* * *
‘So, the little hostess has gone to bed.’ Frances stood at his shoulder. ‘Should we do the same, Alexander?’
‘Of course, but not together.’
‘Oh, my dear, are we still preserving your little foible about respectability?’
Her laugh was soft, smoky, and once he would have found it seductive, but he had heard her use it too often and with too many men. He turned to face her. The last few remaining guests were gathered at the far side of the room. There was no one to overhear them.
‘No, I mean that our little flirtation is at an end. It should not come as a surprise, we have seen so little of each other recently.’
‘You have been busy with your plans for the party,’ she replied. ‘And then you have been running around after Lady Hune and her heiress.’
‘True, but we could have found time to see one another, had we so wished.’ He said gently, ‘A little light-hearted flirtation, Frances, that is what we agreed.’
‘At first, perhaps—’
‘I hope you won’t pretend to be heartbroken,’ he continued, a hint of steel entering his voice. ‘You may not have been able to get me into your bed recently, but I know there have been plenty of others.’
She stared at him, biting her lip. Anger was smouldering in her eyes and he wondered what it cost her not to rip up at him. After a moment she lifted her white shoulders in a shrug and gave a small, rueful smile.
‘Why should it end? If we still amuse one another—’
‘It is over, Frances.’
She touched the jewels at her throat. ‘Is that what you were trying to tell me with this?’
‘I think perhaps it was.’
‘Then why did you not say so, when you gave it to me?’
‘Then I had not quite decided. We might have gone on a little longer, if you had not invited Urmston to join us here.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘A mistake, my dear, to bring your lover here.’
She did not deny it, he noticed.
‘Sir Charles and I have been...friends...for many years.’
‘Then he will be able to console you now our liaison is at an end.’
The smile grew and she moved closer.
‘I may yet change your mind.’
‘I doubt it.’ Alex stood his ground. Her perfume filled his senses, but it did not move him. He saw her beauty for what it was: a thin veneer over an ice-cold heart. Eventually she realised he was not going to succumb to her charms and she moved away, giving him one final, regretful smile before she left the room.
* * *
It was a novel experience for Diana, to leave the children with Nurse and go downstairs to break her fast with the guests. Alex was right, Nurse was more than capable of looking after Meggie and Florence, and Jenny, who had been promoted to be her full-time maid, was the eldest of a large family and was only too pleased to add the care of the two young ladies to her duties.
Without exception everyone attended morning worship on Sunday. As hostess, Alex demanded that Diana should enter the church with him, but she insisted that they should have Meggie and Florence walking between them. The rest of their guests filed in behind and Diana knew that her neighbours were watching everything with the liveliest curiosity. The invitations to the Chantreys ball had all been accepted, no one would miss the opportunity to attend such a grand event. She was grateful to receive an encouraging nod from Squire Huddleston’s lady and smiles from Mr and Mrs Frederick, kindly people who had often deplored Diana’s solitary existence at Chantreys, and as everyone went out into the sunshine after the service Diana knew there were many introductions to be made before she could return to the house.
Strangely Diana was undaunted by the prospect. She kept her head high as she left the church, concentrating upon her steps, not scurrying away to the carriage but walking slowly, putting equal weight on each foot. Her left leg ached with the effort but her reward was in her smooth, almost gliding progress. And the smile she received from Alex.
* * *
The first week passed uneventfully and much more agreeably than Diana had envisaged. Even Lady Frances showed her no more disdain than she displayed for the rest of the party. It was clear that with the exception of Sir Charles Urmston, Lady Frances found the company at Chantreys beneath her. Diana had seen the pair exchanging looks full of mockery and deplored their ill manners, but she said nothing. They were the earl’s friends, not hers. Alex himself proved to be an affable host, there was little ceremony and the guests were left to amuse themselves as they wished. If Diana could fault the earl it was that he was very eager she should not be left out, even though she would have happily remained in the background. He asked her to assist Mr Johnson in seeking out a particular book from the library, encouraged Mr Avery to accompany her when everyone strolled in the gardens and he even persuaded her to play the harpsichord for Sir Sydney Dunford when he entertained them with a song in the evenings.
