A Question of Impropriety (16 page)

‘But not today?' Diana bit her lip and tried to banish the pagan image his words had conjured. ‘Is the sun too high in the sky?'

‘I intend to make this right.' He turned his face away from the oak. ‘I promised you a soft bed with linen sheets.'

Diana wrapped her arms about her waist. She knew she was not ready for a small house in some anonymous market town, giving up Robert and Simon. ‘I thought we would be discreet.'

‘What is indiscreet about a bed?' A smile tugged at his lips.

‘That would be far too risky. People might discover us. There would be consequences. Not only for me or you, but for my family.' She forced the words from her throat. ‘Servants talk, no matter what. Such things do not remain secrets for long.'

His fingers went under her chin and lifted it up. His eyes searched hers. Then he let her go. ‘You don't trust me.'

‘I know what happens. It is always the woman who falls.' She gave a little shrug. There were all sorts of trust. ‘I desire you, but fear the scandal.'

‘And if there was no scandal, what then?' He ran a hand down her back. ‘The bed I am thinking of will have no one whispering or with drawing their skirts.'

Her breath stopped in her throat. She could almost believe that he was speaking of marriage. Her insides trembled and then she rejected the notion firmly. It was beyond the realms of possibility. She gave a small laugh. ‘You mean the shepherd's hut in the spinney. I suppose it does have a pallet. I should have guessed.'

His lips thinned and his eyes grew hard. ‘I mean the marriage bed, Diana. What happened yesterday may have consequences and I am no cad. It is my duty.'

She went ice cold. The marriage bed. He didn't want to marry, he hadn't professed undying love. Duty. He had made the offer because he felt an obligation. She had to tell him the truth. She steeled herself and searched for the right words.

‘We agreed that marriage was not for either one of us,' she said in a small voice.

‘Ideas can change.' He reached out and inter laced her fingers with his. ‘What would be wrong with a marriage
between us? We suit. I must marry at some point to produce an heir and why not you?'

Diana broke away. She crossed her arms about her waist. She had hated the thought of marriage to him when it would have been only duty on his part. Duty provided little comfort in the night. She could not bear it if she had to watch his desire turn to disgust once he saw the awful ugliness that resided deep within her. ‘Let's speak no more of marriage in jest.'

His face grew dark. ‘I am serious.'

‘As was I, when I said that I would not marry.' With each syllable, her voice grew stronger and steadier. She was saying the right things, choosing the correct path. ‘You did not coerce me into what passed between us. I knew what I was doing. I had no expectations of an offer. You may rest easy.'

‘After what happened, it is my duty. You are a gently bred woman. Cosseted. Cared for. Protected.' Brett stood very straight and pronounced each word with care, as if they had been rehearsed and only emerged with great pain.

Diana winced. The gates of her mind broke open and memories of the other time flooded over her. The pawing hands. The heavy unwelcome breathing in her ear and the pain. All happening while her chaperon had sat, eating and drinking but a few hundred yards from her and the fire works had burst overhead. She had cried out, but the explosion had swallowed her cries. She forced the gate of her mind closed. Breathed.

She wrapped her arms about her waist, shaking, unable to face the scorn he must have for her. Unable to show the ugliness that she knew must be in her face. ‘I was not an innocent virgin.'

‘Diana.' His voice was thick, almost unrecognisable.
‘You are still an innocent. You possess little knowledge about what passes between a man and a woman. I can tell the difference.' He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Confide in me. Help me to understand.'

‘It happened at Vauxhall Gardens,' she whispered. ‘One time. I wanted to see the fire works. I loved fire works in those days. My chaperon stayed behind. She hadn't finished her supper. He had always been so polite, so correct. He had kissed me once on my cheek. I never thought. We had only gone a short way down a darkened path and a rocket went up, lighting the whole sky. I turned to see it. He kissed me, forced his tongue between my lips, called me a tease. His breath stank of drink. I broke free, but he caught me again with rougher hands. Told me I was a flirt.'

