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Authors: Michelle Styles

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BOOK: A Question of Impropriety
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‘It is not your fault, Diana, you weren't to know.' He made a face. ‘I blame myself.'

‘Shall we now argue over who is at fault?'

‘Has he harmed you?'

She shook her head and crossed her arms about her, tried to banish the image from her mind. The old Diana would have been curled up in a ball. Her days of being timid and scared of life had truly ended. She knew she would have hit the man with a poker, if he had landed one punch on Brett. ‘You arrived in time.'

‘Thank heaven for small mercies.' He gave a crooked smile. ‘I had given up on divine intervention, but I am willing to concede, Diana Clare, that you have a guardian angel looking after you.'

‘How is the carriage?'

‘Mended. We can leave at first light, and you will be back home before noon.' He pressed his fingertips together and his brow became furrowed as if he was struggling for control. ‘I can station myself outside your door if you wish. Regardless of what people might say, it will be safer that way.'

Outside the door.
He was about to walk out of her life.

Diana stared up at the ceiling. It had to come from her. The decision she had made before no longer counted. She wanted to be with this man. She wanted to show her desire for him. She had no wish to bind him to her, merely to create memories that would sustain her when she was old and grey, to think that once her life had been a bubble of hap pi ness. ‘Please stay with me tonight.'

‘I don't think it would be wise.'

‘Why think?' she whispered. She ran her hands down her sides and licked her lips.

‘You have had a traumatic day.'

‘I know what I am doing. Stay here with me.' She took a step forwards, caressed his jaw with her hand and felt the graze of his stubble against her fingers. ‘Please?'

His fingers traced the outline of her jaw, feather light, delicate as if he was memorising it. ‘Are you sure?'

Was he going to make it difficult for her? She was no good at seduction. She wanted to show him that she needed to have him in her life, for as long as it lasted. She nodded towards the bed, at tempted a joke. ‘It has linen sheets.'

‘I had not even considered the bed, but you're right, it does.'

‘You did promise and you always keep your promises.'

‘That I do.' His eyes held a strange light.

‘What happens next?' she whispered and stared at the floor, rather than at him. ‘I am a beginner at wickedness.'

‘Let me watch you undress.' He breathed in her ear.

‘Undress?' Her hands went to her gown. She rapidly undid the buttons before she had time to think, before she had time to worry that she was doing it wrong. Tonight was about seduction, and wan ton ness. It was not about her normal world. It was as if she was trembling on the brink of a thresh old. ‘Like this?'

He stepped away from her. His eyes became inscrutable. ‘Continue.'

‘I don't follow.'

‘Let me watch you.'

She started to take off her gown, stopped, feeling her cheeks grow hot under his dark gaze. ‘It is impossible.'

‘Try.' His voice flowed from the shadows.

She did it suddenly, lifting her arms and pulling off the gown, pain fully aware that he must have watched other women, women who could make undressing a seduction. And her efforts were clumsy. Her fingers tugged at the stays, and managed only to pull the bow tighter. She gave a little exclamation and tried again.

‘You see, I am hopeless at this.'

‘Far from hopeless.' His husky rasp wrapped itself around her innards. ‘And what would you do next?'

‘Plait my hair.'

‘Sit down on that stool in front of the mirror, begin plaiting.'

‘Are we playing a game?'

‘Of sorts.' His eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘Indulge me in this fantasy. For tonight.'

She sat down and obeyed, concentrating on her hair rather than on him or the mirror. A simple little action, one which steadied her nerves. If it was fantasy, then it bore no relation to her life. Indulge him? Indulge herself, and the dreams that had woken her over the past few nights and filled her with a nameless ache. ‘Am I doing this right?'

‘Yes.' The word was no more than a hiss of air.

She glanced in the mirror and saw him standing behind her. The heat from his body warmed her back. ‘I want to touch you, Diana. Touch you and watch you watching me.'

She gave a hesitant nod.

