A Question of Impropriety (20 page)

‘But you might not be here.'

‘I am planning on putting roots down in Northumberland.' He gave a significant look at Diana. ‘It seems like a good place to raise children.'

‘The fresh air is very good for them.'

‘So I understand.'

‘I wish you and your bride-to-be every hap pi ness.' She
kept her back straight and refused to think about what Brett's children might be like. She hated the thought of having to meet them and whoever his wife might be. But it would be far worse if she had accepted his half-hearted proposal. Then she would have had to suffer his growing in difference and to become little more than a wearisome burden inflicted upon him by his devotion to some misguided duty.

‘Aren't you putting the cart before the horse? I have to marry first.'

‘It is usually best.' She forced a laugh from her throat. ‘No doubt next season's crop of débutantes will yield an appropriate countess.'

His eyes narrowed. ‘We had best depart if you want to return before night fall.'

‘I definitely intend on returning before night fall. You gave your word.'

‘Unforeseen cir cum stances…'

‘Unforeseen cir cum stances had best not happen. I trust you to do every thing in your power to prevent them.'

‘Then you will allow Robert to ride up with me.'

‘Do I have much choice?'

‘No.' Brett lifted an eyebrow, but Diana kept her face composed. She refused to give in. She had put passion behind her. What had happened out by the grotto would not happen again. Today would be a test and she would succeed. ‘You are always a pleasure to cross swords with, Diana. No one could accuse you of being boring.'

‘I do my best.' Diana climbed into the carriage and sat down on the well-sprung seats as she ignored the sound of Brett's hearty laugh.

 

The trip to Newcastle sped by. Every so often she would hear Robert's excited voice and Brett's deeper, more
gravelled one answering him. Never condescending or hurried, but firm and authoritative. She had to admit that Brett did know how to control the ribbons. He also appeared to have discovered the secret of controlling Robert.

When they arrived at the red brick school, she expected tears or at the very least protestations, but no sooner had the carriage stopped, than Robert climbed down and opened the door for her.

‘I have promised to do my best, Aunt Diana,' he said. ‘I won't let you down.'

‘And remember, my promise,' Brett said, coming to stand by him. ‘Be attentive to your lessons, and no more bad reports, then I will instruct you on the finer points of carriage driving.'

Diana looked from Brett to Robert. All through the journey, she had dreaded something like this. What could she say to him? She knew that it was a pie-crust promise. Brett would develop a new enthusiasm and Robert would face yet another disappointment. She kept her chin raised. There would be time enough to explain to Robert later.

‘I do mean it, Diana,' Brett said softly. ‘How else can I prove to you that I keep my word?'

The timely appearance of Dr Allen and the school's matron pre vented Diana from answering.

‘Will your horses be all right for the journey back?' Diana asked Brett after Robert had been settled back in school. ‘How long do they need to rest?'

‘They should be fine. I did not push them too hard to get here. Your nephew was enjoying the feeling of being a whip. You should have seen him holding the ribbons. The boy is a natural. He asked ever so many good questions. He made me think.'

‘I saw his face. You have another worshipper, Brett.' Diana pressed her hands together. Simon might not be
pleased when he discovered it, but it had certainly made the journey much less fraught. ‘I wanted to thank you for what you did. You did not have to.'

‘You mean arriving here with a great flourish and the horses going at full gallop?' Brett laughed. ‘I can still remember what school boys love. I only wish I had thought to bring a mail coach's trumpet.'

‘Why did you do it?'

‘Because everyone needs someone to make a fuss of them.'

‘He has me.'

His gaze travelled slowly down her form. ‘You are not a man.'

Diana was grateful for her bonnet. ‘I would have had a bad time of it without you and your antics. I thank you for that.'

‘I am pleased you see some small use for me.'

‘Yes, a small use,' she agreed with a laugh. ‘I suppose we ought to go. It wouldn't do for Robert to think we were spying on him.' She covered her hand with her mouth. ‘I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day. I had no right to question you like that.'