Her throat closed and a deep shudder went through her. She waited to see his disgust, but he squeezed her shoulder, warm steady fingers that somehow cut through the chill. She swallowed hard, regained her composure and then continued.

‘His hands were hard. Roaming all over my body. Touching me where no one had ever touched me before. I begged and pleaded, but he seemed to like my fright. It made him more… He threw me to the ground and pinned me there with my skirts over my head. All the while, the rockets were going off. I could hear people's excited shouts and gasps. I yelled, but nobody came. It hurt such a lot.'

She put her hands to her face.

‘What were you wearing that night? Your ivory dress?' His voice was cold, deadly. His hands clenched at his sides. ‘Was it the night before you became engaged? Is that why your brother agreed to the marriage?'

She shook her head, unable to understand why he had asked. ‘I wore my white dress with a lavender net. I cut it up into small bits and fed them to the fire when I returned
home. All except one piece, which became the lining of my first cap. Why do you ask?'

He released a breath. ‘I worried I might have been there. I could not have borne it to think that this happened to you and I could have stopped him. Did he do anything else, anything at all?'

‘He said that I had led him on. That I was wicked and wanton and deserved every thing that happened to me. That a true lady would never have behaved like that, and he could tell the difference. And he had only done that because I had wanted to. He said that he had changed his mind about marrying me and was going to end it that night. But we would have to marry because of how I had acted and what we had done and he'd take great pleasure in spending my money. And my brother would pay dearly for it.' She gave a little shrug and tried to control the shaking of her body. ‘Two days later he was dead. I prayed he would die and he did. It makes me very wicked, Brett.'

‘It makes you human.'

She turned her face away. She was not going to mention the blood, or how Mrs Tanner had simply raised her glass and asked if she had enjoyed the fire works when they had returned to the pavilion. How he had smirked. The hours she had spent scrubbing her skin, until it was raw and bleeding. The promises she made to God if only somehow she'd be released from her living hell. Then she had been. And she had tried to live her life as she had promised. Had worn the cap until it was rags to remind her. Only it had not been living, only surviving.

She screwed her eyes shut, refused to let the words tumble forth. Pity was the last thing she wanted. But it was vital that he understand that there was no need for his sacrifice.

‘It is good the man is dead or I'd murder him with my
bare hands for putting you through that. As it is, I wish Bagshott had not killed him so cleanly and instead that he suffered more.'

‘They said that he didn't suffer. He looked peaceful. I wanted him to experience all the torments of hell.'

‘Have you told anyone else your story? Your brother? Your maid? Who knows?'

‘It was Rose's night off and she was visiting her family. I had the under-maid draw me a bath. And I have never told anyone. I have been too ashamed. And no one ever guessed.' A bitter laugh escaped her lips. ‘They thought it was because he had died that I mourned him. How could I mourn a monster like that?'

‘You should never have had to endure that alone.' He put his fingers under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. ‘He was wrong. He forced himself on you to ensure you would marry him. He was deep in debt.'

‘But I—'

‘You did nothing. Someone should have protected you and I will regret to my dying day that I wasn't there to answer your pleas. That nobody came.'

Hot tears ran down her face. ‘You weren't to blame.'

‘Neither were you, Diana Clare. Neither were you.'

‘But I—'

‘The offer stands. It is an honourable offer, Diana. However you were mistreated has no bearing on your future. You are a lady. It is my duty.'

Honourable. Duty. With no words of love. She had no wish for that sort of marriage, even with Brett.

‘You feel it your obligation to make an offer. I have refused. That is an end to it.' She forced her voice to become bright. ‘Come, we shall say no more of it. You will thank me eventually.'

His cool eyes assessed her. Raked her up and down. ‘That is your final word on the subject.'

‘It is. I refuse to marry for some sense of misplaced duty. I refuse ever to marry.'

