‘Oh, damn it,’ Mariah said aloud. ‘Winston, why did you have to leave me?’ She was so alone and at times felt desperate. Must she live like this for the rest of her life, relying on friends for company, never having someone special of her own?
She turned away from the edge of the cliff and began to walk blindly through the woods, holding back her tears. She was angry with life and with herself for not having more sense and saw nothing until she heard an exclamation of alarm and then a pair of strong hands reached out and grabbed her arm.
‘Forgive me,’ an English voice said. ‘If you continue to walk in that direction, you may fall over the edge. There is a steep trail just beyond those trees and at one place there has been a recent fall of rock. It ought to be fenced off to save the unwary from accident.’
‘Oh…thank you,’ Mariah said and looked into the face of a man she could only describe as handsome in a dark, rather forbidding way. ‘Forgive me. I almost walked into you. My mind was wandering.’
‘I am glad to have been of service,’ he said and inclined his head to her. ‘My name is Peter Grainger—Lieutenant Grainger—and I have recently arrived in the district. My aunt and uncle have rented a villa at the other side of the lake and I was out on a walk when I discovered the fall. Are you staying near by, ma’am? Forgive me, I do not know your name.’
‘Mariah Fanshawe,’ she replied, a faint blush in her cheeks as she saw how intently he was staring at her. ‘I am staying with Lord and Lady Hubert—we are farther down the hill, nearer the lake. I walked up here to enjoy the view, but I am a little out of my way. Your warning was timely, sir.’
The man tipped his hat to her. ‘It was nothing really. So, do you stay long, Miss Fanshawe?’
‘I am Lady Fanshawe and a widow,’ Mariah replied. Something in his manner made her slightly uncomfortable, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about him that aroused her suspicions. ‘We have not yet decided how long we shall stay.’
‘Forgive me, I did not realise.’ His eyes went over her, seeming to note that she was wearing a gown of white muslin trimmed with pink, her shoes white leather and her gloves white cotton, edged at the wrists with the same pink that trimmed her gown and was repeated in her stole. Regrettably she wore no hat, having ignored Sylvia’s advice to put one on before she left. ‘Perhaps we shall meet again, Lady Fanshawe.’ He tipped his hat and turned away.
Mariah stared after him for a moment, biting her lip. She was so foolish. He had been perfectly respectable and she had offended him by her brusque tone. He could not have known she was entitled to the use of a title. Besides, she did not normally remind people of it. What was the matter with her? Did she think of herself as so worthless that every man must be a fortune hunter if they showed an interest?
Turning in the direction of the Huberts’ villa, she walked quickly, blinking away the stupid tears. Was it too much to want to be loved for herself? What must a man do to convince her that he was uninterested in her late husband’s fortune?
She had become suspicious of everyone and that was wrong. Wrong and foolish! Mariah must learn to trust again. If she wished to find happiness in marriage, she must give gentlemen the chance to win her trust rather than treating them all with the same level of suspicion.
If only Andrew Lanchester had shown some interest in her. Mariah was almost sure she was in love with him. He was the kind of strong, silent man that appealed to her nature—the kind of man who might succeed in keeping her interest above a few weeks. With a little encouragement she could have given him her heart, her person and her fortune—but after seeming to approve of her, he had withdrawn again and she did not know why. He was a friend, but it seemed he had no warmer feelings for her.
Shaking her head, she walked quickly towards the villa. There was no point on dwelling on the past. She had come to the conclusion that she needed a husband. If it was not to be Andrew Lanchester, then it must be someone else.
Next time she met an attractive man she would smile and keep an open mind. If she continued to refuse all offers, she would end a lonely old maid.
* * *
‘Lanchester…’ Andrew heard himself hailed as he left the inn at which he had chosen to stay for a few days while visiting the lakes. He stopped and frowned as he sought for recognition, then smiled at the younger man. ‘What do you here, sir?’