His hands came around her, grasped her aching breasts and his lips nuzzled her neck. She watched in the mirror as his hands pressed against her and her nipples stood out, tightly furled and dark rose under the thin cloth. He rolled his fingers over them, increasing the ache. She met his eyes in the mirror, saw her own heavy with passion. Her back arched and she felt his hard body pressing against her, leaving her in no doubt of his arousal.

One of his hands reached inside her shift, found the apex of her thighs. It hovered there as his mouth moved to an earlobe, nibbling, sucking. One finger traced the length of her crease. A jolt of fire went through her.

‘Do you like what I am doing to you?' His hot breath teased her skin.

She could only nod. His fingers went deeper, caressing her as his other arm became an iron band holding her in place. She gave her body up to the exquisite torture. The ache within her grew. She twisted against the arm as she felt herself teeter on the brink. Her whole life had come down to this delicious ache. Her hands went up and caught his head, held him there. A mewling cry erupted from her throat.

‘Shall I stop?' His hand paused, his fingers skimming her curls, playing in them.

‘Continue.' She wet her lips. ‘Please continue. Does that make me utterly wicked?'

‘Only if you want to be.'

‘With you.'

He gave a very masculine laugh. His tongue traced the edge of her ear. ‘We are well suited. Think what it will be like to have my mouth there. Warm. Wet.'

His fingers slid inside her, making her buckle. Her hands pushed against the strength of his arm as a deep shudder went through her.

‘I need…' she whispered. His finger stroked more and the world tilted.

His hands shifted. He scooped her up and she was held against his chest. She clung to him, regaining a sense of balance.

‘I don't even want to think about how close I came to losing you today,' he murmured against her hair.

‘You didn't lose me.' Her hand cupped his cheeks and he turned his lips to brush it. ‘And I didn't lose you. We have tonight.'

‘I know. I am greedy, though.' He bent his head and his lips teased hers. ‘I want it all.'

He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently, arranging her limbs. ‘I do keep my word.'

She refused to think as his lips sank lower, as they followed the path he had promised. His tongue flicked into her belly button, lingering—circling and teasing. Her body arched up off the bed. He glanced up at her, nodded in approval and moved his lips lower still.

His hands cupped her legs, opening them wider. His hot breath touched her crease, then his tongue parted it, delved deeper. Her head thrashed about on the pillow and little mewling cries came from her throat.

‘Please,' she whispered and wasn't sure if she wanted him to speed up or to take his time. All she knew was that if he didn't continue, she'd die.

He took his time, swirling and teasing her until she thought she must surely shatter. Her hands clenched the linen sheets. Then he stopped and swiftly undid his breeches, divested his shirt so that his gleaming body shone bronze in the fire light. He nestled himself between her thighs and powerfully drove inside her.

Diana began to rock, to follow the age-old rhythm. She knew her body was telling him things, and his was answering, driving her to higher peaks.

‘Brett,' she whispered.

He paused and looked down at her. ‘Yes?'

‘This is every thing,' she whispered. His only response was to hold her tighter as a great shuddering engulfed them both.

 

Brett raised his body up on one elbow and looked down at her sleeping form. Gently he smoothed a tendril of hair from her cheek.

It seemed in credible that within a few short weeks, this woman had come to mean so much to him. He wondered how much her declaration was passion and how much was for real. He wanted to feel that she cared for him.

When they returned to Ladywell, he would ask her properly. He would make her understand that it was not duty that drove him to ask. It was his own fault that he had allowed his passion for her to cloud the issue. He had never meant to take her like this here.

She murmured in her sleep and her body sought his again.

‘Soon, soon,' he whispered and kissed her temple. He had not asked for tonight, but he would use it. If necessary, he would join forces with her brother; together they would make her see that tonight changed every thing. Marriage to him was her only option.

Chapter Seventeen

T
he cold early morning sunlight shone into the little room. Diana woke to find the bed next to her empty. She looked about her, confused. Then she saw Brett standing in front of the remains of the fire, fully dressed, his black Hessians gleaming and his riding cape immaculate. He was watching her. Her face coloured and she resisted the urge to dive back under the covers.