‘Why are you standing here next to me?' His lips took on a cynical twist. ‘What is it that you want?'

Diana took a long deep breath. Her whole body trembled. She knew she had to do it. She would change the subject and take control again. ‘You.'

He swore loud and long, the words echoing across the valley. Words that made her want to curl up into a little ball and die.

‘I thought you would have been pleased.' Diana forced the words out. ‘A woman who is not looking for marriage. Who is only looking for the pleasure of the moment.'

‘How little you know me.' Brett stared at her in disbelief as he struggled to control his temper. He wanted to reach out and shake her. She had to understand what he was offering. He loathed Finch with a passion, but he hated himself for having seduced her, for not having guessed. ‘I make the offer for your own good.'

‘I have no desire for that sort of marriage. I had a narrow escape from the sort of wedlock you are suggesting. I saw my brother's un hap pi ness at a loveless marriage. Why is it wrong for me to want a bit of pleasure? Why can't a woman behave like that and a man can?'

Brett was torn between kissing her into submission and shaking her until she saw reason. He took the safe option and did neither, running his hands through his hair. ‘Will you listen to reason, Diana? Society will demand it or it will cast you out into oblivion if what passed between us the other day is discovered.'

‘Society has no idea about what passed between us.
And you are no cad, Brett Farnham. You will not drag a woman's name through the mud.'

He forced his lips to smile, but his insides twisted. He hated that he had been prepared to use her to get a piece of land. Some day, he would find a way of convincing her she was wrong. He might not love her, but he liked her. He desired her. And surely that was a better way to build a marriage than on some romantic folly. ‘Then what do you suggest? I have no intention of giving you up.'

‘At the start of our friend ship, you made it abundantly clear marriage was an un desirable state.' Her chin tilted upwards and her defiant eyes blazed at him, challenging him to deny it. Brett winced, remembering his arrogant words. ‘Some day you will thank me for saving you from this folly.'

Thank him? Brett stared at her blankly. She was refusing to marry him. Not refusing his bed, or to lie with him, but refusing to make it legal. The one woman he had ever offered for had just refused him.

He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. The ring in his pocket weighed heavy. He had been certain—all he'd had to do was to offer. What woman would refuse an earl?

For a breath, he was tempted to walk away, but that would accomplish nothing. He wanted her. She wanted him. She would want to marry him. He would push her and she'd surrender. He would bind her to him. He would make her his. He would have no hesitation in using any means necessary.

‘What more could I have asked for?' he said smoothly. ‘You are a rare woman, Diana Clare.'

‘Then you agree to my terms.' Her eyes showed a shimmer of uncertainty. ‘No marriage and absolute discretion.'

‘But of course.' Brett smiled inwardly. They were not finished yet. He would get his way in the end. ‘You have agreed to be my mistress, and without pre conditions.' He allowed his hand to travel down her arm. ‘Some might call you foolish. I would prefer to use other words—generous, giving.'

‘I have agreed to no such thing!'

‘What other term should I use?' He drew her body to him, felt it mould against him. Soften. ‘You know what it is like to be with me.'

He started to lower his mouth, his body already anticipating the sweet surrender to come. But she became rigid and her eyes were fixed on an object beyond his shoulder. Her hands, which an instant before had acquiesced to the onslaught, now fought against him. He allowed her to go. He stared at her, puzzled.

‘There is someone there. Someone watching.'

D
iana stepped away from Brett and tried to draw a breath but her stays constricted her. She pointed with a trembling finger. ‘Someone is there. He moves in the shadows.'

Brett turned, stared for a moment, before turning back to her, hands reaching out. ‘Your eyes are playing tricks. Who would be out here?'

Diana evaded his grasp. He had to see. He had to understand the potential for disaster. ‘There was movement.'

‘Most likely a weasel or stoat moving in the undergrowth. Think no more on it. If you wish to embark upon a life of sin, Diana, you cannot be perturbed at the slightest wood pigeon's wing clap.'

