A Question of Impropriety (7 page)

‘Not if I run it along the old wagon-way. I worked it all out in my mind. It can be done. The old staith can be reopened. And I will have no over-privileged aristocrat telling me how to run my business.'

‘Simon!' Diana said through gritted teeth. ‘You are behaving in a high-handed fashion. You will antagonise him. I remember the quarrels you had with Sir Cuthbert.'

‘But he had learnt the errors of his way. Common sense prevailed.'

‘Only because he needed money.' Diana drew a breath.
She would have to explain about her encounter earlier and what she had seen. ‘Lord Coltonby is different. He isn't intent on drinking the port cellar dry and gambling away his inheritance.'

‘What on earth are you talking about Diana? I knew Coltonby at university. Gaming and drinking are the man's life. He was a seven-bottle man. And I could not count the number of card tables he graced, how many brawls he was involved in.'

‘University was a long time ago. It strikes me that he is someone who you would want to have as an ally, not as an enemy.'

‘He was the over-privileged son of an earl. He threw his weight around. Humiliated me. And I refuse to bow to his wishes and desires. He is not getting one inch of my ground until he has sweated blood for it.'

Diana stared at the large black machine. She had never realised how deeply Simon's experiences at university had affected him. But she had also heard the passion in Lord Coltonby's voice when he spoke of his estate and his desire to do something with it. There was more to the man, if only Simon would see it.

‘Simon, you need to grow up and think beyond what happened to you all those years ago.'

Brother and sister glared at each other. Finally, Simon looked away. He loosened his stock. ‘Once I get The Duke to run properly, I will see whether I need that strip of land. If not, I will sell it to him for the going rate, not some paltry sum. I only offered it as a sop to Biddlestone when he said he might invest in the engine. Does that satisfy you?'

‘It will have to.' Her stays seemed to pinch more tightly than before and a pain developed behind the back of Diana's eyes. Simon had decided to set himself on a collision course with Lord Coltonby and that did not bode well for anyone.
She concentrated on the engine. ‘But why are you calling it The Duke? After the Duke of Northumberland? One of the royal Dukes? Are you hoping for investment?'

‘No, because it is noisy and belches quite frequently.' Simon gave a brilliant smile. ‘The steam pressure needs to be high. Nearly to the breaking point of the boiler.'

Diana watched her brother with a sinking heart. Stubborn and unwilling to listen to reason. There were times when she wanted to shake him. He thought he could ride rough shod over everyone and every thing in his path. He did not mind the enemies he made as long as the business prospered. Some day, he would realise that there was more to life than proving his business acumen. ‘Simon, there are those who doubt that anyone can make a reliable travelling engine.'

‘I will do it. When have I ever failed with machines?' He caught both her hands. Simon gave a lightning quick smile, transforming his features and making him more like the boy she remembered from child hood, rather than the embittered man she'd discovered when she returned from London. ‘Trust me to do the right thing. It will work, Diana. I know it will. Have faith in me.'

‘I do have faith, Simon. How could you ask that of me?' A shiver went down Diana's back. ‘I hope you are right. I don't think Lord Coltonby is a good man to cross.'

‘Neither am I, Diana, neither am I.'

Diana offered up a silent prayer that it would not come that. She glanced one last time at The Duke, sitting there black and brooding. How much was bravado on Simon's part?

‘I
s it true what Miranda Bolt says?' Charlotte Ortner asked Diana, leaning over her tea cup, her face alight with excitement.

‘What does Miss Bolt say now?' Diana regarded the candlesticks on the Ortners' mantelpiece. Her weekly round of visiting had proved more tedious than she'd thought possible. Everywhere she went hummed with whispers of Lord Coltonby and his arrival in the neighbourhood, endless questions and speculations. One would be forgiven for thinking nothing else had happened recently in Ladywell or the Tyne Valley. She had only a few minutes left before she could make her excuses and leave. She always stayed precisely a quarter of an hour—no more, no less. ‘What new entertainment for the ball has she devised?'

