Diana’s hands stilled. ‘The earl mentioned it to you?’
Lady Frances looked coy.
‘We are very close, you see. And he is so keen to find you a husband.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘My dear, have you not seen how he has gone out of his way to present you in a good light to the gentlemen he has invited here? Of course it will be much easier now there is no longer that ungainly walk to worry about.’
Diana stared at her. There was malice in those sky-blue eyes, but her words made sense. Alex had been throwing her in the way of the bachelors in the party. She moved back towards the main group, forcing a smile.
‘If you will all excuse me, there is something I must attend to.’
* * *
Alex watched Diana hurry away. She was favouring her left leg again. Not as much as before, but he noticed it. She was making an effort, he thought, but she was distracted. He looked suspiciously at Frances.
‘What did you say to her? I thought you were going over to make peace.’
‘I did.’ Frances smiled at him, all innocence. ‘I even begged her pardon for mentioning that ugly walk of hers. I am sure Diana and I will be very good friends now.’
* * *
Diana went quickly into the house, but she was only halfway up the stairs when she slowed and finally came to a halt. The children were in the schoolroom, all the doors and windows there would be open to allow in what little air there was. She needed to be alone, to think, and she did not want the children to see her distress. She went back downstairs, but going through the empty rooms she realised that none of them was really private, she might be disturbed at any moment. The orangery. No one would question her going there. She slipped out of the house and made her way along the winding path, relieved that there was no one in sight, not even a servant.
Why should Lady Frances launch an attack upon her now and why did Alex say nothing to defend her? Close upon that question came another—why should he? They were combatants, after all. Perhaps it was his plan to humiliate her, to force her to remove from Chantreys. She had not thought that of him. She had thought him...honourable. A bitter laugh caught in her throat. Alex was no knight in shining armour, prepared to fight for her honour and shield her from every unfavourable wind.
But he could be and I wish he was.
The thought caught her unawares and a wave of longing crashed over her, so strong that she actually stumbled. Diana rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. It was the weather, it was hot and sultry, no wonder she was feeling low. She forced her mind to concentrate upon the forthcoming ball. It was Wednesday already and she had done little yet to prepare the orangery for the ball on Friday. Tomorrow evening Meggie and Florence would perform there and in the morning a team of men were coming to fit a canopy over this very path, to shelter the guests as they made their way from the house to the orangery. She was glad they were not there now to see her dashing an angry tear from her cheek.
The orangery was empty but stiflingly hot. The few potted plants that had been placed around the walls were wilting from the heat and Diana made a mental note to have them watered. She went from window to window, throwing them wide. The curtains she had ordered had been put up, hanging over the pillars between each window in soft folds of butter-coloured muslin, but even with all the windows open there was no wind to stir them.
‘I thought I might find you here.’
Alex was walking on to the terrace. Diana turned and went back inside.
‘Please go back to your guests, my lord. There is nothing for you to do here.’
‘You are right,’ he said, following her into the room. ‘The walls are too bare.’
So they were to ignore what had occurred in the garden. Very well.
‘I do not want to move the paintings from the house until the last minute,’ she replied. ‘The heat in here might damage them.’
‘Have you chosen the ones you want?’
‘I have. I will give you a list for approval.’
‘I have already said you may do as you wish.’
Diana turned away from him. She began to rearrange the curtains—it was an idle, useless occupation but it meant she did not have to look at him.
‘I am very sorry if Lady Frances upset you.’
She felt the tears pressing against her eyelids and fought them back by summoning up her anger.
‘Why should you be sorry? Perhaps you think her animosity will make me wish to quit Chantreys.’
‘No, of course not—’
She rounded on him.
‘Oh, do not lie to me, my lord. You want this place to show off your works of art and to hold your, your riotous parties. You find this sedate gathering all very boring, you and Lady Frances and Sir Charles Urmston, yawning behind your hands at the decorous conversation. Nothing like your usual racy style, is it, my lord?’
‘Nonsense! And stop calling me my lord.’
‘Well, that is what you are, is it not? Lord of all you survey. Except me, of course. And Chantreys. That irks you, does it not, that your brother’s will gives me the right to remain here?’
‘No! ’Pon my honour, Diana, I will not force you from this house, I have already told you that.’
‘Oh? And what of your plans to m-marry me off?’ she threw at him. ‘Can you deny you invited Mr Hamilton, Mr Avery and the other single gentlemen in the hope that I might fall in love with one of them?’
He glowered at her. ‘Who told you that?’
‘How I learned of it is not important. It is perfectly obvious that that is what you have been doing.’
‘Was it Frances? She was making mischief, Diana.’
‘Oh, I am well aware of it. She wishes to humiliate me, that is very clear.’ She brushed a rogue tear from her cheek. ‘And since you do not stop her I can only conclude you are happy for her to do so.’
‘You are wrong.’
‘Hah!’
She went to turn away but he grabbed her arm.
