A Question of Impropriety (15 page)

‘Good.' She scram bled up and began to re arrange her clothes. Rapidly she covered her long limbs, and retrieved her bonnet, tying it with expert fingers. ‘No one interrupted us. No one knows. There is no need for anyone to know. We go on as before.'

Brett stared at her. He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected. Tears, maybe. Recriminations. But not this matter-of-fact attitude. He had no wish to go on as before. What had passed between them had changed every thing. She had to understand. They had no choice. They would marry. She would be his wife.

‘We shared something more than friend ship. I am not adverse to this happening again.' He gave a half-smile and willed her to understand.

‘And I agreed.' Her hands stilled on the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘I am no green girl, Brett. We are both adults. You are past thirty and I gave up any expectation of marriage long ago. What is between us lasts for as long as it lasts.'

The gods must be laughing at him. For the first time in his life, he was prepared to do the decent thing and she had refused him even before he'd said the words. He narrowed his lips and silently cursed. To say anything now would be churlish. It would sound ungracious.

‘What shall we tell the servants? The food is un touched.'

‘It is none of their business.' She walked swiftly over to the picnic. With a few deft movements, she had scattered food. ‘They will assume we had a pleasant repast. Now, shall we go? I have no wish to worry Rose.'

Brett resisted the impulse to sweep her into his arms. Patience. ‘As you wish.'

‘I do.'

‘And, Diana, next time, it will be in a bed with white linen sheets. Properly and with all the time in the world.'

Myriad emotions crossed her face. Her mouth opened and closed several times. ‘I sincerely doubt that.'

‘Diana, wait. We need to talk. To plan.'

‘To get the details of the story right? As you said, you are an expert at these sorts of picnics. You need not worry. I too know the value of silence and discretion.'

He watched her skirts swish as she walked quickly away, pain fully aware that somehow, some where, he had lost control of the situation.

W
hat had she done? What had she done? Coward. Coward. Coward.
With each turn of the wheel, the gig seemed to speak the words over and over. She had lied to Brett. Diana knew that. She did not want a hole-in-the-corner affair. She wanted something more, but, above that, she wanted him. She wanted him to look at her with favour.

Did that make her wicked and wanton?

She feared it did. But the alternative was too frightening—forcing Brett to marry her, even presuming he could be forced. She could not bear to think of his eyes looking at her with disgust.

She had tried to outrun her fate. She had made promises. She had confined her life to a set of rules, but it had not been life. Merely an existence. And she wanted to live. There was joy in being alive.

Diana laid her cheek against the cool leather and watched the changing leaves of the trees roll by.

‘Are you going to tell me about the picnic Lord Coltonby had prepared for you?' Rose asked, settling her basket more firmly in her lap. ‘Cook told me of the splendid delica
cies she had prepared. Enough to tempt the most delicate appetite. I told her that my lady has a hardy appetite.'

Diana struggled to sit up, every nerve instantly alert. She had managed to keep her secret from Rose before. ‘The picnic was wonderful. The cook excelled herself.'

‘And you still want to deny that he is courting you?'

‘He wanted advice on painting the grotto.' Diana kept her eyes on the passing landscape. The gig had reached the relative safety of the drive and she could see the tops of the chimneys. What happened back at Ladywell Park seemed remote and unconnected to the safety that her house always represented.

‘The grotto? Why would he want that tumbled-down heap of rocks painted?' Rose made a tutting noise in the back of her throat. ‘The ways of the gentry are a mystery to me.'

‘Lord Coltonby wants to restore the pleasure garden. He plans on having Ladywell Park as his principal seat. He believes it perfect for a stud farm.'

‘It sounds like a man whose thoughts have turned towards marriage and responsibility. I should wager that he has more on his mind than breeding horses.'

Diana delicately covered her mouth with her hand, deliberately hiding her expression. She did not even want to think about breeding. She had to assume that all would be well. And if there should be any consequences, then she would deal with them sensibly. She knew that coupling did not result in a child every time. She knew that from experience.

‘Or perhaps he is simply a man tired for a brief time of London's delights.'

‘And London's delights are not so great that they hold everyone. You returned to Northumberland. I remain here
with you even though I was born with the sound of the great bell of Bow ringing in my ears.'

‘No doubt the lure of London's flesh pots will re-exert their pull. He is a man, and has no family responsibilities.'

‘You are being cynical, Miss Diana.'

‘Am I?' Diana forced her lips to smile. She was not going to think about what had happened before. She wanted to believe that Brett was different from all the other rakes. Her heart whispered that he was, but she did not dare hope. ‘Sir Cuthbert could not bear to be away from London.'