‘Miranda says that Lord Coltonby singled her out for special attention and it is merely a question of time. She said you were a witness and saw his preferential treatment at close quarters.'

‘Charlotte!' her mother called. ‘Modulation!'

Charlotte lowered her tone and glanced over her shoulder,
but, seeing her mother was actively greeting new arrivals, she continued in a low voice, ‘I thought I could ask you as you weren't in the running, so to speak. Mama will be livid if Lady Bolt beats her in this marriage stake. And you are the only person who knows the truth. Does he have a penchant for Miranda Bolt?'

‘I am really not able to indulge in idle speculation or gossip.' Diana folded her hands on her lap. Trust Miranda Bolt to twist the encounter. There had to be some way of rectifying the situation without calling attention to her own part.

‘But Miranda said you were there and would confirm every thing.' Charlotte's eyes danced and her mouth quirked upwards. ‘Mama's eye is very firmly fixed on Lord Coltonby at the moment. Miranda is planning a strata gem for the ball, and so naturally I wanted to know. Does Miranda tell a tale that is too good to be true?'

Diana shifted on her seat. She needed to stop Miranda Bolt. If she continued in this fashion, the result would be heart ache—or worse. Everyone appeared to have little understanding of a London rake's methods. Lord Coltonby would only be caught when he chose to be and not before. ‘I have no reason to believe any wedding bells will be ringing for Lord Coltonby in the near future.'

‘Wait until I tell Mama.' Charlotte placed her tea cup down with a bang. ‘Miss Clare has made one of her pronouncements: Lord Coltonby is destined to remain a bachelor.'

‘Please, don't say anything… My acquaintance with Lord Coltonby dates from London. I know what he is like.' Diana's cheeks burnt with a sudden heat. Why did people insist on reading too much into things? She had merely wanted to protect Miranda and ensure her reputation was kept safe, not begin an
on dit
of her own. Her hands went
to straighten her cap, but instead encountered her hair. Hurriedly Diana placed them in her lap and made her face assume a beatific expression.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed. ‘Why, Miss Clare, I do believe you have abandoned your cap. I cannot see it peeking out from your bonnet.'

‘It…it did not suit the dress.' Diana stood up, hoping against hope that her meaning would not be twisted. The rent in the cap had been too great to be quickly repaired and she had hoped no one would remark on it as her status as an ape-leader was widely known. And how could she begin to explain the cir cum stances in which it had been ruined?

‘But Lord Coltonby remembered the acquaintance and he sought you out, practically the day he arrived in the neighbourhood.'

‘There are reasons for it.' Diana shifted from one foot to the other. She wanted to avoid mentioning the encounter in the lane. It would only add fuel to the fire. ‘Simple reasons. Reasons that have nothing to do with Lord Coltonby.'

Charlotte leant forward. Her eyes gleamed. ‘He is the most excitingly attractive man to come into the neighbourhood for ages. Not only titled, single and pleasing to the eye, but with sufficient income to support a wife. Is it any wonder you are tempted?'

‘I have no plans to marry. Ever.' Diana pasted a smile on her face. ‘I have no wish to join the circling hordes. Your mama's matrimonial plans are safe.'

‘Oh, is that how it is?' Charlotte gave a coy little smile. ‘You are full of secrets, Miss Clare. I shall have to tell Miranda that she has a rival. You are planning on going to the ball, aren't you?'

‘I believe, Miss Ortner, that my time here is at an end. It would be impolite to stay longer.'

However, Diana noticed with a sinking heart that Charlotte had already turned from their conversation and was whispering in excited tones to one of her newly arrived friends.

 

‘And will that be all, Miss Clare?' The shop keeper stood with his quill poised.

‘I believe it will be sufficient.' Diana gave her head a shake. She should have behaved more rationally at the Ortners. The sensible thing would have been to nod and exclaim about the audacity of Miss Bolt. She should never have tried to put the story right. Miranda didn't need Diana's protection.

