A Lady's Past

by A. S. Fenichel

  As he walked along the tall shelves of books, he admired her curves and how well the blue dress accentuated her slim waist. Since she stayed in place, he stopped when he was directly in front of her. “Last night you were tired and in a new place. You drank wine at dinner and perhaps this morning regretted your request.”

  Meeting his gaze, she licked her lips. “I do not regret any time I’ve spent with you. I only worry for your safety when you are near me.”

  Everything about her lured him in; her keen mind, pure, warm heart and her stunning beauty. But the way she cared about him and the people around her was the sweetest thing of all. He ran his knuckles along her jaw. Her skin was soft and warm to his touch as she leaned her cheek into the caress. “You shall have to accept that I am not going anywhere, and am capable of taking care of myself.”

  “I would think after being betrayed by that woman in France, you would prefer a less complicated life than one with me offers.”

  “One would think that, but it is not so.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers.

  A long sigh, then she stepped into his embrace, molding her body to his.

  From a woman who had no reason to trust, gaining hers left him breathless. The door to the study was ajar and anyone could walk in and see them. Still he ran his hand down her back to her waist and cupped her cheek with his other hand. He shook with need as he ran his tongue along the crease of her lips, begging entry.

  On a gasp, she opened to him and touched her tongue to his.

  Being struck by lightning could not have been more shocking. The kiss thrilled him from head to toe. The little sounds she made low in her throat were like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.

  He pressed small kisses to her cheek and jaw. “You may slap me and tell me to stop, Diana.”

  “I don’t want you to stop.” Her whisper shot another bolt through him and he pressed the evidence against her pelvis. Clutching at his shoulders, she let her head fall back, giving him access to that lovely neck.

  He kissed her throat where he’d often admired her swallowing down whatever she’d wanted to say. Where her shoulders connected, her skin was like fine-woven silk. The scent of roses drowned him like excellent wine on a winter night. “You are everything, my goddess of the moon.”

  “Be careful. You’ll put me up so high, you won’t be able to reach me.” Running her hand up his back, she smiled, then threaded her fingers through his hair.

  The black ribbon holding his hair in a queue fell to the floor. “I shall climb quite a ways if need be.”

  Her soft lips were honey, and he the bee unable to stay away. His blood burned too hot for an encounter in a public room. It took a force of will, but he pulled back. “I think it best if we hold these feelings for a more private moment, my sweet.”

  Lowering her gaze to the floor, she flushed the most delicious pink.

  Jacques kissed her forehead, then pressed his against hers. “Please do not be shy or embarrassed, Diana.”

  “Only at how wanton I have become. Nice ladies do not pant and kiss in the library or out of wedlock.” Her blush deepened.

  “Of course they do,” he said. “They just do not talk about it. Trust me, you are not in the minority, though you are extraordinary. Besides, there is no one to know but you and me, and I assure you all your secrets are safe in my care.”

  “I fear one day you will find out that I am just a simple girl who was put into strange circumstances. You will realize I’m nothing special.”

  How could she think such a ridiculous thing? He stayed close, not wanting her to run from him, but giving her enough space so as not to feel trapped. Skimming his fingers along her arm to her fingers, where he entwined his with hers, he reveled in the warm softness. “Most women of gentle birth would have withered under such trying events. It would have broken them. Yet you became stronger and smarter than your captors, allowing you to escape. A fact for which I am eternally grateful. Some nights I thank the snow for falling on that night I found you.”

  Tears set her eyes aglow. “Why the snow?”

  “If not for that unexpected snowstorm, I would not have held you in my arms that first night. I might never have learned how remarkable you are. Our story could have ended with me taking you to London and never seeing you again.” The possibility had kept him awake more than one night.

  “If that had happened, you would have a far less complicated life. I would never have attended that ball and might be safely hiding somewhere.”

  Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles before turning her hand over and pressing his lips to her palm. Her sigh was all he would ever need for happiness. “To hide you away from the world is a tragedy that we will soon remedy. I admit I am not happy about the possibility of using you to lure Caron, but I abhor you being trapped. It is time to set you free, moon goddess. If you could become this remarkable in captivity, I can only imagine what you will evolve into with freedom.”

  Her laugh was music. “You are too romantic by far. You do realize that?”

  “Of course.” He chuckled. “Still, everything I say is the truth.”

  “Only in your mind, Jacques.”

  He loved the way she looked at him as if he were as special as she. “I can only know my own truth. I leave the rest to men like Alexander Lynds. He seeks a greater truth, and I imagine it is a tiring life.”

  Drawing a full breath brought her breasts to the edge of her day dress. It was maddening to watch those lovely globes rise and fall and have to wait to feel them in his hands.

  She said, “He is a hard man to trust or understand.”

  “We need only endure this place for a short time. I hope to be out of here before Christmas Day.”

  Eyes wide, she said, “That’s only a week away. Don’t you think it a bit too optimistic?”

  “Perhaps, but a man can hope.” Happiness like he had never experienced before filled him from the inside. When she was safe, he would let her know what was in his heart.

  Honoria’s voice echoed down the halls as she called Diana’s name.

  Jacques backed away, regretting having to release her hand.

  Blushing, Diana called, “I’m in here, my lady.”

  The library doors swung open and Honoria breezed in. “We have an appointment to take a stroll with Mrs. Fallcraft in twenty minutes. I thought you might like to change into something warmer. But perhaps you are warm enough?”

  Honoria’s gaze and smirk fell on Jacques.

  He followed Diana down the stairs. “I am sure you will enjoy Mrs. Fallcraft. I have known her all my life, and have a great deal of respect for her. I will see you both at dinner.”

  Watching as the ladies left the library or study or whatever Alex wanted to call it, Jacques wished for many more hours spent in the stacks of books with Diana in his arms.

  Chapter 14

  Taking Honoria’s advice, Diana had bundled herself up in her warmest wool day dress, a sturdy pair of boots and a fur cape she borrowed from the castle. Cecilia had insisted that the fur would be necessary as the temperatures had dropped.

  Mrs. Fallcraft met them in a small, perfectly manicured garden at the other side of the castle. The shrubs were bare but made a low maze around an empty fountain. In the summer it would be a lovely place.

  “How do you do?” Mrs. Fallcraft was perhaps an inch taller than Honoria and half as wide.

  Diana couldn’t help the amusement she kept bottled up at the thought of all those large men on the other side of the castle being afraid of this tiny woman. “So nice to meet you, madam.”

  They all curtsied.

  Mrs. Fallcraft gave each of them a long look before smiling. “It is rare for the boys to bring anyone back to Buckrose. I have to admit, I’ve been curious to meet you both. It was very kind of you to send a note and call on me.”

  “
I could not resist meeting the lady who manages to keep all those grown men on their toes.” Honoria giggled. “You should hear how they speak of you.”

  Jessica Fallcraft had keen eyes the color of a stormy sea. Her gray hair had been pulled into a loose bun and tucked under a black cap with white lace at the edge. “Shall we walk?”

  A path through the garden had been cleared of snow. Larger cedars, surrounding the little haven, blocked the biting wind, making a stroll pleasant after she’d been tucked away in houses, carriages and castles. Diana took a deep gulp of crisp air. “Lady Chervil is correct, madam. The gentlemen are quite in awe of you.”

  Her eyes flashed with joy. “They were students or the children of students. I suppose to a young boy who has been tossed from other schools or bullied because he does not have the discipline for Eton, I am a welcome relief and a bit of a tyrant.”

  A child laughed somewhere on the other side of the trees. Diana wished she had listened to her mother and had married. By now she would have a few children filling her days with laughter. “Is that what this place is, a school for boys who had trouble elsewhere?”