‘Lord Coltonby is cut from a different cloth. I said as much to Mr Hunt earlier, I did. He should be grateful for such a good master, instead of grumbling about the extra work.'

‘Sweet Rose. You are always quick to defend your favourites, even though I am not sure what Lord Coltonby has done to deserve your regard.' Diana reached out and clutched Rose's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Rose patted her hand. ‘You were gone a long while. It stands to reason that Lord Coltonby is not simply wanting advice on where to put his bedding plants. Or painting.'

‘We enjoyed the many dishes. Lord Coltonby swears by seed cake.' Diana forced a light ness into her voice. Prevarication would become easier in time.

‘I had wondered what was keeping you. Lord Coltonby's valet kept me engaged in conversation. Every time I mentioned you, he had some little quip to tell, or told me that I had to try a little bit more of the seed cake.' Rose patted her stomach. ‘He even gave me a glass of the port, the one Lord Coltonby saves for best. Mr Hunt did glower at us, but it was ever so pleasant.'

A trembling overtook Diana. The valet had clearly known what Brett was about. So Brett had enlisted his
aid. The whole seduction had been planned down to the last detail! It was five years ago all over again.

She stared determinedly out the window, willing the carriage to arrive at the stables so she did not have to endure Rose's chatter. Then she paused and drew a deep calming breath. She refused to give way to panic. She would never again be the pathetic creature she had once turned into.

‘Are you cold, Miss Diana? Perhaps having an outdoor picnic in the autumn was not the wisest of ideas. I will draw you a hot bath when we get to the house. That will soon put you to right.'

A bath. Diana glanced quickly at Rose and then back out at the parkland. A bath. Five years ago, it had been what she had needed. Scrubbing her skin until it was raw. She had felt soiled—inside and out.

This time, it was very different. That great unyielding emptiness that had been part of her for such a long time had gone and in its place was a steady light, growing with each breath she took. For the first time since she had returned to Northumberland, the world appeared to be bathed in a radiant glow. Or was she simply looking at it with new eyes?

She reached over and gave Rose's hand a squeeze. ‘Thank you for caring, and for being you.'

Rose gave a sniff. ‘Can't see how I could be anyone else.'

‘Oh, Rose, you are long suffering.' Diana laughed, loud and long.

‘It is good to hear you laugh like that again, miss. I am fair certain that I can't remember the last time I heard that sound.'

‘It was a while ago, Rose. A very long while ago.'

 

Diana listened to the hooves of her horse pound the earth. This morning, she had woken and known she had to
ride. Fast. Furious. Away from the dreams that haunted her sleep. Away from the knowledge that Brett, having experienced her charms once, was in no rush to experience them again. It bothered her that she wanted him, that she had been woken by a nameless longing. It was not merely to touch him again, but to hear his voice and see his smile.

Her feelings went beyond mere attraction, and it frightened her, just as it exhilarated her. It was as if all her resolutions, all the tenets that she had lived by the last five years suddenly counted for nothing. The only thing she knew was that no man would ever hold her in his power again. She would be the mistress of her own fate. She would never be forced into a marriage of duty, or one-sided attraction. She was free.

She urged Merlin forwards, faster.

She had declined the use of a groom, intending to go no further than the ice house, but it had not been nearly far enough. Now, she allowed Merlin his head and they raced past the copse, the home pasture and on up to the hill towards the gap in the fence that led to Ladywell Park.

She turned Merlin's head and started up the long hill. At the top, the entire valley lay at her feet, with the Tyne snaking through like a silver rope. In the distance she could vaguely make out the buildings of the Ladywell Colliery. Familiar objects in a familiar, unchanging landscape. Diana breathed in the cool air, savouring the moment. It steadied her.

Another horse gave a soft whinny. Instantly her nerves stiffened. Was she ready for this? How would he react, seeing her again? All the pleasure in the ride vanished as if it had never been at all, leaving behind a tight feeling in her stomach.

‘I wondered when you would make it up here.' Brett came from the spinney of trees, leading his stallion. He
looped the reins about a slender branch and, leaving the horse, started towards her, catching Merlin's bridle with ease.

‘How did you know I would come here?' she asked, her breath catching in her throat. Was she that pain fully obvious?

‘I saw you earlier, riding with your hair streaming behind you.' A faint smile touched his lips, giving him a saturnine look.

‘I could have been riding anywhere. It was merely happen stance that I came up here.'

‘You de scribed this view to me. You wanted me to be here.' Brett's voice was low. ‘It is even more magical than you de scribed, watching the sunrise over the hills.'