It was most disconcerting. Normally, she had more control. She did not add to the gossip. But today it seemed to her that everyone was staring and whispering behind their hands. She had made a fool of herself. Their gazes remained friendly, but she knew how quickly such looks narrowed in disapproval…

‘Miss Clare?' the shop keeper said again, bringing her back to the present. Her cheeks burnt slightly. ‘I need to know how much of the green velvet you want. Sufficient is a very expansive word.'

‘Two lengths will be more than enough.'

‘Very well, Miss Clare.' The shop keeper retrieved his scissors and began cutting the material.

Diana breathed more easily, and studiously ignored the slight jangle of the bell behind her. She refused to turn around and see who had entered the shop. Refused to see if it was him. Life would return to normal now. This instant. She was a mature sensible woman, not given to flights of fancy. She behaved with decorum at all times. She had learnt the value of restraint.

‘Here you go, Miss Clare.' The shop keeper held out her packages.

She gathered up her brown-paper parcels and narrowly missed colliding with Lord Coltonby. His face appeared as black as thunder. His large hands reached out and steadied her, closing around her forearms. A tide of heat washed through her body and her fingers grew lax on the parcels. She forced them to curl back around them, and her body began to regain its composure. She stepped away from Lord Coltonby and nearly tumbled over a bucket. His fingers came very firmly under her elbow.

‘You appear flustered, Miss Clare,' he said as he led her out of the shop. His eyes twinkled down at her. ‘Something I have done, I hope?'

‘No, not flustered, Lord Coltonby, merely in a hurry.' Diana reached up one hand to straighten her bonnet. She longed to ask him why he had gone into the haberdashery. It was not the sort of place she assumed he would frequent. French modistes maybe, if he was out fit ting a mistress, but a simple haberdashery, never. ‘It is one of the worst of my faults. I spent far too long at the Greys'. And the Ortners'.'

‘One can be so busy noticing one's faults that one forgets to notice one's virtues, Miss Clare.'

She tilted her head to one side and prepared to sweep out of the shop with dignity. ‘You turn a phrase very charmingly.'

‘Sometimes, the truth is charming.'

‘I prefer my truth to be unvarnished, without adornment. It is an irritating habit, I am told, but it has held me in good stead these past five years.'

‘Or merely pre vented you from living?' His eyes slowly assessed her. ‘I see you have abandoned your cap. It makes you look years younger. I must congratulate you. Now,
perhaps, you will consider wearing a more becoming colour.'

‘My life is quite full enough, Lord Coltonby, and I have not yet had the time to repair my cap. I have no need to be made into an enthusiasm, a project to amuse your days. A pleasant attempt, but I know how quickly enthusiasms fade.'

‘You truly do not believe in the veracity of that statement.'

‘It is what keeps the
ton
fashionable and exclusive. You have to know which is the right tailor, or the correct box at the theatre, which authors to read and which are beyond mentioning. The dances and figures change constantly.'

He blocked her way. ‘I ask to be judged on my own merit, Miss Clare, not some poor unfortunate's. It is a small request.'

Diana's cheeks grew hot. It pained her that he was correct. She had been judging him based on someone else. ‘There are books waiting for me at the library. I received a note this morning.'

‘Minerva Press? Another novel by the author of
Pride and Prejudice?
What excites your fancy today, Miss Clare?'

‘Improving tomes on agriculture and crop rotation,' Diana replied in a crushing tone.

‘Why do you feel the need to avoid novels? To keep from driving off the road?' He arched a brow. ‘I would have thought putting them in a basket behind you would have sufficed.'

‘You are an aggravating man.'

‘I do but try.' He inclined his head. ‘You pique my interest, Miss Clare. Will you truly take out an improving tome?'

She started towards the library and he fitted his steps
with hers. Rather than create more of a scene, Diana ignored him. The librarian gave a nod as Diana headed for the stacks. Randomly she picked up a manual on agriculture and the need for efficient crop rotation. ‘You see—an improving tome.'

