The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower

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The Enigmatic Lady in the Ivory Tower Page 6

by Hazel Linwood


  “As you say, My Lady,” Diana respectfully acquiesced, though she would much rather have told the lady what she actually thought, but it was not worth losing the fragile truce that appeared to have passed between them.

  Just because the Earl comes to Westwallow does not mean that I have to have anything to do with him.

  Gabriel was sitting on an overturned log in the sun, mending a piece of carriage harness when the Marquess of Westwallow came walking up to him.

  “Gabriel,” the Marquess greeted.

  “My Lord,” Gabriel stood respectfully. “How may I be of service?”

  “My mother and I have decided to invite the Earl of Appley for a hunt. I would like to make certain that everything will be ready and in proper condition upon his arrival. I would like to give him good sport while he is here.”

  “Of course, My Lord. Father and I will see to every detail.”

  “Excellent, thank you.”

  Gabriel knew that he should not say anything more and leave the matter settled, but he could not resist the urge to ask about the Earl’s intentions.

  “Will His Lordship be paying court to Lady Diana?”

  The Marquess’ brows rose in surprise at the question.

  “I believe that is the intention, yes.”

  Gabriel attempted to recover some sense of dignity by disguising his reason for asking.

  “Will Lady Diana be joining the hunt, then?”

  The Marquess’ brow furrowed in thought.

  “I had not thought to ask, but I will. Thank you, Gabriel, for pointing out my oversight.”

  Gabriel bowed his head in acknowledgement.

  “I will have the proper saddle prepared for her if she chooses to do so.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel. Westwallow would be lost without you.” The Marquess laid a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder and squeezed it in genuine affection.

  Gabriel chuckled. “It is not so. You are the beating heart of this estate, My Lord, as you well know. Without you, we are all lost.”

  The Marquess nodded, sighing.

  “I suppose that is true, as I do not have a living son to take my place when I am gone.”

  A sad look came over his face and he sat down next to Gabriel. The action surprised Gabriel but he chose not to comment on it. The Marquess stared off into the middle distance seeing nothing with his eyes, only that which was in his own mind.

  “Are you happy, Gabriel, here at Westwallow?”

  “Of course, My Lord. Why do you ask?”

  The Marquess shook his head. “It is nothing. I only wished to know.”

  “I am quite happy here, My Lord.” Gabriel studied his master’s face. “However, I can see that you are not, if you will forgive the impertinence, My Lord.”

  The Marquess looked up in surprise, then attempted a smile. “I miss my wife. I miss the life we had and the one that we were about to have with our unborn child.”

  “I am sorry, My Lord. Please, forgive me for being so intrusive. I should not have overstepped.”

  “No, there is nothing to forgive.” The Marquess shook his head in dismissal. “I only wish…” His voice faded away as he arose and turned to leave.

  “You only wish what, My Lord?”

  “It is nothing,” the Marquess waved it away. “I will inform you of when to expect the Earl, as soon as I know.”

  With that, the Marquess walked away, leaving Gabriel to wonder what he had intended to say.

  Gabriel watched him, concern furrowing his brow. It was not like the Marquess to behave in such a fashion. It was no secret that the Marquess had been filled with a deep sense of sorrow since the passing of his beloved wife, but he was not usually prone to acts of open malaise in front of the staff.

  He needs a wife. She would never replace his first wife, nor should she, but it would help him to feel better to have someone to confide in and to be comforted by. Sadly, it is not within my power, or a privilege of my class and position, to aid him in such matters. I am honestly surprised that the Dowager Marchioness has not convinced him to marry one of the many ladies of her acquaintance.

  Once he finished mending the harness, Gabriel arose and returned the harness to the stable, then took one of the older mares, that was seldom ridden, out of her stall.

  “Shall we go for a walk, old girl?” The horse nickered and Gabriel led her out of the stables and down the drive.

  As he passed the house, Gabriel caught a glimpse of Lady Diana through the drawing room window. She was sitting with the Dowager Marchioness, talking. The sun filtered through the glass to dapple her skin with pearly luminescence. It was breathtaking and it stopped Gabriel in his tracks.

  She is beautiful beyond measure.

  He could tell by the expression on her face that she was feeling uncertain, anxious even, and he wondered what it was that they were discussing.

  Perhaps she dreads the coming arrival of the Earl of Appley.

  Against his better judgement, he found that the thought pleased him greatly. He did not wish her to feel badly, of course, but he also did not wish for her to have feelings for another man, any man, other than himself.

  She is not for the likes of me and I know it, yet I persist in this foolishness.

