Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

  That was how he had phrased his proposal: “My dear, I believe you will come in time to see that it was the wisest of choices. With my impeccable taste and a bit of discipline, I do believe I shall transform you into a beautiful swan and a very suitable wife. Though I do not flatter myself, I sincerely believe that if you could ignore the difference in our ages, we would be a good match. And you will not find another as good.”

  Diana had stared at him, a little put off by the proposal, and in half a mind to refuse, but the dark stare he gave her made her insides curl in fear and forced her to demurely agree. Besides, Diana knew that her own future prospects were rather inconsequential. The earl’s proposal would take off some of the burdens from her Aunt Florentia and relieve her of the responsibility that a young woman such as Diana must entail. Diana rather thought, too, that she was capable of being a good wife and a good student. Reluctant at first, she had given thought to the proposal and a day later, answered the earl.

  Once it was done, there was no going back. Aunt Florentia had been delighted, of course, although she was kind enough to counsel Diana against a hasty marriage. “After all,” she said, sounding as though she doubted every word, “You are young, and there is always the possibility you will find other prospects.”

  But the engagement ring was already on her—a heavy emerald and gold creation, rather loose on her thin fingers—and Nathaniel had already announced the news to the world. Diana could hardly go back on her word now.

  In two days, she was to be married! In Rome no less! A thrilling thing which would have made any other girl burst for joy. After all, she wasn’t just marrying Lord Bathurst, she was marrying one of England’s keenest duelers, one of Her Majesty’s most decorated soldiers, and the earl of the vast castle and lands of Bathurst. He cut a fine figure too, dressed ostentatiously enough to the point that he had once been considered a dandy; a solitaire as his tie pin, three thick rings on his fingers, and the finest beaver fur for his top hat. He was a large man, standing head and shoulders above most others, with wide shoulders and a fierce forehead that gave him the look of a bull. He had made himself a fortune, quite independent of his title—and all at the age of thirty-six!

  True, there were some whispers attached to his name—whispers of underhanded dealings and unfair contracts—but they were only the unkind rumors that the world attaches on men, to damp the happiness of the men who have conquered it.

  Diana was brought back into the present when Aunt Florentia put a finger under her chin and raised her head.

  “Child, it is not right to look so unhappy two days before you are to be wed,” Aunt Florentia said.

  “It is not unhappiness, Aunty. I have little doubt that Lord Bathurst is a good match—and I mean to do my best to be a suitable wife.” She bit her lip. “I suppose what I feel is just nerves. If I am honest, I still do not know what possessed him to take me aside and propose to me!”

  But the truth was, she did. One of the rumors the world had attached to Lord Bathurst was the rumor of Emmeline Coombs—and Diana, young though she was—knew that a bruised heart could make rash promises.

  Chapter 2

  A Change of Plans

  W hen Diana next stepped below, ready for the luncheon, she had dressed as Lord Bathurst would find appropriate. Her hair was neatly pinned up, with a crystal pin holding it in place, and two artful curls framing her face. She wore an empire waist dress, with yellow lace about it, and matching yellow shoes that she had only recently bought when a traveling vendor from Paris visited London.

  She trembled as she approached Lord Bathurst and bowed—she saw him glance over at her, and could almost hear him, in his mind, as he made a mental inventory of what she was wearing and whether she had worn it before. Nathaniel was very particular about her dress, which easy going Diana rather wished he wasn’t. Still, she felt like a child in front of her headmaster, and when he finally gave her a brief bow and went back to his papers, she let out a whoosh of air in relief.

  This gained her a look from him, which she ignored as she sat down to her lunch.

  Aunt Florentia began immediately, tempted by the delicious beetroot salad and rich creamy linguini set in front of her. Delicious as it was, that last disapproving look had robbed poor Diana of her appetite, and she sadly fiddled with her food.

  “Well, what plans do you have this afternoon?” Nathaniel asked.

  “We were thinking of visiting the Vatican.” Aunt Florentia said.