‘If I had not fallen before, I certainly have now,' she said, with a hesitant smile, hoping he would understand. It was one thing to make love in a field, and quite another to make love in an inn. She wasn't quite sure why it was different, but it felt different. She wished that she had woken in his arms. Somehow it would have been all right. But she hadn't and it changed every thing. She raised her arms above her head, stretched and tried to show she was un concerned. ‘Truly a pretty wench, rather than a lady.'

No answering smile flitted across his face. If anything, his expression became stern. ‘We need to get you home as soon as possible, Diana. I gave your brother a promise.'

‘But don't you agree about me being a pretty wench?' She peeped at him from under her lashes.

‘I was wrong to call you that when we first met.' A deep frown showed between his brows. ‘It was un for givable and I did apologise. You are no pretty wench. You have always been a lady.'

‘But…' Diana concentrated on the remains of the fire. Where had her tender lover gone? She had expected soft words, and instead he appeared cold and distant. She had thought that somehow last night had settled every thing between them, but it seemed like every thing had been destroyed. He had taken his pleasure and now wanted to leave her. Her passion had led her astray. Again.

‘You should get dressed. We have far to go today.'

‘The bed remains warm and the cock has not yet crowed.' The pit in her stomach was growing with every breath she took. She knew that she could not play a mistress. Every move she made seemed gauche and awkward.

‘I am dressed for a reason, Diana. We need to get you back to the Lodge, back to your life. Inns like these are not made for the likes of you. I made an error of judgement last evening.'

Diana bit her lip. She had said too much. It had been she who had asked him to stay with her. Even her words sought to tie him. She had been the one to seduce him. Thankfully, he had not noted the need behind her seduction. She took a breath and regained her composure. ‘Not made for the likes of me. The landlady was happy enough to take my coin last evening. And it was my coin as well. This is
my
room.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I would have paid for you.'

‘She thought you a coachman.'

‘Yes, she did, and hope fully that will keep her mouth quiet. Otherwise, her tale will be repeated in every hostelry
between Carlisle and Newcastle and up to the borders. And that is nothing to be desired.'

Diana pressed her knuckles against her mouth. ‘I gave a false name.'

‘That doesn't matter. People will guess.'

‘Then you had best go and see to the horses, if you are the coachman. I will dress as quickly as possible.' She paused and swallowed hard. She had not even considered people talking and gossiping. She had thought herself safe. ‘I will ride in the carriage. There may be some talk, but not full-blown scandal.' She paused and made sure her voice did not tremble. ‘It would be best if you leave me now. I can cope.'

‘As you wish…'

‘I do wish.'

‘Shall I send a woman up to help you dress?'

She shook her head, blinking rapidly. Correct. Polite, but distant. She could not fault him, but she would have preferred the warmth of last night. ‘I am reason ably self-sufficient. My gown is easy to put on and my hair simply dressed. Rose despairs. But it is one of the advantages of being an ape-leader—not keeping up with the latest fashions.'

‘You were never destined to be an ape-leader.' A faint smile touched his lips. ‘You are far too alive for that fate.'

‘So you say.' She gave her head a little toss and stuck her chin out defiantly. Inside, her stomach knotted and she felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. All she wanted was one word and she'd be in his arms, but she had to know that he wanted her to be there. She needed the security of knowledge. ‘I will meet you down at the carriage.'

A muscle jumped in his cheek and his lips parted, but he clamped them together.

‘I do not intend to have a sordid affair, Diana.'

‘I know how to be discreet, Brett.' She made shooing motions with her hands. ‘You were the one who said we had to leave. Now, let me get dressed.'

His boots echoed against the wooden floor. He paused at the door. ‘There may be consequences from last night.'