It was all very enjoyable, but Diana wondered why Alex should be putting himself out for her, when he still maintained he wanted her and the children to leave Chantreys. She watched him as he moved about the drawing room each evening after dinner, laughing and talking with his guests. She had the strangest feeling that she had known him all her life and yet it was not true, she knew almost nothing of him. When she saw Mr Wollerton sitting a little apart from the rest one evening she took the opportunity to join him. Wine and brandy were available as well as tea and she knew the gentleman had been imbibing freely, so she felt confident he would answer her questions. They spoke idly for a few minutes and then she plucked up her courage.
‘Mr Wollerton, you know Lord Davenport better than anyone here, I think. Will you tell me something of his life, how he lived before he became earl?’
Mr Wollerton looked a little hesitant.
‘I would have thought you would know most of it, being his sister, so to speak.’
‘We have been in company together very rarely,’ she explained. ‘I was still in the schoolroom when Margaret married his brother and after that, when he visited Chantreys, my duties as a governess kept me in the schoolroom.’
It was not the whole truth, but the gentleman did not question it.
‘You knew him at school, I think,’ she prompted him. ‘Was he a scholar or a sportsman?’
He considered the matter as he settled himself more comfortably in his chair. As Diana had hoped, having been well fed and supplied with ample quantities of drink, Mr Wollerton was in an expansive mood.
‘Oh, a sportsman, most definitely,’ he said at last. ‘But he always had a taste for the arts.’
‘I know,’ she said wryly. ‘He wants to house his collection at Chantreys.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Mr Wollerton coughed and looked a little embarrassed.
Diana laughed, begged pardon for discomfiting him and gently drew him out to talk of Alex’s schooldays. She built up a picture of a lively, vigorous young man but with a serious side, one that few people but his closest friends ever saw. She did not doubt that Gervase Wollerton was a good friend and a loyal one, too. He showed a reluctance to talk about the wild young Alexander Arrandale, who had burst upon the ton with a fortune in his pocket and no responsibilities.
‘Was he a typical Arrandale?’ she asked him. ‘I have only heard about the family from my sister. She told me that James was the exception, quiet and studious and nothing like his wayward brother, with his sports and gambling and women.’
She realised Mr Wollerton was looking uneasy.
‘Should I not have mentioned it? It is the truth though, is it not? You may tell me, sir, for I am not easily shocked, I assure you.’
‘Well, yes, Alex was very wild when he first came to town, but nothing serious, you understand. He did not run through his fortune, like many young hotheads might do. He used his m
oney to develop his sporting prowess and to indulge his passion for art. He likes collecting beautiful objects.’
‘And beautiful women, Mr Wollerton. Is London littered with broken hearts?’
‘No, no, not at all—Alex ain’t like that,’ he said quickly. ‘There are females aplenty on the hunt for a husband, London is full of ’em. But Alex is a great gun and he is not one to raise false hopes. Believe me, his liaisons have always been with females who understand what he is offering them. And he’s very generous, too, he always makes sure they have some pretty but expensive gift when it’s time to part. Diamonds and the like. That’s what the ladies seem to like most, jewellery!’ He stopped, then added ruefully, ‘By George, Miss Grensham, I should not be telling you all this, I beg your pardon.’
‘No need, Mr Wollerton. I am glad to learn so much about the earl.’ She laughed. ‘And you have my word I shall not tell him you have, um, opened the budget!’
* * *
Across the room Alex watched them with growing irritation. What the deuce was Gervase saying to keep Diana at his side for so long? And laughing so freely. She had not appeared so much at ease with any of the other fellows. He straightened in his chair. Do not say that Diana was forming a partiality for Gervase! Everyone knew Wollerton was a confirmed bachelor.