  “Nonsense!” Nathaniel said. “It is too far away, and Miss Honeyfield must be rested for the wedding. Take her to Piazza Navona or the Trevi fountain instead.”

  “We have already visited those yesterday, My Lord,” Diana interjected. “I was rather hoping to see the pieta statue-”

  Nathaniel raised his eyebrow, and she stumbled to a stop. “I will ask my footman to accompany you,” he said, “The carriage can take you there, and will pick you back up at four o’clock. That should be fine.”

  “Beg pardon, My Lord, but Jeffrey is absent today. He has been replaced by another man—Daniel,” the butler said.

  “What difference does it make? Tell the new man to have them back home safe by four thirty,” Nathaniel said. “Any questions?” he asked Diana, for she had been opening her mouth to protest.

  When he stared at her with his knitted brows, Diana trembled and shook her head.

  Nathaniel was widely considered one of the handsomest men in the ton—wide-shouldered, lean, straight blonde hair and dark eyebrows. His imperious nose and his cupid-like lips had made many a woman swoon, but when Diana looked at him, she only saw his eyes. There was a cold darkness in them, uninviting, impenetrable. His eyes suggested that he would take a whip to any that disobeyed him—whether stallion, footman or wife.

  So it was, an hour after lunch, Diana and Aunt Florentia were in the carriage, and seated beside the footman Daniel, being driven to the Piazza Navona.

  “It is a great pity, that we did not see the Vatican,” Aunt Florentia sighed. “I do declare, I hope I get the chance before you are wed. But, I suppose there is no arguing with your future husband. The Piazza is a beautiful spot.”

  Diana, who was feeling a great rebellion stir in her chest, and had been feeling it all through lunch, said nothing. In her mind, there were many things she would like to say. Foremost among them, she would chide Lord Bathurst for trying to-

  “Did you wish to see the Vatican then, ma’am?” asked the footman. “Why, I shall ask the driver to take us there instead.”

  Diana turned to him. He wore a powdered gray wig, and green and silver livery, and seemed to have seen beyond Aunt Florentia’s sigh.

  “No, no,” Aunt Florentia protested. “We couldn’t possibly!”

  “I was instructed to bring you back by four thirty,” said the footman. “I believe I shall be able to do so. Why not go then? The master has no need to find out if that is what worries you.”

  “Goodness! The cheek of this man!” Aunt Florentia turned up her nose, appalled. “I had no intention of implying that I did not wish to obey Lord Bathurst.”

  “Well, I do,” Diana said suddenly.

  Aunt Florentia stared at her as did the footman.

  The resentment that had been building inside Diana suddenly let itself out. “I think he has certainly no right to stop us from seeing that which you desired—and all because he has a whim! I shall tell him when we are home and chide him for stopping us. But for now, I do wish to go.”

  “My dear-” Aunt Florentia looked appalled.

  “As you wish, miss,” the footman said, and gave her a rather cheeky smile. Diana blushed. She liked the man. There was something rather friendly and open about him. His eyes were large and slightly sleepy looking, but they had a humor in them that appealed to Diana.

  The footman relayed their orders, and swiftly, the company found itself in the holy grounds of Vatican City. Wandering about the gardens, Diana felt some of the peace and magic of the place make its way into h
er heart. Her mind was still uneasy, especially at the prospect of having to face Lord Bathurst again after her little rebellion.

  But surely—surely this was too small, too insignificant a thing for him to be angry about. Would he be rough with her? How would he react to it all?

  Diana looked up from her reverie, and to her surprise, Aunt Florentia was far away from her. She was delightedly examining a beautiful statue that depicted some Roman myth.

  The footman appeared suddenly and said, “Madam! I must ask you to come immediately! Lord Bathurst has found out—and he is by the carriage. He is rather furious. He asked you to leave your aunt so that he might have a word in private.”

  Feeling faint, Diana wished she had not gone against him. What would he do? Would he break off things with her? Surely not.

  Reassuring herself that it would only be a little quarrel and that she would be fine, Diana rushed to the carriage and stepped inside it. To her surprise, Nathaniel was nowhere to be found. She heard a click as a padlock was slipped on the door.