‘No, it was bigger than that.' She shielded her eyes and her body stilled. A small figure moved along the trees, steadily but with great stealth.

‘A child is there.' Brett held out his arm, blocking her way. ‘Let me go and see. I will deal with the intruder.'

‘I know that face!' She pushed against his arm, refusing to be held prisoner. ‘I know it! Let me go!'

Diana picked up her skirts and ran towards the copse
at the bottom of the hill. Behind her, the air echoed with Brett's oaths. ‘Make up your mind, Diana!'

‘Robert!' She reached the bedraggled creature within a breath and had gathered him to her. She kissed him, then held her nephew from her. ‘Why, in the name of heaven, are you here? You should be at school.'

‘Get off, Aunt Diana.' Robert scram bled away from her embrace and stood facing her. His breeches looked as if he had rolled around in a pigsty and he sported a great rent in his new jacket, the one she and Rose had sewed for hours to get it ready in time for school. A single tear trickled down his cheek. ‘I am not a baby anymore. I am nine.'

Diana stared at her nephew, not sure whether she should throttle him or get down on her knees and thank him for being there. With Robert's unexpected appearance, the temptation was gone. It seemed as if in one fatal swoop of his mouth, Brett had broken all her walls. She would have agreed to be his mistress. Her fall would have been complete.

But she had this one last opportunity to change her destiny.

She pushed away all thoughts of Brett and what might have been, grabbing Robert by the arm. She looked at him again. Made certain that he was not some sort of fevered dream.

‘Robert Clare, what are you doing here?' she said, kneeling down beside him. ‘Why have you left school?'

Robert stood up and stuck his hands into his pockets. ‘They punished me for things I didn't do. I had nothing to do with the stink bomb.'

‘Doctor Allen sent a note. He believes you did. You should take your punishment.'

‘He believes wrongly. It wasn't me. It was some
other boy.' His hands balled into fists. ‘They all said it was me.'

‘Truly?' Diana crossed her arms. ‘And who made a stink bomb in the kitchen this summer? Three times, Robert!'

‘That was different. I was experimenting. Once I knew how it worked, it did not matter any more.'

‘And if it was not from you, how did the boys get the information? You know what your father will say. You will never have the horse you long for.'

Robert gave a shrug and ran his toe in the dirt, but a single tear gleamed in his eye. Diana's heart squeezed. She wanted to scoop him up and hug him to her, but he had to learn his lesson. He could not simply leave school whenever he wanted. He could not give up.

‘Is there some problem, Diana?' Brett came to stand at her shoulder. ‘Who is this ragamuffin? One of the colliery children?'

‘My nephew.' Diana glanced over her shoulder, up at Brett's questioning face. ‘He has run away from school.'

‘And I ain't going back…ever.' Robert's voice rose an octave and she could see his muscles begin to bunch. ‘I came this way to say goodbye to Rose and Titch. They are the only ones who care about me.'

‘Titch?' Brett asked quietly.

‘Our terrier.'

Brett nodded and motioned for her to continue. Diana knelt down beside Robert.

‘But, Robert, you love school. All this summer you spoke about how you longed to be back.' Diana reached out to hug him to her again.

‘I hate school. Stupid school. Don't need it to ride horses.'

‘Never underestimate education,' Brett commented in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Without it, you are ignorant.'

‘I don't need an education to work.'

‘Your father wants more for you then digging ditches or shovelling coal,' Brett said. ‘Fathers are like that.'

‘I am going to race horses.'

‘You need to study. There is much you have to learn,' Brett said. ‘There is more to life than racing horses.'

‘I won't! I won't!' Robert screwed up his face and stamped his foot.

‘Robert!' Diana said, thoroughly shocked. ‘Please forgive my nephew. He is normally much better behaved than this. Apologise immediately to Lord Coltonby, Robert.'

Robert hung his head and mumbled an apology. Diana breathed more easily.