  Gabriel shook his head and forced himself to move away from the window and on down the drive. He could still feel her sleeping next to him, when it took all of his strength not to turn around and tell her exactly how she made him feel.

  Clearly, the Marquess is not the only man on the estate who would benefit from the comforts of a wife.

  Grumbling under his breath, Gabriel urged the mare into a faster pace and let her stretch her legs. He could feel the joy of freedom quivering through the mare’s muscles and smiled.

  “That’s a good girl. If only people were so willing to embrace such freedom.”

  He had not been lying when he told the Marquess that he was content with his life, because he was, but ever since Lady Diana had stepped out of the carriage from Kilgrave, he was a changed man. His days and nights were filled with the thought of her. It was a new sensation that he was not at all comfortable with, but he had no say in the matter. His mind and heart had their own ideas and would not listen to his conscience.

  Now the Earl of Appley will come to claim his bride and I will be left with nothing but the dream of her. She can never, will never, be mine and I must learn to live with that fact.

  The pain in his chest told him that such a thing was completely unlikely if not impossible. In the brief time since she had arrived, Lady Diana had entered his mind and neither the promise of heaven nor the threat of hell was going to change it.

  My heart belongs to Lady Diana and there is nothing to be done about it and by it I am condemned.

  Chapter 9

  Diana left the drawing room as soon as she was allowed and went in search of Frances. She found the maid hanging up Diana’s newly laundered and pressed clothing in the armoire.

  “You are never going to believe what has happened,” Diana informed her as she entered the room. “The Dowager Marchioness has invited the Earl of Appley to come to Westwallow under the guise of a hunt, but in truth it is to court me, to win my hand.”

  “I am not surprised. I thought that she might try something like this. She is not a woman to accept being undermined in any way. She will get what she wants from you, one way or another.”

  “She behaved quite strangely today, as well. She was almost kind in her manner toward me.”

  “Perhaps she believes it will make you more amenable to her plans.”

  “She would be wrong.”

  “As you have yet to meet the Earl of Appley, I will reserve judgement for a later time.”

  Diana glared at Frances for the comment. “You will all see that I will stand my ground in this matter.”

  “Of that I have no doubt, but whether it is a productive course of action has yet to be seen.”

  “Et tu, Brute?”

  Frances laughed. “I
ndeed.”

  Diana sighed and plopped down onto the bed in a most unladylike fashion. “I am surrounded by matchmakers of the most devious sort.”

  Frances chuckled. “Is it devious to have your best interests at heart?”

  “I suppose that depends on what those interests involve,” Diana grumbled, rolling over onto her stomach to look up at Frances from the foot of the bed.

  “Your future security, for one.”

  “A paltry excuse for marriage.”

  “Your future happiness, for another.”

  “It is unlikely in the highest degree that such a thing would make me happy.”

  “Then what is it that you desire from life, My Lady? If not marriage, then what? We are not Papists that you might go join a convent.”

  “Quite right, nor would I wish to do so. I am too fond of the notion of love for that.”

  “Then what?”

  “I know not. I will only know that when I feel it,” she shook her head unable to complete the sentence to her own liking. “I will just know.”

  “If only life were truly so simple,” Frances murmured, her eyes filled with compassion for her mistress and friend. “But sadly, it is not and we all must play our part.”

  “For all the world’s a stage and we are all merely players,” Diana mimicked Shakespeare in a most unforgiving tone.

  “As impertinently as you meant that, yes, it is true.”

  Diana shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. I refuse to settle for less than what Georgette had with her love, than what Ernest had with his wife, than what I have with…”

  Diana stopped herself midsentence before she said something that she would not be able to take back. Her own thoughts startled her greatly and she did not know what to do with them.

  “Than you have with whom?” Frances asked, not letting the matter drop. “Has something happened that you have not told me about?”

  “No one, it was nothing.” Diana shook her head to dismiss it.

  “It was most certainly something. I know for a fact that you were not in love with anyone when we left Kilgrave Manor. The only gentlemanly contact that you have had with anyone has been the Marquess and the household staff. That and the stable hand. What was his name again? Gabriel, was it?”

  The look on Diana’s face must have given her inner thoughts and feelings away, because Frances was beside her on the bed in an instant.

  “Tell me everything.”

  Diana proceeded to tell Frances about her every contact with the stable hand and how he had made her feel, just being near. When she was done, Frances sat staring at her wide-eyed.

  “Do not look at me so.”

  “You know that this is impossible. You cannot marry a stable hand. You simply cannot do it. No one is going to allow it.”

  “I said nothing of marriage, Frances, only feelings.”