  “Daniel?” She gasped as she saw the footman sitting beside her. “This is highly improper. Open the door at once! Where is Lord Bathurst?”

  “My Lord is still at his castle, my lady,” A laughing voice said. “I suggest you enjoy your ride.”

  A dreadful fear blossomed inside Diana. “This is uncouth behavior!” she said.

  “Uncouth?” The footman laughed again. “My dear, your choice of words amuses me. This is a far cry from uncouth—this is criminal. I am kidnapping you.”

  Chapter 3

  Taken Against Her Will

  D iana found herself staring at her kidnapper, completely nonplussed. Then, in a decisive move, she threw her folding fan at him, and dove towards the windows of the carriage determined to scream for help or jump out.

  The footman was too swift for her. Ignoring the thrown fan, which made a small cut on his face, he grasped her by the waist and pulled her back, then applied a handkerchief on her mouth. With one sniff, Diana was fast asleep.

  “Pity,” Daniel said, sighing at her prone form. He looked out of the window, and called to Antonio, his trusted friend, to be swift.

  “After all, we don’t want her to cause any more fuss. In an hour, news will have reached him and Lord Bathurst shall be after us.”

  Antonio only grunted and spurred the horses to move faster. Behind them, the familiar landmarks of Rome faded away, the magnificent churches of the Vatican becoming a silhouette and then a shadow in the background. Antonio crossed himself, muttering under his breath that a great evil was sure to follow, even as the horses sped on over cobbled roads lined with olive and orange trees.

  Shortly afterward, Diana awoke and Daniel handed her some water to drink.

  “I regret the necessity of having to force you asleep,” He said. “I beg you also to consider that I am ready to do so again if you aren’t obedient.”

  “Obedience!” Diana said, sneering. “I do declare sir, that I am rather sick of being obedient! First Lord Bathurst then you—I have had my fill of it. I assure you that I will not be a docile victim in your heinous crime. If you wish to murder me—I will fight you every step of the way.”

  Daniel shuddered, but a smile played across his lips. “Murder! My dear lady, such forceful words—I merely wish to show you around the countryside a little.”

  “You mock me now, but Lord Bathurst will come for me—and I’ll wager he’ll help you meet your maker then.”

  “I wager he will be looking to kill,” Daniel said, his voice hardening. “But it’s not my life I’m concerned about, it’s yours.”

  “What?” Diana looked at him, completely taken aback.

  Daniel was now removing the powdered wig that he had placed on his head so that his hair was freed. It fell in natural black waves that swept down over his forehead, and he shook his head like a dog coming out of the water, which Diana, despite herself, found vaguely endearing.

  In truth, she was surprised at herself. She should have been terrified at being kidnapped and manhandled the way she had been, but instead, a great calm seemed to have taken hold of her. The same girl who found herself trembling in fear when Nathaniel entered the room, or when she had to face a cotillion ball, felt completely at ease around Daniel.

  It was his face, Diana decided. He had sleepy eyes that were full of good humor, and a ready, pleasant smile on his face, even in circumstances like this. The casual air with which he had kidnapped her almost made her feel as if they were both actors in a secret play.

  Well, at least she had been fine until he had said his last line about Lord Bathurst. What did he mean it was her life that was in danger? Surely, the only threat she faced was from the man sitting beside her?

  The man sitting beside her was now fiddling with the cravat around his neck, and when he succeeded in removing it, he flung it aside as a man will sweep away an insect that has trespassed.

  On the side of his neck, snaking its way down the collar of his jacket, she saw an old scar; raised skin that still looked red and raw. He saw her glance and nodded. “A gift from your fiancé. Delivered by him when I was but a child of fourteen.”

  Diana stared at him, shocked. “They say the devil is an agreeable man! I now believe it. Lord Bathurst would never do such a thing—and you with all your charm and your smiles cannot make me believe it!” But part of her wondered. How little she knew Nathaniel—and yet how well she knew those hard eyes of his. Eyes that were capable of raining punishment on any he deemed criminal.

