A Question of Impropriety. Michelle StylesЧитать онлайн книгу.
And yet, Miss Clare, the innocent fiancée, who had had no party in the action was here, alone, apparently living a retired life. ‘A sorry business that day. Totally unnecessary. Both men were insensible to reason. They paid a high price.’
‘You do remember.’ Her blue-green eyes widened slightly.
‘It took me until the early hours of this morning to recall the precise identity of the fiancée,’ Brett explained smoothly. ‘It was a nag at the back of my mind that prevented me from sleeping. I then felt compelled to apologise for my behaviour. It was unforgivably rude of me to question your source of information. Although I would contend that Songbird was not the most reliable of men when alive. And people change over the years. You should not judge me on his tittle-tattle.’
‘I am surprised that you troubled yourself with the recollection.’ Miss Clare gave a bright smile, but her hand played with the ribbons of her hideous cap. ‘It was most impertinent of me to bring the connection up. I was out of sorts from my difficulty with the gig. Please accept my apology for referring to the matter.’
Brett stared at her. Today all the life seemed to have gone out of her. The vibrant woman of yesterday had vanished and in her place was this shadow. How long had she been like that? And which was the true Miss Clare? He knew which one he preferred.
‘It is I who must apologise,’ he said at last. ‘That particular duel has long played on my mind. It should never have happened and I most sincerely regret that it did. Hopefully, it does not impinge upon your present circumstances. And although I once presented them in a letter, again let me offer my sincere condolences on your most grievous loss.’
‘Five years is a long time. I have quite recovered from the shock of it all, Lord Coltonby. You do not need to allude to the matter in oblique terms. I know my fiancé fought the duel over a courtesan. I had friends in London who took great pleasure in explaining it all. And I see no point in pretending that the duel did not take place.’
‘I regret your choice of confidants, then. It was supposed to be a private matter.’ Brett cleared his throat. It was all too easy to imagine. And even though this woman was innocent of any connection with the duel, people would have drawn their skirts back and whispered behind their hands. ‘Those concerned with Songbird’s death did everything in their power to keep the affair hushed. You must believe that. I know I never breathed a word.’
‘A death such as Algernon’s was never going to be private, Lord Coltonby.’ Diana kept her head erect, but her insides trembled. She had never spoken of the hours that had preceded Algernon’s death and she did not intend to start now, particularly not to a man such as Lord Coltonby. ‘Whatever was said about me years ago is long forgotten. The wags and the wits found fresh victims to flay.’
‘I can only recall pleasant things. You were quite right in thinking that we had been introduced before. I particularly remember Vauxhall Gardens. You commented on the brilliance of the fireworks.’
‘I did?’ Diana’s feet felt rooted to the ground. Ice crept down her spine. Had he been there as well? That fateful night before the duel? How close had he been? Had he heard her cries and mistaken them for pleasure? And what would he say if he knew the full truth behind that night? She pressed her fingers to her temple. She would have to hope that he meant some other night. ‘I have no recollection…’
Brett’s eyes became a soft grey as he shook his head. ‘Songbird was a scandal waiting to happen. He would never have done for a husband.’
‘I didn’t ask for anyone’s pity.’ Diana pressed her hands together. Privately she agreed with Lord Coltonby. But she could not make any excuses for Mrs Tanner, employed to keep fortune hunters away from her. The chaperon had failed miserably. ‘My only excuse was that I was naïve and unused to the ways of the world. No doubt most young women saw him for what he was. I only regret that my chaperon did not.’
Lord Coltonby’s mouth turned down at the corners. ‘What a pity your friends did not speak up. His situation was no dark secret.’
‘The ton is not so forgiving when one is only clinging to the edge.’ She kept her head high and refused to allow the old feelings to swamp her. Calm. Tranquil. Her rules had protected her ever since that night at Vauxhall. She forced her mind to clear and then continued. ‘I much prefer the peace of Northumberland. Society here may be an altogether duller affair, but the quality and quantity are at least known.’
‘Why go to London in the first place?’
‘My father had his heart set on brilliant matches for his children. My late sister-in-law’s mother advised him to send me down there. I was to share the Season with her niece. Unfortunately the girl became ill and was forced to abandon the project. My father determinedly pressed ahead.’
‘Did your father take the disgrace well?’
‘My father died of lung fever, in the same epidemic that took Jayne. He never knew. When my brother’s letter arrived, my duty to return to Northumberland was clear.’ Even as she said the words, she knew they were a half-truth at best. Simon’s letter demanding her return had been a godsend, a chance to lick her wounds and to dedicate her life to being sensible and calm. It was wrong of her to think that their deaths had been providence, however much it felt that way. ‘I learnt my lesson the hard way, and have no regrets.’
‘No regrets.’ His eyes swept down her body, lingered on the neckline. ‘That is good. I had worried. Songbird would not have wanted it.’
She paused and smoothed out the lines of her green round grown. ‘Is there some other reason you called, Lord Coltonby? Surely it is not to reminisce over departed friends. I have turned my face towards the future. Life has been good to me.’
‘Your book, Miss Clare, as you did not call for it. I felt certain you had need of it now that you were safely home.’
‘My book.’ Diana stared at the volume and then back Lord Coltonby. ‘Of course, my book.’
She reached out to take it and their fingers touched. A small shock jolted her arm and she fumbled with the book, sending it tumbling towards the ground. Brett smoothly caught it and placed it gently on the small table.
‘I had expected you to send a note, as you held the advantage,’ he said into the silence.
‘I had no wish to trouble you or your servants with such a trifling matter,’ Diana breathed.
‘And here I thought you would want to see me again.’ His eyes became hooded. ‘We have unfinished business, you and I.’
‘We have no business.’ Diana cleared her throat, ready to send him on his way, before she asked him to stay. With every breath she took, that little reckless piece of her seemed to once again grow stronger. She had to slay it before it led her back down the road to ruin and scandal, a road she had blithely trod before. Her heart pounded in her ears.
‘I intend on teaching you to drive, Miss Clare. I have no wish to discover the roads cluttered with all manner of gigs and carriage simply because of your inattention.’
‘It will not happen again, I can assure you. In any case surely you will not remain in the neighbourhood for long. A few weeks at most.’
‘You know my schedule? Intriguing. Is this some party piece of yours? Or do you wish me ill?’
‘Sir Cuthbert always complained of being buried in the countryside,’ she said quickly to cover her faux pas. ‘He only spent a little time here each year.’
‘I am hardly Sir Cuthbert. His figure is far more rotund than mine. I do not think there is any danger of anyone mistaking us.’ Lord Coltonby smiled. Diana found it impossible not to answer his smile with one of her own. ‘I find the air very agreeable here.’
‘On that we hold the same opinion.’
‘Shall we be friends as well as neighbours? Put the past behind us?’
Diana drew in a breath. Friendship? Since when did