‘I am visiting a friend,’ Andrew replied. ‘I had some business in Naples, which came to naught, and took a detour to visit a place of outstanding beauty. Are you here alone?’
‘No, with my aunt and uncle. I heard you had resigned your commission. I hope there is nothing amiss?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Andrew frowned, then recollected his manners. Lieutenant Grainger was not his enemy. They had been friends of a sort, though the younger man was his junior. ‘Yes, I decided that the time had come to settle down and look after my estate. I heard you might be up for promotion?’
‘It was on the cards, but I may also be leaving the service soon. My uncle suffered a severe illness some months ago and needs to spend more time in the sun. My aunt asked me to help them get settled out here—and, as they have no other heir, her husband wishes me to take up residence at their estate in England and assume the running of the place.’
‘Shall you oblige them?’
‘Yes, I think so. Where are you staying?’
‘Here at the inn.’
‘That won’t do, Lanchester. We have plenty of room at the villa. I know I speak for my aunt when I say we should be happy for you to join us. Come and have dinner with us this evening. If you should care for it, you could stay with us for a few days. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind your advice about a few things…’
‘I am unable to dine this evening,’ Andrew said. ‘But if I can be of any help I shall be delighted to give whatever advice or practical assistance I may.’
‘I am glad I ran into you, Lanchester. My aunt will be delighted to meet you. She is feeling a little lost, anxious about finding the right place. They have rented a villa, but may also need something in Milan. My understanding of the language is not as good as I would like.’
‘Then I may be able to help,’ Andrew said. ‘I shall come back with you now and we may talk…’
Andrew was thoughtful as he matched his steps with the lieutenant’s. His meeting with Mariah that morning had been less promising than he’d hoped. It had been in his mind to tell her about his problem, because he was aware that at one time she might have been justified in believing he was considering making her an offer. If he told her that he could not think of marriage until he had cleared his name of this shadow of doubt, she might understand why he had let her down.
Mariah was beautiful, intelligent and wealthy. How could he expect that a woman like that would be prepared to sit around twiddling her thumbs while he floundered about trying to discover an enemy—an enemy who might or might not be Lieutenant William Gordon? The answer was that of course he could not expect it. Mariah had made it clear that she wanted to marry soon.
Even if he were free of the stain on his character, was she the woman he wanted above all others? At times he was so certain that his inability to speak almost choked him with frustration, but at others…at others he was not quite as sure. Mariah needed a husband—but would any man do? She’d married once for money and her husband had spoiled her. Would she expect to be indulged and given her own way again? Was that quite what Andrew wanted from a wife?
Dismissing his confused thoughts, Andrew turned his attention to his companion. Peter Grainger was a fellow officer. It was just possible that he might know where William Gordon was to be found, though he must be careful how he put it. Until he was certain who was behind this business, he must make no accusations.
Chapter Two
‘That rose silk becomes you so well, dearest,’ Sylvia said as they prepared to go down and welcome their guests that evening. ‘I am so glad that you have decided to wear colours again.’
�
�As you have told me many times, Winston would not wish me to mourn him for ever,’ Mariah said and smiled at her. Sylvia was a pretty, diminutive lady with a charming smile and good manners, and sincere in her affections. ‘I have decided to put the past behind me, Sylvia. I shall cease to look at every gentleman I meet with suspicion and enjoy being courted. I do not wish to live alone for the rest of my life and I cannot always be in the company of friends. It is my intention to marry soon.’
‘As to that, you know you are welcome to live with us, Mariah.’
‘You are so generous. Andrew told me that Lucinda has said much the same. She wants me to consider returning to Avonlea when I’ve had enough of Italy—though how anyone could ever be tired of such a glorious place I do not know.’
‘I do so agree with you,’ Sylvia said, looking fondly at her. ‘If Hubert had no estates to worry him I should prevail on him to stay for another six months at the very least. However, two months more is as long as he can spare and so we shall have to leave in a few weeks so that the journey home is achieved in easy stages.’