  Daniel, reading her mind, said, “I may be a devil my lady, but even the devil has his honor. Your beloved Lord Bathurst is the living embodiment of all that is evil in this world.”

  “Why would he do such a thing?” she asked, and hastily added, “Assuming he did it, which I don’t for one minute believe.”

  “Because Lord Bathurst is evil,” Daniel repeated. “I know that is not something you would easily believe, but I assure you it is so. For now, I will spare you my words since they will not be accepted. Instead, I will present you with definite proof.”

  “What kind of proof?” she asked. “It will always be your word against his, and few will believe a footman against the earl. No one will believe a kidnapper’s word against an earl—no matter how sweetly he smiles.”

  “I’m honored to know that you think my smile's sweet, my lady,” Daniel said, flashing his teeth once more. “And to keep you pleased, I will endeavor to smile at you—which is a surprisingly easy task.”

  Diana blushed and looked away. “What proof?” she asked again.

  “A will,” Daniel said. “The will that will prove I am the true Earl of Bathurst.”

  Chapter 4

  The Heir of Bathurst

  F rom any other man, much less a man who had forcibly kidnapped her, Diana would have refused to entertain a moment’s doubt against Lord Bathurst, or hear an ill word against the man she had promised her loyalty to. But Daniel, for all his humor and playfulness, had been very properly behaved since the moment he had so rudely pressed his handkerchief to her face.

  He had made no movement to touch her, or in any way attack her modesty. He had, in fact, even covered her with a light blanket when she had been asleep. Even now, as the carriage bumped and raced through the streets outside Rome, he gave no indication of intended any harm to her.

  As for Nathaniel—Diana stared at the scar on Daniel’s neck, which pulsed with every breath he took. Did she really think that he was capable of hurting a child? A fourteen-year-old, at that? No, surely not. Yet—Daniel had said it with absolute certainty, in a manner that made it hard for her to disbelieve him. Suppose he was telling the truth? Suppose he really thought that he was the true heir of Bathurst? It still would not explain why he wished to kidnap her—surely she could not find him the proof. Unless—unless Daniel wished to use her as bait to draw Nathaniel into a trap and secure the truth from him. It struck her as funny—all this time, the man she considered a mere footman, wa
s possibly, in fact, an earl!

  Almost immediately, though, guilt flared inside Diana. Had Lord Bathurst not been good to her? He had offered sincerely to improve her life. Yes, he could be hard and mysterious at times, but surely he was not as evil as Daniel thought him. He had been nothing but kind to her, had he not?

  But part of her recalled each instance of savagery Nathaniel had displayed. How he had once knocked a plate of food to the ground in anger that it had been too salty. How he had dueled and injured a man who had not properly wished him good morning. How his tenants dared not complain to him. How she herself had always felt afraid and awed in his presence.

  “You are lost in thought, my lady,” Daniel said. “Does being in the presence of an earl make you so shy?” His tone was mocking.

  “Oh shush,” Diana said. “You are wrong, you are surely wrong—yet from the way you talk, I cannot believe you are lying. What I think is that you are misguided. Perhaps this is simply a misunderstanding?”

  Daniel put his head back and laughed. “A sword to my neck is no misunderstanding, my lady. You could try your best and find no scope for misunderstandings there.”

  “But did Lord Bathurst deliver the blow to you personally? You said you were fourteen—do you remember it clearly? Perhaps you-”

  For the first time, she saw humor slipping away from his face. Daniel’s jaw set as he glared at her now. “My dear, I remember that night. My memory is as clear as the sky after the rains. There is no doubt who delivered that blow—even if a different man executed it.”

  “So it wasn’t Lord Bathurst after all!” Diana said, breathing in relief.

  “Do you love him so much?” Daniel asked. “Do you really care that his character is absolutely pure?”

  “How can you ask such a thing?” Diana replied. “He and I are to be married in two days. Of course I am devoted to him.”