‘I will face the consequences when they happen.' She at tempted a bright smile, but her stomach turned over. Was it wicked of her to hope for a child? She should be shocked by the thought, but the only thing she could think about was holding a baby in her arms and being able to bestow all her love. She raised her chin. ‘Such things are by no means certain. Babies do not happen every time a man and a woman couple. I shall have to hope for the best.'

‘You are taking a remarkably forth right attitude.' His eyes had deepened to slate grey and his mouth had become a thin white line.

Diana swallowed hard. ‘It is better than weeping and wailing. I knew what I was doing last night, and what the consequences could be. I acted of my own free will with no expectation of being priest-linked.'

‘Is that what you want?'

‘I want to go back to my old safe life,' Diana lied. She could not bring herself to say the words to Brett, not until she knew how he felt. His derision or in difference would kill her. It seemed she was destined to keep repeating her mistakes. The last thing she wanted was for Brett to be cruel. ‘If it makes it any easier, I did not intend for last night to happen. Events overtook me.'

‘But it did happen, Diana, and will keep on happening. Think about that. Events will keep over taking both of us. You must make a decision—do you desire respectability or not? What is it that you want? You need to tell me, for I am at a loss.'

‘Not if we stop meeting.' Diana looked at her hands. It was far too soon for that, her heart pro tested, and her life seemed to stretch out before her. Bleaker. More correct than ever. ‘If we stop meeting, become distant friends, then the temptation will be put beyond the both of us.'

‘Is that what you want, what you truly want?'

‘It is the only way.' Diana kept her head held high. She would not beg him to repeat his offer of marriage. She would not trap him like an animal. She had her pride. ‘It is the sensible way. We have never pre tended anything more than friend ship exists between us.'

He closed the door with a decisive click. And she knew she had lost him, that she had never really had him in the first place. It had been some dream, a dream that she had now woken from.

Diana resisted the urge to throw something at the door. It was her fault for wanting it all. She refused to marry for anything but love. He had to care about her. She had to give him his freedom.

 

Brett kept his eyes on a point beyond the horses' ears. A steady rain beat down on him, chilling him to the bone and matching his mood. The journey was passing far too swiftly. Normally, driving gave him ideas, but this time his mind was a blank. Each scheme he considered seemed more preposterous than the last. And he had come no closer to solving his problem—Diana seemed implacable. She might desire his body, but she had no desire for his hand.

At the Ladywell cross roads, he had been very tempted to continue on the road to Gretna Green and force her into a marriage over the anvil. He had even started the carriage down the road when he had pulled the horses up and turned them on to the correct path.

For the first time in a long time, he knew he was not in control of the situation. He had allowed someone else to have power over him. Everything he had worked so hard to achieve counted for nothing if Diana was not by his side.

Despite his dawdling, the Lodge's chimneys appeared far too quickly. A carriage passed them on the drive, spraying water and gravel. Brett raised his hat to Lady Bolt. The woman's eyes slid away from him and the Honourable Miranda stuck her nose in the air as their coachman whipped the horses into a faster trot.

The incident had happened so quickly that Brett hoped Diana had been unaware. He concentrated on bringing the horses to a stand still and tried not to think how she would have reacted to the cut.

Brett's innards tightened. He would hold true to his resolve. He would explain to Clare that even though he was the last person he had ever envisioned as a brother-in-law, Brett was going to marry his sister. They would have to set aside their differences for her sake. It was going to be done properly. Together, they could convince Diana where her duty lay. He did not relish the prospect, but it would have to be done.

The door to the Lodge stood open and Clare with his bandaged face gleaming in sun stood, moodily surveying the scene. Brett concentrated on bringing the horses to a complete stand still, before he jumped down from his perch.

‘Coltonby!' Simon thundered before Brett had been able to open the carriage door. ‘What have you done with my sister? You have ruined her! You promised to have her back before night fall. On my life I trusted you, Coltonby.'

‘There was a carriage accident with a farm cart. We were delayed,' Brett bit out each word. ‘Sometimes, these things happen, despite one's plans.'