‘Yes, I know. Besides, there are pleasures to be had at home,’ Mariah said. ‘Winston has a beautiful country house. I have no desire to live there and shall probably let it to tenants, but they must of course be the right tenants. I think I would prefer to live in London with visits to Bath, Avonlea—and, of course, Italy, whenever I can prevail on someone to bear me company.’
‘I would not turn down the chance another year. We could always travel with friends if Hubert could not find the time to accompany us,’ Sylvia said. ‘But you may be married by then, dearest. Your husband will wish to travel with you no doubt.’
‘Perhaps…’ Mariah looked wistful. ‘Andrew kindly offered to vet my suitors for me. I think I shall accept his help. I have made up my mind that I would be more comfortable married to a decent man. I wanted to fall in love—but perhaps I should settle for a comfortable arrangement.’
‘Would you not regret it?’ Sylvia raised her brows. ‘Surely you are young enough to hope for a little romance in your marriage this time?’
‘I think Winston was the most romantic man I’ve ever met,’ Mariah said and laughed as she saw her friend’s surprise. ‘No, truly he was. Everyone saw the age difference between us and believed the worst—but he was so gallant and so loving to me. He kissed my hand every morning. Every night I found either a rose or a flower of some kind on my pillow. Even when he was ill he had the gardener bring in a perfect bloom to place in my room for him.’
Sylvia blinked hard. ‘You bring tears to my eyes, my love. Of course I knew that Winston adored you but I did not realise that he was such a sweet man. It is little wonder that you hesitate to marry for a second time. I do not think it will be easy to find a man like Winston again.’
‘No, I think I shall not,’ Mariah agreed. ‘But perhaps I should seek someone rather different this time. I was utterly spoiled in my first marriage, but I am older and wiser now. It is time for me to grow up, to move on.’
‘I do not think you could do better than Lord Lanchester himself,’ Sylvia said. ‘He is handsome, respected and has no need of your fortune—besides, I think he likes you, my love.’
‘Yes, I think he likes me,’ Mariah agreed and sighed. She might never find such devotion as she had from Winston again, but she was so tired of being a widow. ‘However, Lord Lanchester shows no sign of making me an offer. I did think at one time—but he did not speak and I think I lost my chance. Something must have made him decide that I was not the wife he wanted, though he is still concerned for my safety and well-being.’
‘Perhaps the right moment has not yet presented itself,’ Sylvia suggested. ‘Be patient, Mariah. He may speak when he is ready.’
‘I fear patience is not my best virtue.’ Mariah laughed at herself, for she knew her own faults. ‘Once I make up my mind to something, I must act—and I have decided that I need a husband, or the promise of one, before we return to England.’
‘Think carefully, my love,’ her friend advised. ‘If you marry in haste, you may regret it.’
‘I have been a widow for nearly two years,’ Mariah said. ‘I have thought of contenting myself with affairs, but I think it would suit me better to be married.’
Seeing she had shocked her friend, Mariah laughed again and took her arm.
‘No, really, dearest, it would not be so very terrible, would it?’
‘Well…if one were discreet.’ Sylvia shook her head. ‘You have been married…I know you are teasing me—but Hubert would be most shocked if he heard you. You might lose all chance of a decent marriage, my dear.’
‘Yes, I dare say,’ Mariah said, slightly impatient, for she thought her friend’s husband a little pompous at times. ‘But I am so tired of sleeping alone.…I want to be courted for myself, loved.’
What would Sylvia think if she knew that her marriage had remained unconsummated? That she was, in fact, still a virgin? It was something she could never tell anyone, even her best friends.
* * *
A little later that evening Mariah stood by the open windows of the salon looking out at the night. The sky was velvet dark with only a faint light from the moon, which was half-hidden by clouds, but the air was much cooler after the heat of the day. She was tempted to walk in the gardens, but if she did, someone was sure to follow—and she could not be sure the right man would join her.