  Turning to the right, Mrs. Fallcraft pulled her dark gray cloak tighter. “I take on young men who are bright and spirited. Let’s use Middleton as an example. Of course, I’m speaking of the late duke. Preston Knowles never had any problems at school. His father had been to three before being sent to me. He arrived with a valet and a note from the Duke of Middleton. I shall never forget that note: ‘My son is incorrigible and cannot be taught. You, madam, are our last hope to get some knowledge into him. My wife can bear no more children, so he is the next duke of Middleton regardless of my wishes.’”

  It was a horrible notion to imagine a father writing such a thing about his own son. Diana wished the old duke was still alive, so she could give him a proper dressing down. “What on earth did you do?”

  Mrs. Fallcraft grinned and shrugged. “I brought the young lord into Buckrose without a word about his other schools. I see no sense in berating a boy for his past. When they come to my school, they get a fresh start. They are told the rules, which are quite strict, and given a lot of time between studies to run around and burn off excess energy. Their days are scheduled to the minute, and by the end of one, they are tired enough to sleep. I am proud to say I have lost very few of my Buckrose students.”

  “I don’t mean to be rude, but does a curriculum filled with running about compare to an education at Eton?” Diana should have kept the question to herself, but she wanted to know.

  Never missing a step, Mrs. Fallcraft navigated them around the fountain. “When a young man leaves here, they are ready for the world. Most continue to university. It is a long day, keeping my boys busy from breakfast to supper. After supper we usually have time for reading, and often one of the older students will read aloud.”

  Honoria said, “You must be very proud of this school and all you have done.”

  “I have to admit, I am pleased that I could help and continue to help young boys become good men, many of whom run our government.”

  “How much longer will you continue?” Honoria was of an age where she said what she thought, regardless of its appropriateness for a first meeting.

  Mrs. Fallcraft was undaunted. “I am getting on in years. Like Middleton, many of my students have gone to their final resting place, and I am still here.” She pulled a long sigh. “I don’t have anyone to follow in my footsteps as yet, but I have hopes that one of my Horsemen might like to take on the challenge after he’s finished hopping about the world for the greater good.”

  It was impossible to imagine any of the four men Diana had met being tame enough to run the Buckrose School, but Mrs. Fallcraft was in earnest. “I’m not certain any of the Horsemen are of a temperament to teach.”

  Raising her eyebrows, Mrs. Fallcraft gave a wicked grin. “You would be surprised at the many sides of the Horsemen.”

  “I mean no disrespect. They are the reason I am here and not tucked away on some French ship.”

  They approached the back side of the castle. “Will you ladies join me for some tea in my private parlor?”

  The temperature had dropped several degrees since they began their walk. Clouds made their way across the sky and the bite in the air spoke of snow. Diana shivered. “That would be very nice. Thank you.”

  Inside, the school portion of the castle was buzzing with students who were curious about them. It appeared Buckrose School did not get a lot of visitors and perhaps never ladies. Several boys tripped over each other when they caught sight of Diana.

  Mrs. Fallcraft frowned. “That will do, Mr. Crane, Mr. Wallace. Don’t you two have somewhere to be?”

  One of the wide-eyed boys, perhaps sixteen, stopped staring long enough to respond. “History class, ma’am.”

  “You had better stop loitering and get on, then. We do not wish our guests to think you lax in your studies.” How she managed not to grin or laugh was a mystery.

  Crane and Wallace bowed, and all arms and legs, ran down the hall with their black coats flapping behind them.

  Diana hid a giggle behind her hand. “They are quite curious.”

  “We do not get many female visitors here, Miss MacLeod. Please accept my apologies for the boys.” Mrs. Fallcraft opened the door to her left and they stepped into a room that might have been transported from a fairy tale.

