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The Scandalous Lord Lanchester. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Scandalous Lord Lanchester - Anne Herries


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her? Did she think of herself as so worthless that every man must be a fortune hunter if they showed an interest?

      Turning in the direction of the Huberts’ villa, she walked quickly, blinking away the stupid tears. Was it too much to want to be loved for herself? What must a man do to convince her that he was uninterested in her late husband’s fortune?

      She had become suspicious of everyone and that was wrong. Wrong and foolish! Mariah must learn to trust again. If she wished to find happiness in marriage, she must give gentlemen the chance to win her trust rather than treating them all with the same level of suspicion.

      If only Andrew Lanchester had shown some interest in her. Mariah was almost sure she was in love with him. He was the kind of strong, silent man that appealed to her nature—the kind of man who might succeed in keeping her interest above a few weeks. With a little encouragement she could have given him her heart, her person and her fortune—but after seeming to approve of her, he had withdrawn again and she did not know why. He was a friend, but it seemed he had no warmer feelings for her.

      Shaking her head, she walked quickly towards the villa. There was no point on dwelling on the past. She had come to the conclusion that she needed a husband. If it was not to be Andrew Lanchester, then it must be someone else.

      Next time she met an attractive man she would smile and keep an open mind. If she continued to refuse all offers, she would end a lonely old maid.

      ‘Lanchester …’ Andrew heard himself hailed as he left the inn at which he had chosen to stay for a few days while visiting the lakes. He stopped and frowned as he sought for recognition, then smiled at the younger man. ‘What do you here, sir?’

      ‘I am visiting a friend,’ Andrew replied. ‘I had some business in Naples, which came to naught, and took a detour to visit a place of outstanding beauty. Are you here alone?’

      ‘No, with my aunt and uncle. I heard you had resigned your commission. I hope there is nothing amiss?’

      ‘Why do you ask?’ Andrew frowned, then recollected his manners. Lieutenant Grainger was not his enemy. They had been friends of a sort, though the younger man was his junior. ‘Yes, I decided that the time had come to settle down and look after my estate. I heard you might be up for promotion?’

      ‘It was on the cards, but I may also be leaving the service soon. My uncle suffered a severe illness some months ago and needs to spend more time in the sun. My aunt asked me to help them get settled out here—and, as they have no other heir, her husband wishes me to take up residence at their estate in England and assume the running of the place.’

      ‘Shall you oblige them?’

      ‘Yes, I think so. Where are you staying?’

      ‘Here at the inn.’

      ‘That won’t do, Lanchester. We have plenty of room at the villa. I know I speak for my aunt when I say we should be happy for you to join us. Come and have dinner with us this evening. If you should care for it, you could stay with us for a few days. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind your advice about a few things …’

      ‘I am unable to dine this evening,’ Andrew said. ‘But if I can be of any help I shall be delighted to give whatever advice or practical assistance I may.’

      ‘I am glad I ran into you, Lanchester. My aunt will be delighted to meet you. She is feeling a little lost, anxious about finding the right place. They have rented a villa, but may also need something in Milan. My understanding of the language is not as good as I would like.’

      ‘Then I may be able to help,’ Andrew said. ‘I shall come back with you now and we may talk …’

      Andrew was thoughtful as he matched his steps with the lieutenant’s. His meeting with Mariah that morning had been less promising than he’d hoped. It had been in his mind to tell her about his problem, because he was aware that at one time she might have been justified in believing he was considering making her an offer. If he told her that he could not think of marriage until he had cleared his name of this shadow of doubt, she might understand why he had let her down.

      Mariah was beautiful, intelligent and wealthy. How could he expect that a woman like that would be prepared to sit around twiddling her thumbs while he floundered about trying to discover an enemy—an enemy who might or might not be Lieutenant William Gordon? The answer was that of course he could not expect it. Mariah had made it clear that she wanted to marry soon.

      Even if he were free of the stain on his character, was she the woman he wanted above all others? At times he was so certain that his inability to speak almost choked him with frustration, but at others … at others he was not quite as sure. Mariah needed a husband—but would any man do? She’d married once for money and her husband had spoiled her. Would she expect to be indulged and given her own way again? Was that quite what Andrew wanted from a wife?

      Dismissing his confused thoughts, Andrew turned his attention to his companion. Peter Grainger was a fellow officer. It was just possible that he might know where William Gordon was to be found, though he must be careful how he put it. Until he was certain who was behind this business, he must make no accusations.

       Chapter Two

      ‘That rose silk becomes you so well, dearest,’ Sylvia said as they prepared to go down and welcome their guests that evening. ‘I am so glad that you have decided to wear colours again.’

      ‘As you have told me many times, Winston would not wish me to mourn him for ever,’ Mariah said and smiled at her. Sylvia was a pretty, diminutive lady with a charming smile and good manners, and sincere in her affections. ‘I have decided to put the past behind me, Sylvia. I shall cease to look at every gentleman I meet with suspicion and enjoy being courted. I do not wish to live alone for the rest of my life and I cannot always be in the company of friends. It is my intention to marry soon.’

      ‘As to that, you know you are welcome to live with us, Mariah.’

      ‘You are so generous. Andrew told me that Lucinda has said much the same. She wants me to consider returning to Avonlea when I’ve had enough of Italy—though how anyone could ever be tired of such a glorious place I do not know.’

      ‘I do so agree with you,’ Sylvia said, looking fondly at her. ‘If Hubert had no estates to worry him I should prevail on him to stay for another six months at the very least. However, two months more is as long as he can spare and so we shall have to leave in a few weeks so that the journey home is achieved in easy stages.’

      ‘Yes, I know. Besides, there are pleasures to be had at home,’ Mariah said. ‘Winston has a beautiful country house. I have no desire to live there and shall probably let it to tenants, but they must of course be the right tenants. I think I would prefer to live in London with visits to Bath, Avonlea—and, of course, Italy, whenever I can prevail on someone to bear me company.’

      ‘I would not turn down the chance another year. We could always travel with friends if Hubert could not find the time to accompany us,’ Sylvia said. ‘But you may be married by then, dearest. Your husband will wish to travel with you no doubt.’

      ‘Perhaps …’ Mariah looked wistful. ‘Andrew kindly offered to vet my suitors for me. I think I shall accept his help. I have made up my mind that I would be more comfortable married to a decent man. I wanted to fall in love—but perhaps I should settle for a comfortable arrangement.’

      ‘Would you not regret it?’ Sylvia raised her brows. ‘Surely you are young enough to hope for a little romance in your marriage this time?’

      ‘I think Winston was the most romantic man I’ve ever met,’ Mariah said and laughed as she saw her friend’s surprise. ‘No, truly he was. Everyone saw the age difference between us and believed the worst—but he was so gallant and so loving to me. He kissed my hand every morning. Every night I found either a rose or a flower of some kind on my pillow. Even when he was ill he had the gardener bring in a perfect bloom to place in my room for him.’

      Sylvia


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