Diana, with her appetite stimulated by the ride, ordered a slice of strawberry torte, and her father, spoiled for choice, eventually settled on the rum cake after being informed that the rum came all the way from the Bahamas. So enjoyable was this cake that when Lord Brockwood joined them an hour later, not only did he recommend it, Lord Westbury was persuaded to try another slice.
Eventually, with tea and cake consumed, the three took their leave, and the tea-room proprietor personally thanked them for their patronage. They strolled back through the village, mounted their horses and enjoyed a gentle ride across Brockwood land toward the folly.
“Needlepoint Folly is so named because the outline of the window in one of the towers looks, from a distance, like a tapestry needle,” Rollo explained. “The folly is also called Sarah’s Folly after my great-grandmother, who designed it to resemble the ruins of a monastery.” He pointed out the structure that had just come into view on the horizon.
As they neared the folly, the window that resembled a needle became visible. “How enchanting!” Diana declared. “Did your great-grandma design it thus, or was the needle silhouette an accident?”
“The story told is that, although it was an accident, it was Sarah herself who spotted the resemblance and named the folly Needlepoint Folly.”
As they got closer, Rollo could see his mother and his other guests sitting on the grass in the shelter of the mock ruins unpacking a food hamper. “Let us dismount here and join the others. It seems we are just in time to eat.”
Viscount Westbury felt that, having delivered Diana safely into the company of her mother, his chaperonage was no longer required and made his excuses. “I hope you will excuse me, Lord Brockwood, but I have some pressing correspondence that I would like to deal with and so will, with your permission, return to the Hall.”
Rollo was almost sure this was not the case, but sympathized with Westbury’s wish to escape back to the sanctity of the study. He himself had contemplated doing likewise, but as the host knew he could not politely do so. “Please do return. We will see you at dinner.”
A cold repast of chicken, ham, fruit and cheese was enjoyed by the small party, following which Oliver suggested a game of hide-and-seek. Caroline, in particular, thought this would be great fun. Everyone agreed and so, after setting the boundaries within the perimeter of the folly, Caroline was chosen to be “it.” She began to count to one hundred and everyone set off to hide.
There were endless hiding places, for the folly had a lot of small rooms and nooks and crannies. Steps led to hiding places at higher levels. Lady Westbury and her sister, Lady Colpert, wandered off together and “hid” sitting on a comfortable bench at the far side of the folly. Oliver headed for the top of Needlepoint tower and Rollo a small chamber off the west wall. Diana wandered about and having spotted and rejected several hiding places was still out in the open when she heard Caroline shout. “One hundred! I am coming to find you!”
Rollo spotted Diana from his hiding place and saw that Caroline was heading their way. He stepped toward her, reached out and grabbed her around her waist, then pulled her into the small chamber with him. “Shush,” he cautioned. He could feel the heat of her body through her thin shirt as his arms encircled her and held her out of sight until Caroline passed by. He could smell the soap she had used to wash her hair, and unable to stop himself, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. What was he thinking? He was losing all reason, but she did feel good. He released his hold, suddenly worried that he may have frightened her, only to find that she remained pressed against him, her breathing rapid. When she turned to face him, he lowered his head and kissed her gently on her lips, which yielded beneath his as if inviting further exploration. For a brief wild moment Rollo felt the urge to crush her body to his and deepen the kiss. Diana’s soft sound at the back of her throat, almost a moan, brought him back to his senses.
Firmly but gently he pushed her away. “Forgive me,” he rasped, his own breathing ragged now. “Caroline has passed us, so go hide behind the pillar opposite.”
Diana was too surprised to move quickly when pushed from Rollo’s arms. She had felt his breath against her face as he had drawn her close. Had she imagined the kiss? It was so gentle and so brief that she might have dreamt it, only…her lips still tingled from the touch of his. Her heart had been hammering when Rollo had pulled her in to share his hiding place, but it had not been from fear; no, she had been excited by his touch and his arms around her. If the kiss had been real and not imagined, she had welcomed it, it had thrilled her, and she had wanted more. She would have happily stayed in his arms had he not sent her on her way. Maybe she was wicked, after all.
“I can see you, Diana,” shouted Caroline, who ran toward her with skirts held up to stop her tripping. “Help me look for the others.” Together they found their mothers, who were not really making any attempt to hide and were deep in conversation. Then Rollo was easy to find as Diana knew his hiding place, although she did not let Caroline know this. Rollo, who knew all the hiding places from his youth, quickly found Oliver and his own mother and the game was over.
“Time, I think, to pack up and return to the Hall,” Lady Brockwood announced, bringing a few groans in response from the younger people.
“Certainly,” agreed Lady Westbury. “We have an early start tomorrow for our journey back to Yorkshire and need to ensure all is in order.”
To Diana’s relief Rollo kept his distance on the ride back to the Hall, allowing her to ride out ahead. She needed time to gather her thoughts. Her body had no business responding to his in the way it had. Rollo was not for her, he did not want to wed, and she was, in society’s opinion, no longer a fit choice of bride for any gentleman. She was ready to go home. She needed to go home.