‘What is the true difficulty, Robert?'

‘Greek and Latin are only about dead people.'

The corner of Brett's mouth quirked upwards and Diana fought against the temptation to laugh. Robert was right, but that wasn't the point.

‘The Romans were great engineers,' Brett remarked. ‘They built bridges and aqueducts that remain standing today. They raced horses and built chariots.'

‘I wouldn't know about that.' Robert hung his head.

‘Your father sent you to school to learn,' Brett said quietly. ‘You should go back.'

‘Who…who are you?' Robert backed up against the wall.

‘Lord Coltonby—he owns the Park now and he is a friend,' Diana said and prayed that Robert would listen to reason. He was too large for her to pick up and carry back. She had no idea how she was going to get him and Merlin back to the house. Then there was Simon to be faced.

‘Lord Coltonby?' Robert's face jerked up. ‘Your horses won the Derby and several other plates.'

‘You know about the turf?'

‘A few of the other boys do and so I joined in.'

‘Yes, it was my horse that won. By two lengths.'

‘Wait until I tell Rupert and Henry that I met Lord Coltonby and—'

‘I thought you had finished with school,' Diana said quietly. ‘How can you tell them? And why should they believe you?'

‘That's true.' Robert stuck his hands in his pockets and made a circle in the dirt with the toe of his boot. ‘I am done with it.'

‘Robert, how did you get here?' Brett's voice was low, as if he was coaxing a wild animal.

‘Got a lift from a drover. Thought he was nice and kind, like, but he weren't. He beat his horses.'

Diana glanced at Brett. Robert's story did not ring true. ‘Robert, who suggested this?'

He drew another line in the dirt. ‘Henry,' he whispered. ‘Henry was going to come with me, only he didn't appear and the drover grabbed me. Said I owed him money.'

‘And then what happened?' Brett asked.

‘He threatened to beat me because I didn't have any money. I waited, and waited. Then I saw the Lion and Dove pub and knew I was close to home, so I escaped.'

Diana stifled a cry, and reached for Robert again. Brett motioned for her to be quiet.

‘That was very resourceful of you.'

Robert tilted his head to one side. ‘Was it?'

‘You had a lucky escape and you know it,' Brett said. ‘You are a bright boy, aren't you? You know what can happen to children who disappear.'

Robert shook his head—gone was the bravado. ‘I do.'

‘People will be worried about you.'

‘I wanted…I wanted to come home,' Robert whispered.
‘I missed it. I wanted to see Papa. He would put things right. A boy's father should put things right.'

‘He should do, but some times fathers forget.' Brett's face was remote and his eyes faraway. He was speaking of another father. Diana's heart turned over for the little boy that he must have been once. Had he too run away from his school? What dangers had he faced and how had they made him into the man he was today?

‘I think Papa is going to be very angry with me.' Robert scrubbed his eyes. ‘I should go back to school now, before he discovers what I have done. He will be disappointed in me.'

‘No, you face your father,' Brett said. ‘You have come this far. You have a responsibility. You were the one to run away. You and you alone must face the consequences.'

‘And if he sends me back?'

‘I will take you in my carriage with my horses.'

Diana stared at Brett. The offer was so unexpected. Why should he do something for her nephew? Instinctively she knew that he was not making the offer to curry favour with her, but to help Robert make the right choice. He had a way with boys. She had seen that before with Jimmy Satterwaite.

Robert turned to Brett and held out his hand. ‘I will consider your offer, sir. But first I must see my father. You are right. I do have responsibilities.'

‘He is a good boy, Brett,' she whispered. ‘He has had a bad fright. He does not mean to be rude.'

‘I can see that. I was a boy like him once and my scrapes were far worse. Luckily his father is there to forgive him. Mine wasn't. His experience has probably taught him a more severe lesson than any punishment could have.' Brett took Robert's hand. ‘The pact is made. My horses are at
your disposal, should you require it, young Master Clare. You need only send word.'