‘I am flattered that you remembered.' Diana at tempted a haughty disdain. She could rebuild the walls around her heart. She could protect that vulnerable bit of her, and ignore the part that kept whispering about his sincerity.

‘Some things are worth remembering. Views like the one I had this morning make life worth living. They provide a balm to the soul.'

‘Does my soul need a balm?' She tilted her head and glanced up at him through her lashes.

‘You were riding as if all the demons in the world were after you.' His face sobered. ‘I promise you, Diana, you are safe with me. I am willing to be your champion. Trust me.'

‘No, not demons,' Diana said slowly. ‘I was rev el ling in the joy of being alive. It was like I had sleep-walked through my life for years and suddenly I had wakened to find this most marvellous world.'

A silence fell between them, unbroken except for Merlin's quiet chomping. She noticed that Brett's eyes had circles under them as if he had not slept. How long had
he been here? Since before sunrise? Waiting for her? She wanted to reject the notion as fancy, but somehow it seemed to grow and take root, refusing to be sup pressed.

‘You came to see the view. But did you come also to see me?' She hated the way her voice trembled. Hated her need to hear him say the words. Men like Brett scorned ties or obligations.

‘I was waiting to be asked.' His voice held an oddly humble note.

‘You may consider yourself asked, then. I want to see you,' she whispered. Some day she would have to explain about the past, but not today. She wanted to enjoy this feeling for as long as it lasted.

He took the reins from her hands and looped them around the tree so that Merlin was tethered.

Fastening his hands around her waist, Brett lifted her down from Merlin. Her body slid against his. ‘Aren't you going to kiss me good morning?'

He bent his head and Diana tasted his lips. It was gentle and lingering. Her arms rose and fastened around his neck. The kiss rapidly deepened, calling to something deep within her. With all her heart, she wanted to be the girl she had been five years ago. She wanted yesterday to have been her first time. But it wasn't. And she had no idea how he'd react to the truth.

His lips trailed down the column of her throat, placing soft kisses that tantalised her. The embers within her body flared into life and she realised the fire she had thought doused had merely slumbered. Her body arched forward, seeking more contact with his. She at tempted to hang on to sanity. The truth lay between them. If she never told him, it would hang there, making every thing ugly. She prayed that the disgust would not be too terrible, but she had to say the words.

‘Brett, what are you doing?'

‘Your skin tastes like the morning dew,' he murmured, cupping her face between his hands. Delicately his tongue traced her lips. Lingered. ‘No, I was wrong—sunshine mixed with dew.'

‘You spout easy words.'

He moved his lips to her temple. ‘What do you want? Shall I stop and go away?'

Go away? Her body pro tested at the thought. She looked up into his eyes, saw the deep grey pools. ‘What are you asking me?'

‘I can feel a change in you, and it scares me…'

His breathing was ragged and he placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up into his eyes. In another instant, he would put her away from him and would return to his horse. It was the last thing she wanted, and she was horrified at her reaction. Shaken to the core. And then, not horrified.

‘Diana?'

Her answer was to pull his face back towards hers, her hands digging into his hair, holding him there. ‘Kiss me, Brett. Kiss me like you did before.'

He groaned and lowered his mouth. Their tongues teased each other, tangling, touching and retreating only to tangle again. The fire within her flamed into carnal desire. Dark. Dangerous. All the more potent because she knew what would happen, out here with no one about. Knew and wanted it. Her body arched towards his again.

He lifted his head and stared down at her for a long time. This time, his hands pushed her from him, created a wall of air between them.

‘Enough.'

‘Enough?' she said, and something within her died. She ducked her head. Her lips tingled from the onslaught. She
touched a hand to her lips and tried to ignore her aching swollen breasts. ‘Enough? How can that be enough?'

‘If we continue, I will have your skirts over your head and your back against the oak tree. And that won't do either of us any good.'

‘It is a thought. Certainly.' She glanced over her shoulder at the tree. A curl of heat infused her. She knew he intended to make her pause, but pausing meant she would have to confess, would have to ruin this fragile new thing between them. She lifted her arms, held them out to him.

‘You are a witch, you know that?'

‘No, not a witch. A woman. A woman who has slumbered and now has come alive.'

‘Very much alive.' He caught her about her waist and pulled her to him, moulding her body to his. Despite the heaviness of her riding habit, his hard arousal pressed against her thighs, making her wriggle. ‘But you deserve more than that. You deserve better.'

She glanced at the oak. ‘Would it be so bad, so terribly wicked?'

He gave a low husky laugh that sent ripples along her nerves. ‘No, and some day, I promise you, we shall do that. Me filling you, with the rose-gold sunrise erupting all around us. My body worshipping yours.'