Rollo, admiring Diana’s slight figure atop Demon, chided himself for having given into impulse and stealing a kiss. The young lady had had her reputation tarnished by a scoundrel and now he was acting no better. It was as well she was leaving tomorrow. In all likelihood their paths would not cross again.
Chapter 8
It was very early on Monday that the carriages to take Diana, her parents, Caroline and Lady Colpert home was made ready. Although barely six o’clock, the sun was already shining and it looked to be a favourable day for travelling. The journey back to Yorkshire would take three days; they would then all spend a night at Caroline’s home, Ayreton Manor, before Diana and her parents returned home to Caulder Hall.
On the whole they were a cheerful group of travellers. The inns they stayed at on their journey were comfortable and the carriage was well sprung. Diana felt her mood lifting the farther north they travelled. They would soon be at Ayreton Manor. Her younger sister, Prudence, had been staying there with her cousins whilst Diana and Caroline had been in London. Pru, who had just turned sixteen, would be excited to hear about their London season, for she would have her turn two years hence. Diana hoped that news of her unfortunate incident had not yet reached Pru’s ears. The girl would have to know the truth, but Diana would rather she heard it from her than from the tongues of the gossipmongers.
They were, as always, made welcome at the Manor. Pru, her blonde curls bouncing in the breeze, rushed out to meet the carriage. She gave Diana and her parents each a big hug in turn as they alighted.
“You are back early!” she exclaimed. “We weren’t expecting you for at least two weeks. Come, Diana, Caroline, we shall have tea and you can tell me all.”
“In time,” said her mother. “I think we all need to rest and freshen up first. We are dusty and tired from the journey. There will be plenty of time after dinner for talking. We will also want to know what you have been doing and if you have kept up with your studies.”
“You know I hate to wait!” Pru pouted and gave a little stamp of her foot. Her smile, however, showed she was not really upset.
Diana was shown to her bedroom and she had just finished washing the grime off her hands and face when Pru tapped on th
e door and entered before waiting to be invited in.
“Come, Diana, have pity on me and at least tell me something of what it was like in London, or I swear I will have no appetite for dinner.”
Diana considered what to tell her excited sister and at last decided it would be better to explain about the wager and her tarnished reputation here in the privacy of the bedchamber than in front of the whole family later. She needed to warn her sister to be careful and not so naive when it came her turn as a debutante.
“To begin with, London was very exciting. We shopped for new clothes and you would be amazed at how the London fashions differ from those in Yorkshire. We attended Almack’s and went for rides in Hyde Park. We made a lot of new friends and everyone was very kind. Would you believe that I even waltzed?” Diana wanted Pru to know that, initially, she had enjoyed her season.
“You waltzed in public! How forward—that would not be allowed here. Who with?” demanded Pru, her expression one of eager anticipation.
“With Lord Brockwood, who’s nicknamed the Earl of Ice. But I liked him in spite of what everyone else thought. He danced with all the new debutantes who were presented and I just happened to partner him in a waltz.” Diana was not about to reveal to her sister that she had met him before and why he had needed to talk with her.
“Ooh!” exclaimed Pru, her bright eyes wide with interest. “I have heard of him. Is his nickname well deserved?”
“It is indeed,” replied Diana, who found herself smiling at the memory of his kiss. He had not seemed at all cold then. “He has cold piercing blue eyes, his expression is stern, and he has seldom been known to smile or show emotion. He appears on the surface to be a very cold fish indeed.”
“Was it horrible dancing with him?” Pru shuddered.
“I did not find it so, but after he had danced a sequence with Caroline, she said she hoped he would never ask her again—which, of course, he did not.”
“I will ask Caroline about him. Who else did you meet?”
“We met a lot of people and they all seemed very friendly, but I am afraid to say that we were sadly taken in. What I am about to tell you does me no credit, but I want you to hear what happened from my own lips.” Diana took a deep breath before continuing.
“We were not aware of it, but is seems that some of the young gentlemen had made a wager to compromise a debutante in her first season. The one who did this first would win a large sum of money. Caroline and I did not know that the gentlemen who had been paying us attention were among the ones who had made the wager, and we were completely taken in by them. We attended a grand ball hosted by the Countess of Whittington, which was purported to be the event of the season. I was very foolish and drank too much champagne.”
“I would love to try champagne,” interjected Pru, unaware of how the story would unfold.
“Well, I drank too much and it was very hot and I was feeling fuzzy-headed, so I went outside to cool down. Lord Cotson, whom I had met on several occasions and who I assumed was a respectable gentleman, followed me out and the next thing I remember he was trying to kiss me and he ripped the bodice of my gown. The Countess of Whittington saw this and my reputation was ruined. Mama and Papa took me straight home and put me to bed. I woke up the next morning feeling very poorly and, to my shame, I had disgraced myself and my family.” Tears were by now trickling down Diana’s face.
Pru put her arms around Diana to comfort her, and tears of sympathy welled in her eyes. Diana was a good person, she knew; one who always tried to do what was right. It was not fair she had been so deceived.
“Do you want to tell me what happened next?” Pru asked gently.