‘Did I say anything?'

‘You must understand—I refuse to be used in that fashion.' Her stomach trembled but she had said it.

‘Intentions are different from actions, Diana. And my intentions changed, once I began to know you. You must believe that I have every intention of protecting you and your reputation.'

‘I will believe that when it happens.'

‘Allow me to prove it to you. Will you then admit it? Or are you too proud?'

‘Why must we always argue?' Diana whispered. ‘I much prefer it when we get along.'

Brett didn't answer. He simply stared down at her with his steady grey eyes, eyes that had nearly turned to silver.

‘You are the most provoking of men.'

‘I think I enjoy being provoking.'

‘Well, I am not entirely sure that I enjoy it.' Diana opened the carriage door. She would end this conversation now, before that little piece of her insisted on continuing their relationship, before she begged for his kiss, before she began believing his promises.

‘Which way shall we go back?' Brett asked.

Her hand trembled on the door frame. ‘Do I have a choice?'

‘We can go back a longer, more scenic route if you wish.' Brett's hand closed over hers. ‘I promise to refrain from provoking you, well…not unless you
want
to be provoked.'

A tingle washed up her arm. The scenic route. A room in an anonymous inn. Brett and her. Together. It would be so easy. For a long time, she found it difficult to breathe. ‘You promised to return to Ladywell by night fall.'

‘It could still happen.'

Diana gently withdrew her hand, and put the temptation far from her. She refused to do that. She had not sunk so far down into wanton wick ed ness that she used the return of her nephew to school as an excuse for a liaison with her lover.

The whole idea when she considered it held an unsavoury ring.

She had not sunk that low. She retained her principles. The madness that had enveloped her over the past few days would end. She held on to the thought and let it crowd out all her desires.

‘I would like to return home as quickly as possible.' Her
words tripped over each other in her rush to get them out. ‘You may spare the horses, but Simon will want to hear about how Robert got on at school. He does care about his son.'

Aware that she was beginning to babble, Diana clamped her lips shut. She willed him to say something. To show that he under stood. These feelings inside her were at war with each other. She desired him, but she needed more than desire. She needed more than a half-hearted proposal. She had seen the relief on his face when she had refused him.

Brett regarded her with clear grey gaze. He continued to stand close, too close. She watched the way the sunlight caught his buttons and turned them darker. ‘A closed stuffy carriage or up beside the driver in the fresh air—where do you want to ride?'

Diana swallowed hard, turned her attention from the way his buttons looked against the crisp linen of his shirt. She knew if she rode within the carriage, she would not have a chance to speak with Brett. And she had missed him and his teasing tones more than she had thought possible. It would be the end of every thing. Irrevocably.

She would end it after today. He would depart for somewhere unknown and, if they ever met again, they would be able to make polite meaning less conversation.

But would it do any lasting harm if she allowed herself to dream for one more afternoon? Within a few hours, they would be back in Ladywell and her life would continue on its preordained path.

‘Up in the open air,' she whispered, her voice barely audible to her ears. She blinked, scarcely able to believe she had said the words aloud.

‘Diana?' He leant forward and his breath kissed her lips. ‘You were impossible to hear.'

‘I will ride up beside you,' she said quickly before she
changed her mind. A queer fizzing excitement went through her veins. ‘I want to see how you handle the ribbons of a Four in Hand. I may be able to learn something in case I should ever encounter an obstacle course again.'

He gave a half-smile. ‘Ever the sensible Miss Clare.'

‘Is it sensible to ride up next to the driver?' She peeked up from under her eye lashes. ‘It is the first time I have heard that.'

‘Oh, very sensible. Quite the best option. You get a whole new view of life when you sit beside the driver.'

‘I thought you promised not to provoke me.'

‘I said that I would do my best. That is a different promise entirely.'