‘Mariah, my dear, I want you to meet some friends of Hubert’s,’ Sylvia said, causing her to turn round and look at the newcomers. With a little shock she recognised the man who had saved her from a fall earlier that day. ‘This is Sir Harold Jenkins, Lady Jenkins—and their nephew, Lieutenant Grainger.’
‘What a surprise to see you again, Lieutenant,’ Mariah said, extending her hand with a smile. ‘Good evening, Sir Harold, Lady Jenkins, I am pleased to meet you.’
‘Good evening, Lady Fanshawe,’ Lieutenant Grainger replied and kissed her hand, looking into her eyes with such warmth a moment later that Mariah was surprised. ‘I am so pleased to meet you again.’
‘You met earlier? You did not tell us,’ Lady Jenkins said archly, throwing her nephew a fond look.
‘I met Lady Fanshawe walking towards the spot where a rock fall had taken place and was able to warn her that it was dangerous to go farther in that direction. I have since spoken to the authorities and they assured me a fence would be put in place immediately.’
‘Ah, that is just like you, Peter,’ Lady Jenkins said and looked directly at Mariah. ‘My nephew is such a correct young man, Lady Fanshawe. Many would simply ignore something of that nature—but Peter always thinks of others.’
‘You are too partial, Aunt.’ Peter Grainger looked slightly embarrassed. ‘You must forgive her, Lady Fanshawe. I assure you that I did only what anyone would have done in the circumstances.’
‘I am sure that many would not,’ Mariah said. ‘Tell me, sir—how do you like Lake Como? Do you prefer it to Lake Garda?’
‘I think all the lakes have their merits—but I believe the situation of Como makes it most agreeable to those who prefer a little more tranquillity. There are more visitors—or it seems there are more at Garda.’
‘Yes, that was my feeling also,’ Mariah said, warming to him. He seemed a sensible man. She had no doubt that his aunt was aware of her fortune, but Lieutenant Grainger did not seem overly anxious to impress her. Indeed, he had taken himself off at once after she’d revealed her status to him earlier that day and she was inclined to think he was in no particular need of her fortune. ‘I think we have time for a turn in the garden before dinner, sir. Would you care to oblige me?’
He looked a little startled, as if her boldness had surprised him, but immediately offered his arm. ‘A little air on the terrace would be perfect. I believe Count Paolo’s gardens are reputed to be very fine?’
‘Yes, indeed they are. We are fortunate that he allows us to stay here.’
* * *
Andrew watch
ed with narrowed eyes as the pair disappeared out through the open doors onto the terrace. They stood talking in full view of the room so there was nothing particularly clandestine or intimate about their behaviour, but he found the sight oddly disturbing. Mariah had promised to take his advice in the matter of a husband; he did not think that Grainger was wholly suitable, but, as yet, he had not managed to think of anyone he could recommend to her wholeheartedly.
Watching her, he was aware of how lovely she was, the perfection of her figure and the enchanting way she held her head to one side when she teased or laughed at one. She was, he thought, a beautiful, sensual woman and his pulses quickened at the sight of her looking up at her companion. Something must be done. She was too vulnerable to unscrupulous rogues, though he had no real reason to think of Grainger as a rogue.
‘Are you well acquainted with Lieutenant Grainger?’ his host asked. ‘Lady Fanshawe seems on good terms with him. She looks happier than she has for a while.’
‘I was not aware that she knew him,’ Andrew said. ‘I had not seen him for years, though I remember that his regiment joined ours in Spain. He was a new recruit then…’ He turned to look at Lord Hubert. ‘Do you know him at all?’
‘We have met once or twice. I am not well acquainted with him.’
‘I am in similar case myself, though we had mutual friends in Spain.’
‘I know his aunt and uncle,’ Lord Hubert continued. ‘Very good sort of people. Sylvia likes them—and I usually like my wife’s friends. I dare say we shall see quite a bit of them while we are here. If Grainger and Mariah were to take to one another, it would be the very thing.’
The Scandalous Lord Lanchester Page 2