‘And how will we get you home, young man?' Diana regarded Robert, who hung his head.

‘I hadn't considered it.' Then his back stiffened and his fists balled at his sides. When he looked like that, Diana could see the resemblance to Simon—the same pig-headed determination. ‘I can run along side.'

‘You can ride in front of me,' Diana offered.

Robert gave a half-shrug.

‘I suspect he would prefer to ride on Falcon,' Brett said.

‘Can I?' Robert's face shone. ‘I will be able to tell Henry and Rupert that I rode one of Lord Coltonby's horses. How many plates and cups have you won?'

‘Me or my horses?'

‘It amounts to the same thing.'

‘There is a difference which you will understand when you get older. But for the record I have won two plates and seven cups, while my horses' number in the hundreds. It is the ones I won through my own efforts that I am most proud of.'

Diana's throat closed. She hoped one day Robert would understand what Brett was saying.

The boy's eyes grew round. ‘But can I ride with you?'

‘If your aunt agrees. She is the lady in charge.'

Diana nodded as her throat closed tight. Brett had known the exact words to say. She had thought to protect herself, but she wondered if it was too late. When the time came for them to part, she knew her heart would be in danger of shattering.

 

Diana pulled hard on Merlin's reins, forcing the horse to a slow walk. She had given in to Robert's request and
she and Brett had raced slightly. But now, she obeyed the rules of the stable and walked the horses back.

Her heart sank as she rounded the corner towards the mounting block. Simon's carriage stood ready in the stable yard. She had half-hoped that he would have left for the colliery before they arrived back. It would have given her a chance to clean Robert up and find out more about his version of events. To prepare a story that would pass for the truth, but give the events in the best possible light.

Behind her, Robert's whoop of delight re sounded as Brett made his stallion rear. And at that very instant she saw her brother walk out. He drew his eyebrows together as he jammed his top hat on.

‘What is going on here?'

‘Isn't it obvious, Simon? I have returned from my morning ride.' Diana kept her voice steady but her stomach clenched. With a few ill-chosen words, Simon could undo every thing.

‘Why is my son here?' Simon pointed with an accusatory finger. ‘Why have you brought him here? Why isn't he at school where he belongs?'

Diana took her time dismounting from Merlin. With Simon in this sort of mood, she had to remain calm.

‘I was out for my morning ride and encountered Brett and Robert. It seemed sensible to return here with them. Would you have preferred me to send your son elsewhere?'

‘What is Coltonby doing with my son?' Simon thundered, grabbing her arm. ‘Why is he riding with him? Why isn't he in Newcastle? At school where he belongs and where I pay good money for him to be.'

‘Be civil,' Diana said in a furious under tone and jerked her elbow away. ‘Robert ran away from school. I discov
ered him out by the look-out point. I thought for a moment he might continue to run.'

‘Robert ran away from school?' The colour drained from Simon's face. ‘Why would he have cause to do that? Dr Allen's has an excellent reputation.'

‘And he has had a bad time of it.'

‘But why? What is the boy playing at? And where is Dr Allen? I pay him to look after Robert's safety, not to have the boy gallivanting all over the country side.'

‘You will have to ask your son.' Diana nodded to where Robert sat with Brett. ‘Go on, call him. Talk to him.'

‘Robert Clare!'

Robert slid down from Brett's horse and ran to Simon. ‘Papa,' he said with a trembling voice. He stopped and started again. This time, his voice was stronger. ‘Father, I have returned home. I was wrong, but I have come back.' He glanced up at Brett. ‘Did I say it right?'

Simon did not say anything. He looked solemnly at Robert's bedraggled face. Diana willed him to hug his son, to acknowledge that he was pleased to see him. Anything. Simon placed a hand on Robert's shoulder for a brief instant. ‘I will deal with you later, Robert Clare. No doubt your headmaster will be in touch.'