‘Is it? Are you going to twist your words?'

‘Can I help it if a certain woman persists in for get ting the exact nature of the words?' His face became a picture of injured innocence.

‘And if that woman considered him to be a supreme twister of words?'

‘Then she'd be wrong…as she has been wrong about so many things.'

‘About so many things?' she whispered and tried to ignore the racing of her heart.

‘We need to go if you wish to return to Ladywell before night fall.'

He helped her up to the perch and then clambered up beside her. Diana had to squeeze over to one side. Brett's leg pressed against hers and all her resolutions appeared to fade away like the mist in front of the sun. He leant forward and his knuckles grazed her breast as he reached for the reins. She drew in her breath sharply.

He said nothing, but gave her an eloquent look before concentrating on arranging the ribbons. Diana bit her lip and decided a dignified silence was her best option.

The coach began to roll away from the school and back into the Newcastle traffic.

The view from up top was entirely different from the view through the carriage window. Tops of carriages, second-floor windows where clerks worked busily at their desks, bonnets covered in flowers and silk intermingled with top hats and flat caps.

She half-turned in her perch. Robert's school was rapidly swallowed up in the traffic of the city. Carts and carriages crowded the streets, suddenly moving forwards and closing spaces where a breath before the road had been clear. Twice Diana was certain they would hit a delivery van or a cart. She sucked in her breath and shrank as the carriage passed through an impossibly narrow gap. Brett put an arm about her shoulders, but she rapidly sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap.

‘Impressive driving.' She tried for a calm and measured tone, ignoring his slightly triumphant look. ‘There are very few who could make it through that.'

‘It is easy once you know the trick. As I explained to Robert, carriage driving is like life. You need to keep your attention focused. And your concentration far enough ahead. It is all about anticipating obstacles. And there are always pot-holes to trip up the unwary or in attentive.'

‘I worry that I might get in your way. Perhaps you ought to stop and I will go below.'

‘As long as you don't make a sudden lunge for the ribbons, we will be fine.'

He gave a little flick and the horses in creased their speed as they left the smoke-shrouded city behind. It seemed as if they were in their own world, up here on the coachman's perch. Diana shivered slightly as the chill of the wind hit her, and wished she had thought to bring her thick shawl as well as her crimson pelisse. That had to be the cause.
It was never a shiver of anticipation, a reaction to her leg nestled against his, her shoulder touching his.

‘Are you cold?'

‘I will be fine. I thought I would be riding in the carriage and did not bring a shawl.'

‘You can go down there, if you want. I will stop the horses.'

‘No, I like the view from up here.'

He put his arm around her and drew her into the circle of his arms. ‘Is this better?'

She relaxed against his body and rested her cheek on his chest, listening to his heart thump. Warm, comforting and altogether far too enticing. She closed her eyes and sought to hang on to every detail. When this was all over, she would keep the image fresh.

‘What are you doing?' he asked when she opened her eyes. ‘You have the most intent expression on your face.'

‘Making a memory.' She struggled to sit upright. ‘I will be fine now. The air is quite pleasant in the sunshine.'

‘I am honoured that you want to remember this moment.'

Their gaze caught and held for a long moment. Diana felt the in exorable pull towards him, towards the slippery slope called—falling in love. She also knew the ending and the heart ache that came with it. She started to say something, but finally opted for a light tone. ‘How many times do I get to see an expert in action?'

‘How many times indeed?' He flicked the reins and the horses started moving faster, their hooves beating against the stones.

Diana watched as his hands expertly con trolled everything. She knew in the hands of a less-experienced driver, the horses would be running away, out of control, but with Brett, they obeyed the least flicker of the ribbons.

As they approached a village, he pulled the thundering horses back. Immediately they slowed.

A cart loomed ahead, blocking half of the road. A labourer was busy loading barrels. Nothing unto wards. Diana sucked in her breath as she saw a bright blue pinafore dart out into the road.