An unpleasant doubt shook him. There was no denying Diana looked very well in the new gowns Madame Francot had made for her. Last night’s creation in teal-coloured silk had enhanced the flames in her red hair, while the green silk she was wearing now made her eyes shine so that he was reminded of the seasons, of hazelnuts and spring moss. His eyes fell on the pearls around her neck. They were very fine, but she needed something warmer on that fine skin of hers.
He was aware of a sudden change in the conversation. Lord and Lady Goodge were preparing to retire. Alex walked to the door with them and called to the footman dozing in the hall to light their bedroom candle. When he returned to the drawing room he wandered across and stopped beside Diana’s chair. She was laughing at something Gervase had said to her and when she turned her face towards Alex it was still alight with mischief, her eyes dancing. His breath caught in his throat at the beautiful picture she presented.
‘Go away. Alex, can you not see that Miss Grensham and I are enjoying a tête-à-tête?’
For once Alex was not in the least amused by his friend’s humorous quip. His scowl deepened.
‘Miss Grensham—’ he stressed her name ‘—must not neglect her duties as hostess.’
Her brows rose but she responded mildly enough.
‘No, of course not. The party is breaking up, I must go and speak to Mrs Peters again before she goes to bed. If you gentlemen will excuse me...’
Gervase jumped to his feet as she walked away.
‘You are rather cross-grained tonight, old friend,’ he observed, his eyes on Diana’s retreating form. ‘If I did not know better, Alex, I would think you were jealous.’
‘Jealous? What rot!’ Alex gave a short laugh as he walked away, but he was uncomfortably aware of his friend’s thoughtful gaze following him across the room.
Chapter Twelve
Another day, another new gown. Diana felt the smile building inside her. She had never before had so many new clothes. There was no doubt it lifted one’s spirits to have so many to choose from. Or perhaps it was just to have so much adult company. She hummed quietly to herself as she allowed Jenny to help her into the embroidered lemon muslin. The girl had also proved herself adept at dressing hair, and when Diana went downstairs her wayward tresses had been tamed and confined upon her head by a wide yellow ribbon. She felt fresh and cool, which was an advantage when the day was promising to be very humid.
It was so warm that Diana ordered all the windows in the reception rooms to be opened and had cushions, chairs and rugs placed out of doors in the shade of the trees on the lawn so that everyone might wander freely out of doors. It proved a popular idea and by noon most of the party were gathered under the trees, sitting or reclining as their mood dictated.
Alex strode out to join them.
‘Fingle is bringing refreshments for us.’
‘Oh, well d-done, my lord,’ stammered Mr Hamilton. ‘That is just what is required.’
‘Pray do not thank me, Hamilton. Our hostess arranged it.’
‘Then Miss Grensham has our undying gratitude,’ declared Sir Charles Urmston. He directed a little bow at Diana, but there was mockery in the gesture and she chose to ignore it. He was lounging very close to Lady Frances, who murmured something that made him smile. Diana could not help wondering if that was the reason Alex did not sit down beside the lady.
‘Is that John Timothy going off?’ remarked Mr Wollerton, observing a solitary figure riding away from the house.
Alex threw himself down upon a spare rug. ‘Yes. He is gone to town to fetch something for me.’
‘Poor man, to be obliged to ride out today, when it is so very warm,’ declared Miss Prentiss, fanning herself vigorously.
‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Mrs Peters, closing her book. ‘I vow it is a day for doing nothing at all.’
‘I do not think Miss Grensham would agree with you,’ murmured Alex. ‘Did I not see you in the grounds with Meggie and Florence before breakfast this morning?’
‘Why, yes.’ Diana nodded. ‘I thought it would be wise to take them out early, before the day became too hot.’
‘Dear little girls,’ murmured Lady Frances with an insincere smile. ‘And what are they doing now?’
‘Giving Nurse a headache, I shouldn’t wonder,’ murmured Alex.