  Where the hallway had been stone, this room had been covered in a light blue damask wallpaper with an elegant rose pattern. It was feminine, but not so much that a man would be uncomfortable in the room. The sturdy overstuffed furniture would bring comfort to any soul needing a soft place to rest, and the light scent of fruity tobacco reminded Diana of Lord Rupert Everton and the way Everton House had given her comfort. Large windows overlooked the garden they’d just left, and books lined one wall. A small writing desk sat in the corner, but the bulk of the room was taken up by a pianoforte and seating for conversation. Diana waved off the apology. “This is lovely.”

  “My sanctuary away from boys and men. Once a week, I invite two or three of the students to have tea with me. It’s become a tradition and strangely, they all covet the invitation. The rest of the time, I can come in here to write letters, play the pianoforte, and relax before bed, and the sound of rambunctious boys is left outside.” She settled into a large chair as if it were a throne.

  Diana and Honoria sat adjacent to her on a deep couch. Diana toyed with a gold fringe at the edge of the dark blue fabric. “I imagine a small refuge is needed with so much energy around you all the time.”

  Honoria clapped her hands and laughed. “If it were me, I would never leave this room. I can’t imagine how you run such a large school on your own.”

  A maid arrived with tea and Diana wondered how she had known to bring it. They had not seen Mrs. Fallcraft call for refreshments. The woman was fascinating.

  “I have help from five teachers employed by the school. Occasionally, I ask a former student to help, depending on the problems that arise. I have been raising and teaching boys for so many years, it is all I know.” She poured the tea and handed each of them a cup and saucer.

  The tea service was all white without painted flowers or vines. It was perfectly practical for a lady who ran a boarding school, and the rich tea warmed Diana’s insides. “May I ask you something that is none of my business, madam?”

  “Are you in love with one of the Horsemen?” Excitement flashed in Mrs. Fallcraft’s eyes.

  Honoria laughed. “I think I could fall in love with all four of them.”

  Trying to give Honoria a scathing look, Diana was so amused, it probably looked more comical than scolding. “No. Not a Horseman. I was wondering what you would be willing to divulge about Mr. Laurent.”

  The fire eased from Mrs. Fallcraft’s eyes, but her smile remained. “I see. Well, Jacques was never a student here. He di
d visit each summer with his parents when they were in England. He was a lighthearted youth who thought his father the beginning and the end of all things. He and Middleton have been friends since birth, as their fathers met here at Buckrose. I have only seen him a handful of times as an adult, but whenever he is in this area, he makes a point to visit. I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want to know.”

  Diana put her tea down. “I’m not sure myself. I suppose I need to know if he’s a good man or just charming. He wants to help me, but perhaps he just has some need to assign himself to a lost cause.”

  Tapping the edge of her teacup with her index finger, Mrs. Fallcraft watched Diana over the cup’s rim. “I would not wish to gossip, but I can see you are in earnest, Miss MacLeod. Jacques’s adoration for the women in his life nearly landed his head in a basket in front of the Bastille. He is not given to random affairs, as far as I am aware. I have never heard of any untoward news or behavior about him. He is charming, that is true. He has a way of making everyone in the room more comfortable, but I believe he is genuine in his desire to help those around him. And he does like to find a lost cause and repair the damage. It is why he and Middleton have gotten on so well; they are so different.”

  “I don’t understand.” Diana had not noticed a large difference between the two friends. Middleton was a duke, so naturally he had a higher sense of importance. Though for a man of power, Middleton was fairly humble.

  “Preston Knowles is as serious a man as I have ever known. He has a set idea of how things should be. If he sees something wrong, he fixes it, with authority. He would not know how to have fun were it not for his friendship with Jacques Laurent. And for his part, Jacques would not have such a deep need to right every wrong. I cannot tell you if Jacques is in love with you, but he is a man of honor.”

  “I didn’t mean to question his honor. Forgive me. I suppose I am afraid of being hurt.” Diana picked her tea up off the table and sipped, using the china as a shield.

  Mrs. Fallcraft nodded. “I understand, my dear, but love is always a risk.”