  “You cannot have feelings for this man. Not only is it dangerous for you and your reputation, but it is also dangerous for him, as he will lose his station here, and perhaps even his life if your honor was impugned in any way.”

  “That is rather harsh.”

  “Life is harsh, My Lady. You were born to a noble house. You must marry into a noble house. There is nothing else that can be done.”

  “It is not fair.”

  “Life is not fair, My Lady. It is to be lived with dignity and honor, but it has never been, nor will it ever be, fair.”

  “So, I am to surrender myself as a sacrificial lamb to the Earl of Appley on the altar of my father’s good intentions, in order to secure him a more permanent legacy, an heir to the earldom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I am little more than chattel.”

  “You are beloved.”

  “Then why can I not be free?”

  “You know why.”

  “Yes, I know, but I cannot stop the anger that still churns within me, and I do not know what to do about it.”

  “Then I suggest that you pray, and pray with fervor, for the day of your decision will be upon you sooner than you think.”

  “It could be a thousand years from now and it would still be too soon.”

  “And yet the time has nearly come. Prepare yourself, My Lady, for your time of unwed girlhood is coming to an end.”

  Frances left the bedchamber, her heart racing in fear.

  My Lady cannot love a stable hand. Oh, this will not do at all. What shall I do? I fear that she is headed down a path of ruin and I am helpless to save her.

  She worried the skin of her lips between her teeth as she bustled down the hallway and descended the back stairs. She had left the room under the excuse that she needed to fetch her sewing supplies in order to mend a loose button on a gown, but in truth it had been to clear her own churning anxious mind.

  I pray that nothing more has happened between them other than what she told me, though what she told me was more than enough to compromise her reputation should anyone else discover that she had fallen asleep next to the man and that she had been sneaking about at night in the stables. I believe that I am going to be forced to speak with him about his behavior towards My Lady and warn him away from her.

  Back at home, Frances would have trusted the butler or the stablemaster to do such a thing, but she was not home and she had no trusted allies within the Westwallow household.

  I will simply have to tend to this myself.

  Gabriel was quite surprised to see the diminutive little mouse of a maid—he had heard Lady Diana call her Frances—come charging down the stable aisle.

  “We need to talk,” she demanded, taking no time at all for pleasantries.

  Gabriel, who had seen military officers with less vehement authority than the woman before him, just nodded and followed her outside to the paddock fence. “How may I be of service, Miss Frances?”

  “You can cease from charming My Lady,” she snapped, her eyes boring into his with a fierce fire. She looked very much like a bee protecting its hive, small, but with a potent sting. “If you do not, I will be forced to tell His Lordship and you will be out of a place.”

  “I have done nothing but make Lady Diana feel at home. She misses Kilgrave. I have done nothing at all untoward.”

  “Then what do you call grabbing My Lady with force as you did in the night? Or falling asleep together under a tree? You have been riding about without a proper chaperone because the Marquess insisted that you were a trustworthy guardian for her safety and her virtue, but I can see from the desire in your eyes that you wish only to bring her dishonor.”

  “I wish no such thing,” Gabriel ground out, the maid’s words hitting his heart like stones. “I would never do anything to bring her harm in any way.”

  “Then cease from conversing with her. Do not speak to her. Do not approach her. Do not come anywhere near her person ever again. If you truly care for her and her reputation, then you will do these things without hesitation. I will not have her honor questioned because of any man.”

  “You are a fierce protector of your mistress, but I swear to you that I mean her no harm.”

  “Then you will surrender to my request?”

  “I cannot,” Gabriel shook his head.

  “Then you have doomed us all.”

  “We were all doomed already.”

  Chapter 10

  When the Earl of Appley arrived for the promised hunt, Diana felt sick. Her stomach was in knots and her teeth ached from clenching them together so as not to speak her true mind on the matter. Like it or not, she was about to meet the man that her family considered to be her betrothed. The Dowager Marchioness had insisted that they meet the Earl upon the front drive. As the carriage approached, Diana feared that she might twist her fingers right off of her own hands, she was so nervous.

  The Earl stepped down from the carriage and immediately came to bow over the Dowager Marchioness’ hand.

  “My Lady, it was most kind of you to extend to me the hospitality of your beautiful home.”
r />   “Think nothing of it, My Lord. It is our pleasure,” the Dowager waved away his gratitude. “Allow me to present Lady Diana Bexley of Kilgrave.”

  “Lady Diana,” the Earl greeted her, bowing over her hand. “At last we meet.”

  “My Lord,” Diana returned the greeting with a curtsy.

 

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