Diana chuckled, but shook her head at him.
‘Nothing of the kind. My maid is looking after them and when I left they were engaged in painting pictures for her. When that is done I expect they will take up their sewing. Jenny is an excellent needlewoman and is helping them to make clothes for their dolls.’
‘How admirably well organised you are.’ Alex stretched out and put his hands behind his head. ‘You think of everything, Diana.’
Diana started slightly at his use of her name in company, yet there was no reason why he should not do so. They were brother-and sister-in-law. She was his hostess. Yet she was aware of the knowing glances that passed between some of the guests and the cold stare Lady Frances bestowed upon her. Diana was thankful she was wearing her rose-green spencer or she would have shivered at the iciness of that look.
Fingle provided a welcome diversion when he led out a small procession of servants with various jugs of wine, ale and lemonade, plates piled with tiny baked fancies, plus a large and colourful bowl of fruit. She was gratified by the exclamations of delight, the little crows of pleasure from the ladies as they picked out a delicate pastry, the satisfied sighs of the gentlemen as they quaffed the cool ale or sipped a glass of wine.
When everyone had been served the servants withdrew, leaving the remainder of the food and drink on a small table placed beneath one sturdy tree. Conversation became desultory as everyone relaxed, enjoying the food and drink. Only Diana remained alert, observing her guests closely and getting up to hand round more cakes or refresh the glasses when necessary.
Sir Sydney Dunford beamed up at her as he held out his wine glass for refilling. ‘As Davenport says, you think of everything, ma’am.’
‘I suppose one in your position must be organised,’ observed Lady Frances, her voice dripping with insincere sweetness.
‘I am afraid I do not understand you, ma’am.’
‘You will not wish to be moving around any more than you have to, not when each step is such a struggle for you.’ Too late did Diana realise she had walked into a trap. The honeyed words continued. ‘Your poor leg. A childhood accident, I believe. Although I fancy you do not limp as badly as you did in May, Miss Grensham.’ Lady Frances looked pointedly at Dian
a’s skirts. ‘Has the doctor suggested a metal brace for your leg, perhaps?’
The air was charged with embarrassment. Diana heard someone gasp. Mrs Peters, she suspected.
Miss Prentiss stifled a giggle. ‘Lady Frances—!’
Those blue eyes widened. ‘What have I said? I beg your pardon, Miss Grensham, but we have all been getting along so famously, I thought there could be no harm in mentioning it. Not when we are all such good friends now.’
Diana felt her left leg stiffening, the heel beginning to lift. She must concentrate upon standing straight. These barbs could only hurt her if she let them in. Alex, she noted, had not moved. He was still lying on the rug, his eyes closed. She supposed it was possible he was asleep...
‘Oh, my dear...’ Lady Frances put her hands to her cheeks in mock horror ‘...have I offended you? I would not for the world have drawn attention to your little—infirmity if I had realised it would upset you.’
Diana kept her head up and gave a smile every bit as false as Lady Frances’s. ‘No, indeed, why should I be offended? I am very happy to tell you that there have been no doctors involved in my recovery, merely my own hard work and persistence.’
‘Indeed, Diana works harder than anyone I know.’ Alex scrambled up. ‘More wine, anyone?’
So he had not been sleeping. But he had not rushed to her defence, either. Had he enjoyed her humiliation? Having her affliction brought to everyone’s attention? She felt a sudden surge of anger. She had misjudged him.
Dismayed at the prickling of tears in her throat, Diana moved over to the table full of food and tried to look busy, pointlessly moving things around. Even there she could not escape, for Lady Frances followed her and murmured in a low voice.
‘Oh, my dear, I do beg your pardon. I am mortified to have embarrassed you, but indeed, indeed we are all very pleased to see you walking so well. It must have been very disagreeable for you to appear in public with such an ungainly step. Alexander was very aware of it—’
Temptation of a Governess Page 16