‘You think I should have jumped to your defence when she suggested you had fitted a brace to your leg?’ He shook his head. ‘You are wrong, Diana. I believe your family—even my brother—defended you far too much, with the result that you have come to see yourself as some ugly, deformed creature. Can you not see now that it is not true? It is time you took your place in society, Diana, you do not need to remain hidden away. And as for Lady Frances, you did not need me to defend you. You answered her very well for yourself.’
‘Yes, well—’ she snatched her arm free ‘—I have grown up having to look after myself.’
‘You have grown up hiding away from the world!’
Suddenly she could stand no more. If he did not leave her soon she would dissolve into tears and she could not bear to show so much weakness before him. She threw up her arms.
‘Just go away!’ she shouted. ‘Leave me alone, Lord Davenport. I do not need you. I do not need anyone!’
‘Diana, stop!’
His words followed her as she dashed out of the orangery and away through the gardens.
She ignored his call. She had lost her temper and needed to be alone with her misery and her anger until she was once more in control. Tears of rage and frustration streamed down her face. She could not go back to the house looking like this, the children would want to know what had upset her. She ran through the gardens and across the grass, away from the house and the guests. She would seek shelter in the woods.
* * *
Alex strode quickly after Diana, swearing softly when she veered from the path and headed for the trees. He should catch her, make her see that he had not intended for her to be hurt. Frances had been deliberately provoking, but Diana’s response had been perfectly judged. She had not crumbled but had replied wit
h her head held high. Even while he was supposedly lying at his ease he had noted that. It had been an effort not to jump in, but he was well aware of the dangers of publicly defending Diana. Frances was already smarting from his rejection. If he gave her reason to think Diana was the cause, she was quite capable of spreading rumours and lies that would be even more injurious than her barbed remarks today.
Diana disappeared from view and he stopped. He exhaled, long and slow, thinking of their guests lounging at their ease on the lawn. She was clearly not going back to them, so he must do so. Later, when she had recovered a little, he would talk to her. Explain.
* * *
As the afternoon wore on the clouds that had been building on the horizon moved in, a thick grey canopy that blotted out the sun and covered Chantreys in an ominous shade. Alex ushered his guests indoors to amuse themselves in the library or the drawing room while the thunder began to roll around the house. Frances and Sir Charles Urmston had disappeared but Alex gave it no more than a thought. Frances was no longer his concern.
When the rain started Alex moved restlessly from room to room. There was no sign of Diana, but it was possible that she had slipped up to the schoolroom. He was making his way upstairs to find out when he saw Diana’s maid on the landing and stopped her to ask if Miss Grensham had come in.
‘No, sir.’ A loud thunderclap made the girl jump and look nervously towards the window. ‘She said earlier that she was going to the orangery. I ’spect she’s sheltering in there.’
Alex dismissed her and stood for a moment, irresolute. A lightning flash, followed by an even louder crash of thunder, decided him. He turned and ran swiftly back down the stairs.
The heavy rain was lashed by a gusting wind and Alex was drenched within moments of leaving the house. He gave a hiss of frustration when he saw the orangery was just as he had left it hours earlier, the windows thrown wide and long folds of yellow muslin billowing out into the rain. He began to run. He should have thought to send someone out to make sure it was closed up. But if Diana wasn’t here, where was she? His heart went cold at the thought of her being out of doors in this storm.
Then, through the deepening gloom, he spotted a bedraggled figure in the first of the windows, pulling it closed. Alex reached the terrace and leaped in through the next window, dragging it shut behind him. Diana hurried past him and in silence they secured the rest. The storm was overhead now, an almost continuous roar of thunder while the rain lashed at the glass and rattled the window frames. A flicker of lightning flashed in through the glass and caught Diana in its brilliant glare. She was drenched to the skin, her hair plastered to her head and the skirts of her thin gown clinging to every curve. Alex’s relief at knowing she was safe was so strong it confounded him, rocked him off balance and found expression in a sudden outburst of anger.
‘What the hell do you think you were doing, leaving this place open to the elements?’ He waved one hand. ‘The new curtains are sodden and the floor is awash!’
Compared to his furious outburst her voice was low, controlled.
‘It is a pity and I am very sorry for it, but we can wash the muslin and hang it out to dry once the storm has passed. And the stone floor will not suffer from a little water. I am sure everything will be in order for Meggie and Florence’s little performance tomorrow evening. I have checked the Broadwood, it is well away from the windows and not harmed.’
‘No thanks to you!’ he raged at her. ‘Of all the irresponsible acts, to go off and leave the place unattended.’
‘You were here when I left, my lord,’ she retorted angrily. ‘I do not think you can put all the blame upon me.’
Alex was being unjust and he knew it, but he could not stop. Such was the raw emotion blazing through him he was almost shaking with it.
‘I am only thankful you had not brought my paintings out here! Heaven knows what damage might have been caused by your thoughtlessness.’
She threw up her head, raking him with her angry glare.
‘Yes, that is all you care about, isn’t it, your precious works of art. Inanimate objects, but they are more important to you than any living, breathing creature!’
‘Now you are being ridiculous.’
‘Am I? You want to fill Chantreys with your paintings and statues, to make it a display case for beautiful things rather than a home for real people, with all their flaws and imperfections.’