Diana emerged from the carriage, pale faced but resolute. Brett gave her an encouraging nod but she turned her face from him. He thought he glimpsed the glimmer of tears. He swore softly. She had seen the cut. She knew what was coming. He had wanted to spare her that. He would spend the rest of his life making amends.

‘You, one of the most noted whips in the country? Involved in an accident with a farm cart? The truth, Coltonby.'

‘Which truth is that?'

‘You seduced my sister. You seduced her and intend to let her live a life of sin. You never change, Coltonby.'

Diana's cheek turned bright pink against the white of her skin. ‘You have no cause to say that, brother. You have no proof.'

‘Your very countenance shows it, Diana. This man will be made to marry you or I will blacken his name from here to the ends of the earth.'

‘I have called men out for less,' Brett ground out.

‘Name your date and time.' Clare's eyes blazed at him.

Brett stared at him in disbelief. Clare took a step towards him, and raised his fists. ‘I will defend myself, Clare. You may count on that, but I have no wish to duel with you.'

‘Stop it! Stop it, you two!' Diana came between them, her hands out, pushing them apart. ‘I will not have it. I refuse. Simon, you are behaving like a child. Drag your mind out of the gutter.'

‘He must be made to marry you, Diana. He dishonoured you.' Simon Clare looked him up and down with a curl to his lip. ‘I know his kind. You cannot say that I didn't warn you.'

‘No one must be made to do anything.' Diana put her hands on her hips. ‘An accident happened. Lord Coltonby
swerved to miss a little girl and the carriage was damaged. He has shown me nothing but kindness and consideration. Your prejudice blinds you, brother. Brett Farnham is a gentleman and always has been.'

Brett stared at Diana. Did she intend to brazen out the disgrace? With a word, or maybe even a gesture, he could ensure it. He remained absolutely still. He refused to get her acceptance that way. He could not tell Clare what had passed between them. Just as Diana had refused his earlier offer, he would not have her marry him simply because her brother demanded. He refused to achieve his ends this way. He loved her too much. She had to love him in return. She had to want to marry him.

‘The lady has spoken,' he said slowly, almost not recognising his own voice. ‘She has done nothing to be ashamed about.'

‘Nothing except spend the night with a notorious rake in God knows what sort of hell hole! The disgraceful baggage!'

‘You overstep the mark, Clare. Has your sister ever done anything to make you ashamed? Everything she has done has been predicated on you and your business. She is a lady and should be treated as such. She should never have had to live this half-life you condemned her to—reduced to a nurse, caring for your son.'

‘I dare because she is my sister.' Simon advanced towards Brett. His hands clenched into fists. ‘This has been a long time coming. I tried to ignore the rumours and slurs. But I can't any longer.'

‘You wish to drag my name through the mud? Your own sister's?' Diana shook her head. ‘Forgive me, Simon, but I don't think you want to do that.'

‘I want you to be safe,' her brother whispered. ‘I have striven to keep you and your reputation safe.'

‘You have done what you did because it was easier than looking for another wife.' Diana held out her hands to her brother, willed him to understand. ‘But Brett is wrong. I did enjoy my life. I have no regrets about raising Robert and I love him as if he were my own.'

‘Then you will understand why, for the sake of Robert, I have to ask you to leave unless you promise me never to have anything more to do with Coltonby again.'

‘Are you asking me to choose?'

‘Do not make her do this, Clare.' Brett's voice rang out.

‘You keep out of it.'

‘Diana?' She heard Simon's voice. ‘I need to know. You have brought us to the edge of ruin. Will you give up this man? Or will you destroy Robert's chance in life as well as your own?'

‘What do you know about Robert's chances, Simon? You have never bothered to be a father, not properly.' She watched Simon blanch, but knew the truth in her words. She met his green gaze and he was the first to look away. ‘He is your son, Simon. Be his father. He has already lost one parent.'

BOOK: A Question of Impropriety
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