A Dangerous Love. Brenda JoyceЧитать онлайн книгу.
surrender first, instead of simply attacking and slaying everyone, as so many historians claim.”
Dianna stared, bewildered. “Who is Genghis Khan? What are you talking about?”
Ariella beamed. “I am reading about the Mongols, Dianna. Their history is incredible. Under Genghis Khan, they formed an empire almost as large as that of Great Britain. Did you know that?”
“No, I did not. Ariella, Mother has invited Lord Montgomery and his brother—in your honor.”
“Of course, today they inhabit a far smaller area,” Ariella said, not having heard this last bit. “I want to go to the Central Steppes of Asia. The Mongols remain there today, Dianna. Their culture and way of life is almost unchanged since the days of Genghis Khan. Can you imagine?”
Dianna grimaced and walked to a closet, pushing through the hanging gowns there. “Lord Montgomery is your age and he came into his title last year. His brother is a bit younger. The title is an old one, the estates well run. I heard Mother and Aunt Lizzie talking about it.” She pulled out a pale blue gown. “This is stunning! And it doesn’t look as if you have worn it.”
Ariella didn’t want to give up on her sister yet. “If I give you this history to read, I am certain you will enjoy it. Maybe we can all go to the steppes together! We could even see the Great Wall of China!”
Dianna turned and stared.
Ariella saw that her little sister was losing patience. It was always hard to remember that no one, not even her father, shared her passion for learning. “No, I haven’t worn the blue. The supper parties I attend in town are filled with academics and Whig reformers, and there are few gentry there. No one cares about fashion.”
Holding the gown to her chest, Dianna shook her head. “That is a shame! I am not interested in Mongols, Ariella, and I cannot truly understand why you are. I am not going to the steppes with you—or to some Chinese wall. I love my life right here! The last time we spoke, you were in a tizzy about the Bedouins.”
“I had just returned from Jerusalem and a guided tour of a Bedouin camp. Did you know that our army uses Bedouins as scouts and guides in Palestine and Egypt?”
Dianna marched to the bed and laid the gown there. “It’s time you wore this lovely dress. With your golden complexion and hair and your infamous de Warenne blue eyes, you will turn heads in it.”
Ariella stared, instantly wary. “Who did you say was coming?”
Dianna beamed. “Lord Montgomery—a great catch! They say he is also handsome.”
Confused, Ariella folded her arms across her chest. “You’re too young to be looking for a husband.”
“But you’re not,” Dianna cried. “You didn’t hear me, did you? Lord Montgomery has just come into his title, and he is very good-looking and well educated. I have heard all kinds of gossip that he is in a rush to wed.”
Ariella turned away. She was twenty-four now, but marriage was not on her mind. Ever since she was a small child, she had been consumed with a passion for knowledge. Books—and the information contained within them—had been her life for as long as she could remember. Given a choice between spending time in a library or at a ball, she would always choose the former.
Luckily, her father doted on her and encouraged her intellectual pursuits—and that was truly unheard of. Since turning twenty-one, she had resided mostly in London, where she could haunt the libraries and museums, and attend public debates on burning social issues by radicals like Francis Place and William Covett. But despite the freedoms, she wished for far more independence—she wanted to travel unchaperoned and see the places and people she had read about.
Ariella had been born in Barbary, her mother a Jewess enslaved by a Barbary prince. She had been executed shortly after Ariella’s birth for having a fair-skinned child with blue eyes. Her father had managed to have Ariella smuggled out of the harem and she had been raised by him since infancy. Cliff de Warenne was now one of the greatest shipping magnates of the current era, but in those days, he had been more privateer than anything else. She had spent the first few years of her life in the West Indies, where her father had a home. When he met and married Amanda, they had moved to London. But her stepmother loved the sea as much as Cliff did, and by the time Ariella came of age, she had traveled from one end of the Mediterranean to the other, up and down the coast of the United States, and through the major cities of Europe. She had even been to Palestine, Hong Kong and the East Indies.
Last year there had been the three-month tour to Vienna, Budapest and then Athens. Her father had allowed her this trip, with the condition her half brother escort her. Alexi was following in their father’s footsteps as a merchant adventurer, and he had been happy to chaperone her and briefly detour to Constantinople, upon her request.
Her favorite land was Palestine, her favorite city Jerusalem; her least favorite, Algiers—where her mother had been executed for her affair with Ariella’s father.
Ariella knew she was fortunate to have traveled a good portion of the world. She knew she was fortunate to have lenient parents, who trusted her implicitly and were proud of her intellect. It was not the norm. Dianna was not educated; she only read the occasional romance novel. She spent the Season in London, the rest of the year in their country home in Ireland, living a life of leisure. Except for charity, her days were spent changing attire, attending lavish meals and teas, and calling on neighbors. It was usual for a well-bred young woman.
Soon, Dianna would be put on the marriage market, and she would hunt for the perfect husband. Ariella knew her beautiful sister, an heiress in her own right, would have no problem becoming wed. But Ariella wished for a far different life. She preferred independence, books and travel to marriage. Only a very unusual man would allow her the freedom she was accustomed to and she couldn’t quite imagine answering to anyone, not when she had such independence now. Marriage had never seemed important to her, although she had grown up surrounded by great love, devotion and equality, exemplified in the marriages of her aunts, uncles and parents. If she ever did marry, she knew it would only be because she had found that great and unusual love, the kind for which the de Warenne men and women were renowned. Yet at twenty-four, it seemed to have escaped her—and she didn’t feel lacking. How could she? She had thousands of books to read and places to see. She doubted she could accomplish all she wished to in a lifetime.
She slowly faced her sister.
Dianna smiled, but with anxiety. “I am so glad you are home! I have missed you, Ariella.” Her tone was now coaxing.
“I have missed you, too,” Ariella said, not quite truthfully. A foreign land, where she was surrounded by exotic smells, sights and sounds, facing people she couldn’t wait to understand, was far too exciting for nostalgia or any homesick emotion. Even in London, she could spend days and days in a museum and not notice the passage of time.
“I am so glad you have met us at Rose Hill,” Dianna said. “Tonight will be so amusing. I met the younger Montgomery, and if his older brother is as charming, you might very well forget about Genghis Khan.” She added, “I don’t think you should mention the Mongols at supper, Ariella. No one will understand.”
Ariella hesitated. “In truth, I wish it were just a family affair. I cannot bear an evening spent discussing the weather, Amanda’s roses, the last hunt or the upcoming horse races.”
“Why not?” Dianna asked. “Those are suitable topics for discussion. Will you promise not to speak of the Mongols and the steppes, or supper parties with academics and reformers?” She smiled, but uncertainly. “Everyone will think you’re a radical—and far too independent.”
Ariella balked. “Then I must be allowed absolute, ungracious silence.”
“That is childish.”
“A woman should be able to speak her mind. I speak my mind in town. And I am somewhat radical. There are terrible social conditions in the land. The penal code has hardly been changed, never mind the hoopla, and as for parliamentary reform—”