She was standing very close, eyes glittering and her breast heaving. The air between them was so charged with emotion it was tangible. He could taste it, feel it. Alex clenched his fists to stop himself reaching for her, whether to shake her or kiss her he did not know.
Diana felt the first stirrings of alarm. She had allowed her temper to get the better of her, she had lashed out, wanting to wound Alex, and judging by his thunderous countenance she had succeeded. But it was not only murder she read in his fierce gaze, there was something else. A look, a primal gleam that she had seen there before. It burned into her, set her pulse racing and threatened to overwhelm her. She felt as if they were balanced on the edge of a precipice, one false step and they would plunge into some unimaginable peril. Surprise and apprehension flickered over Alex’s countenance, gone in an instant, but she knew without a doubt that he too realised the danger of the situation. They must draw back. Somehow she dragged her eyes away and tried to speak calmly.
‘I hope there will be no lasting damage. I came back as soon as the rain started.’
‘Not soon enough,’ he barked at her.
There was no placating him. Diana had the nonsensical notion that she had disturbed a slumbering dragon and she had no strength left to defend herself. She must get away. Quickly.
‘No,’ she agreed, determined not to antagonise him further. ‘We had best get back to the house.’
* * *
She had stopped fighting him. Alex was aware of an irrational disappointment.
He said sharply, ‘Do not be so foolish. You cannot go out in this weather.’
‘But we are already wet through.’
‘Only an idiot would go out in an electrical storm.’ As if to reinforce his point, the air shuddered with another roar of thunder. In the accompanying flash of light he saw the dejected slump of Diana’s shoulders. He had never seen her so defeated and it tore at his heart. He took her arm and said more gently, ‘Come into the other room. We need to dry you off a little.’
The shadows were deeper in the anteroom, but at least its small windows faced away from the storm. Alex dragged the protective cover from one of the chairs.
‘Here, use this. Not the finest linen, perhaps, but better than nothing.’
* * *
Diana took the cloth and wiped her face. The urgency that had consumed her when she saw the orangery windows standing wide had evaporated, now she felt cold and miserable. The day had been a disaster, the rapport that had been building between herself and Alex had gone. She had made him angry and shown herself quite ungrateful for all he had done for her. She felt as if she had lost a friend. Her only friend.
Alex had shed his coat and was vigorously rubbing his hair, but he stopped when he saw that she was watching him.
‘Come, you need to dry yourself.’ He took the cloth from Diana’s nerveless fingers and dragged it over her hair, removing the worst of the wet. He briefly rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘That spencer of yours has soaked up water like a sponge. It needs to come off.’
She reached up, but her fingers were shaking too much to do anything more than fumble uselessly with the buttons.
‘Tsk. Here, let me.’ He pushed her hands aside and dragged the sodden velvet from her shoulders. The sleeves were tight and had to be tugged off, but at last the spencer was discarded and he rubbed her bare arms with the cloth. Even through the coarse linen he could feel the chill of her skin. He gave an exasperated
sigh, covering his anxiety with irritation.
‘How could you be so foolish?’ he muttered. ‘If you catch a chill you would be well served.’ He threw aside the sodden cloth and dragged off another chair cover which he arranged over her shoulders. ‘You should have gone indoors as soon as the rain started.’
‘I know it,’ said Diana quietly. ‘I am sorry—’
‘Ah, don’t!’ He stopped her, exclaiming as if the words had been forced from him. ‘You must not be sorry, Diana. Never sorry.’
She looked up, her misery forgotten when she saw the blaze in his eyes. Lightning flickered warningly. They were frozen in a moment of tense silence and Diana knew with sudden, frightening certainty that they were still on the edge of the precipice. She had not stepped back and had no intention of doing so.
There was an explosion of thunder as they crashed together. Diana raised her face and Alex covered it with kisses, finally finding her lips. They parted eagerly beneath the onslaught and his tongue explored her, plundered her senses, possessed her. She pushed herself against him, with only instinct to guide her responses. The kiss became more frenzied, the cloth slipped from her shoulders but she did not need it, she was burning and barely aware of the damp muslin that clung to her body.
His arms tightened. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all and laid her gently upon the sofa. Her loose wet hair pressed against her back and Diana trembled slightly. Alex paused, raising his head, and even in the dim light she could see the question in his eyes. Fearful he would leave her Diana threw her arms about his neck, dragging his head down towards her. He obliged her with another searing kiss. She clutched at his shoulders, wanting him, needing him to continue his assault of her senses. Excitement rippled through her body, she moved restlessly beneath him, sighing as his hands began to explore her, tearing at her gown. When he uncovered her breasts she gasped at his touch, but made no attempt to stop him when he trailed a line of kisses down her throat. Her hands drove through his hair, feeling its silky strength as his lips travelled lightly over her skin. She arched towards him, offering up to him her full, aching breasts. He cupped one with his hand, his thumb circling, teasing while his mouth covered the other and his tongue began to flicker over its hard nub, drawing a response from deep within. A yearning hunger was unfurling inside. Her body was heavy with it, her skin so sensitive that she was aware of his every touch and impatient for more.
Temptation of a Governess Page 17