Diana dried her tears and told her sister the whole story, including Caroline’s upset around Henry Straw—but not the kiss she’d shared with the Earl of Ice. “Lord Cotson could not be found to be taken into account, it seems he left the country. Caroline was upset because Mr. Straw, who she had come to admire very much, was found to also be involved in the wager and so she refused to see him when he called. I was unable to go out in society and Caroline did not want to. Lord Brockwood kindly allowed father to do business with him earlier than planned and so we spent several days at Brockwood Hall and then journeyed directly home. And that is why we are earlier home than expected.”
“I am so sorry,” Pru said. “Surely it will soon be forgotten and you will be happy again.”
“I hope so,” said Diana with feeling. “I pray that my ruination will not affect your prospects. I just want to get home and back to my normal life now.”
Pru planted a kiss on her cheek. “I am glad you have told me. I am so sorry that this awful man did this to you, and he should be called out. What a coward to run off.”
“Enough now,” Diana said. “You’d best get back to your room. We will just about have time to get changed before dinner.” She shooed her sister out of the room.
The conversation over dinner was lively, as is inevitably the case when family comes together. Diana, with heightened awareness, realized that talk of London was avoided or deflected, which, led her to believe that her parents must have related something of the events that had occurred to the others around the table She was grateful for this, although somewhat embarrassed. However, surrounded by those who she knew loved her, she managed to relax enough to enjoy the meal, secure in the knowledge that she would be back safely in her own home the following day.
Chapter 9
In Hampshire Rollo had also breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage of his departing guests moved off down the gravelled driveway of Brockwood Hall. His business with Viscount Westbury had concluded in a satisfactory manner and he had salved his conscience, to some extent, regarding his own lack of action that had resulted in the Viscount’s daughter, Diana, having her reputation sullied.
He was grateful that Diana, even though visibly distressed by the turn of events and possibly not thinking clearly, had not disclosed his own secret. A more scheming, less naive girl may well have done such a thing to distract attention from herself. He remained indebted to her.
When the carriage was out of sight, Rollo made his way back to the library and poured himself a generous measure of brandy, then took a seat in his favourite armchair. Yes, it was a good thing his guests had left. He found Diana, although only a young chit, most unsettling. She seemed immune to his cold demeanour, and her soft brown eyes had looked at him with such trust that he had found it hard to remain unmoved. Good God, he had even kissed her! Her horsemanship and her handling of the usually unmanageable Demon was impressive. And she had felt wonderful in his arms. Yes, it was definitely a good thing his guests had left.
The sound of the library door opening broke his reverie. Oliver entered the room and it was soon obvious that he, too, was pleased to see their guests leave.
“I say, can we all go back to the city now?” he asked. “There are still a few weeks of the season left for our enjoyment. It has been hard work here what with everyone being in the doldrums about the fiasco in London. No fun whatsoever.”
“The blame lies squarely with you and your friends for the situation those young ladies found themselves in, so do not complain to me if they are poor company. Lord Cotson should be thankful he was not brought to the altar at gunpoint over his behaviour. In fact, had he not fled the country like a coward, he may well have been.” Rollo had little patience with his brother’s moaning. “You and Mother are welcome to return to London. I, however, will remain here a little longer and ensure the horses Viscount Westbury has purchased are in good order for their journey to Yorkshire. The foal, Starburst, will be able to leave his mother by the end of next week to travel with them, and I will accompany them as far as London.”
Oliver grinned. He had had enough of the country and knew his mother would be only too pleased to return and reopen the London house. If Rollo wanted to tarry longer in the country, he was welcome to do so.
Lady Brockwood was more than happy to have her youngest son e
scort her back to London, and she and Oliver set off the following day. Rollo planned to leave for London a week hence and determined to spend the next seven days in a leisurely manner whilst catching up on estate business with his steward and eschewing any company or entertainment.
Rollo was soon to learn that this plan was not to bear fruition. The first morning the head groomsman asked for an audience. “Milord, that devil ’orse ’as thrown poor Paddy again, an’ this time I think Paddy may ’ave ’ad ’is leg broke. I’ve splinted it the best I can but t’other lads are not wanting to deal with t’animal.”
This was bad news. Rollo had secretly been hoping that Diana’s influence on Demon might have settled him. The animal was a fine specimen, but of little use if he was intractable. “Send for the surgeon for Paddy at once. Leave off exercising Demon. Just make sure his stable is cleaned—move him into another when you muck his out. I’ll come down tomorrow and take him out.”
True to his word, the next morning found Rollo standing in the stable yard waiting for a reluctant stable lad to saddle Demon. He planned to ride around the perimeter of the estate so he could check that all the boundary walls were in good order and at the same time give Demon a thorough workout.
“How long does it take to put a damned saddle on a horse?” Rollo yelled in the general direction of the stable block in frustration. He’d been waiting for the better part of twenty minutes. When he did not receive an answer, he marched into the stable to give the boy a tongue-lashing, only to stop in his tracks as Demon flew past him whilst a scruffy-looking stable lad lay on the floor, apparently unconscious, with a mark that looked very much like a hoofprint on his jerkin.
The Earl of Ice Page 7