‘I never doubted it, and that one is particularly dry.'

‘You have read it?' She stared at him. ‘Crop rotation?'

‘I do my research. It makes for an easier life.' He took the book from her and placed it back in the stacks, standing so close she could see the precise folds of his neck cloth.

She nodded to several library patrons who stopped to acknowledge her. She had thought that Lord Coltonby would make his excuses and depart, but he continued to stand at her elbow, surveying the variety of books. A silent sentinel. ‘Are you going to the Bolts' ball? Or do such things frighten you?'

The unexpectedness of the question made her blink and nearly drop the book of sermons. ‘I think it is best if I choose my books now. We are beginning to be remarked upon.'

‘Clearly something you wish to avoid—which is why you made remarks while visiting this morning.'

‘How did you know?' Diana closed her eyes and the full horror washed over her. How people—and Lord Coltonby—must be laughing at her and her pretensions. ‘I had forgotten how quickly rumours can pass from lip to lip. Can I assure you, Lord Coltonby, that I merely wanted to protect an innocent. You are not and never have been the marrying kind. Women who wish to marry should be wary of you.'

‘But you have no wish to marry. Does this mean you are not wary of me?' His eyes gleamed. ‘What an interesting proposition, Miss Clare.'

‘That is not what I meant, and you know it,' Diana said
in a furious under tone. ‘Certain things have been taken out of context. I merely sought to put a stop to gossip. I do prefer the truth.'

‘The truth has many guises, Miss Clare.'

‘It was wrong of me.' Diana swallowed hard. ‘But I simply had to say something. Otherwise certain women might have given your words and actions a different connotation. I have no wish to see any young girl ruined for the sake of a few pie-crust promises.'

She kept her head high and hoped he would understand.

‘You appear to have already made your decision, Miss Clare.' He moved a step closer to her, reaching behind her to pluck a volume from the shelf, his hand skimming her bonnet. ‘I am only trying to understand our positions, and to make sure that the rules of engagement are precise.'

‘You make it seem like a battle.'

‘Oh, it bears some similarities.' His eyes became hooded. ‘Certain campaigns must be planned strategically and all eventualities considered.'

‘I know your reputation, Lord Coltonby. Your many seductions. I am simply trying to avoid having in no cents seduced.' She gave a little laugh and moved away from him.

‘You do me a great honour, but I assure you I am human. My exploits have been exaggerated. I have never dallied with an unwilling lady.'

She stared at him in astonishment. She found that she wanted to believe him, that his exploits were not as bad as they had been painted. She wanted to trust her instincts, but they had failed her so miserably before. She could not risk it.

‘This is hardly the sort of the conversation one has in a library.'

‘I am always open to suggestions, Miss Clare.' His voice was as smooth as silk, reasonable, as if it were she who had proposed something outrageous. The cheek of the man!

‘Lord Coltonby, you are being outrageous. Deliberately!'

‘No, I am enjoying our conversation and wish to prolong it.' He lifted his eyebrow. ‘Would you please explain your objections to this? We are near neighbours.'

Diana tapped a finger against a book of sermons on the shelf. ‘And when I do, will you leave me alone?'

‘If I consider them valid, of course. I am a reasonable man.'

Diana gestured about her as the rational objections seemed to have completely drained from her mind and the only thing she could think about was the way his long fingers held the books he had chosen. ‘For one we are in a library.'

‘That can be remedied, presuming you have discovered all the improving books on agriculture that you need. Reading should be a pleasurable experience, Miss Clare. Why do you close yourself off to such things? If you cannot enjoy your reading, why read?'

‘The sort of easy words I'd expect from a member of the Jehu club.' Diana shook her head slightly; it seemed to be growing lighter with every breath she took. The only thing that appeared to be keeping her on the ground was the book of sermons currently pressed against her chest.