana released a breath and resisted the temptation to crumple Coltonby’s note further. Simon had sent the papers to Brett. They were much alike, her brother and this earl, possibly too much alike. Both were determined. ‘Simon does keep his word. At the moment, the colliery consumes the vast proportion of his time. He worries about it failing to keep pace with the other Grand Allies, particularly now that Mr Hedley has developed a travelling engine for Wylam Colliery.’

  ‘Mr Hedley guards his secrets well, and it is unlikely that your brother will be able to get one for the Ladywell.’

  ‘My brother can be very resourceful when the occasion demands. He searches for more investors.’

  ‘I saw an example of his resourcefulness last evening.’ Brett’s level gaze met hers. ‘Does he often do business at balls?’

  Diana regarded her hands. ‘My brother swears the age of the travelling engine will arrive sooner than people expect. He wants to convince people his ideas are right.’

  ‘If it does, I shall make a proper assessment of the risk. But enough of this talk about Loco Motion and collieries.’ He inclined his head and reached out to take the paper from her hands. ‘The grotto awaits if you feel capable of walking. I am most anxious to hear your thoughts on its possibilities.’

  ‘We could discuss it here.’ Diana met his level gaze with hers.

  ‘But the possibilities are there, out in the grounds. How can you begin to advise if you have not actually seen what needs to be done?’

  She picked at the button of her glove. ‘I will call Rose. She can accompany us.’

  ‘You hardly need a maid to go walking with you. I am sure she is quite safe in the kitchen conversing with staff. Allow her to have a good long gossip and a chance to rest her feet. I asked the cook to prepare a picnic for beside the grotto.’ His eyes became hooded. ‘I thought after walking out there, we might need a little light refreshment while we discussed my requirements.’