A Question of Impropriety. Michelle Styles
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‘Did your father take the disgrace well?’
‘My father died of lung fever, in the same epidemic that took Jayne. He never knew. When my brother’s letter arrived, my duty to return to Northumberland was clear.’ Even as she said the words, she knew they were a half-truth at best. Simon’s letter demanding her return had been a godsend, a chance to lick her wounds and to dedicate her life to being sensible and calm. It was wrong of her to think that their deaths had been providence, however much it felt that way. ‘I learnt my lesson the hard way, and have no regrets.’
‘No regrets.’ His eyes swept down her body, lingered on the neckline. ‘That is good. I had worried. Songbird would not have wanted it.’
She paused and smoothed out the lines of her green round grown. ‘Is there some other reason you called, Lord Coltonby? Surely it is not to reminisce over departed friends. I have turned my face towards the future. Life has been good to me.’
‘Your book, Miss Clare, as you did not call for it. I felt certain you had need of it now that you were safely home.’
‘My book.’ Diana stared at the volume and then back Lord Coltonby. ‘Of course, my book.’
She reached out to take it and their fingers touched. A small shock jolted her arm and she fumbled with the book, sending it tumbling towards the ground. Brett smoothly caught it and placed it gently on the small table.
‘I had expected you to send a note, as you held the advantage,’ he said into the silence.
‘I had no wish to trouble you or your servants with such a trifling matter,’ Diana breathed.
‘And here I thought you would want to see me again.’ His eyes became hooded. ‘We have unfinished business, you and I.’
‘We have no business.’ Diana cleared her throat, ready to send him on his way, before she asked him to stay. With every breath she took, that little reckless piece of her seemed to once again grow stronger. She had to slay it before it led her back down the road to ruin and scandal, a road she had blithely trod before. Her heart pounded in her ears.
‘I intend on teaching you to drive, Miss Clare. I have no wish to discover the roads cluttered with all manner of gigs and carriage simply because of your inattention.’
‘It will not happen again, I can assure you. In any case surely you will not remain in the neighbourhood for long. A few weeks at most.’
‘You know my schedule? Intriguing. Is this some party piece of yours? Or do you wish me ill?’
‘Sir Cuthbert always complained of being buried in the countryside,’ she said quickly to cover her faux pas. ‘He only spent a little time here each year.’
‘I am hardly Sir Cuthbert. His figure is far more rotund than mine. I do not think there is any danger of anyone mistaking us.’ Lord Coltonby smiled. Diana found it impossible not to answer his smile with one of her own. ‘I find the air very agreeable here.’
‘On that we hold the same opinion.’
‘Shall we be friends as well as neighbours? Put the past behind us?’
Diana drew in a breath. Friendship? Since when did a man like that seek friendship from a woman? ‘We are neighbours.’
‘And how shall we celebrate this neighbourliness? How shall we seal our friendship?’
Diana licked her suddenly parched lips. Sealed. The back of her neck prickled as a distant memory woke. Warned her. She held out her hand. ‘As a gentleman and a lady.’
He regarded her hand, and then his gaze lifted to her mouth, made it tingle under his gaze. A smile transformed his features. He reached out and touched her hand. Held it for a moment longer than strictly necessary. ‘A pleasure as always, Miss Clare.’
‘Welcome to Northumberland and the neighbourhood, Lord Coltonby,’ she said gravely, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of her heart, and withdrew her fingers.
‘I look forward to discovering everything Northumberland has to offer. To deepening our friendship.’
‘There are neighbours, and then there are friends.’
‘I trust we can be both.’
Diana adjusted the ribbons of her cap so it sat more squarely on her head. ‘My brother will be sorry he missed your visit.’
‘It gives me an excuse to come by another time.’ Lord Coltonby’s deep grey eyes met hers.
‘If you wish,’ Diana replied and made a mental note to add another rule—Lord Coltonby represented danger and was to be avoided. Her survival depended on it.
Chapter Three
‘Have you heard about the exciting development, Miss Clare?’ The tinkling tones of the Honourable Miss Miranda Bolt assaulted Diana’s ears as she left the circulating library the next morning.
Pride and Prejudice had been safely returned to the library, and Diana had no reason to even think about her new neighbour. Her well-ordered life would go on as before. She would be able to concentrate on things like needlework and visiting the houses of the colliery’s employees, tasks that today held about as much appeal as getting her teeth pulled. But good tasks, worthwhile ones.
‘What news? What has happened?’ Diana asked cautiously as she turned to greet the impeccably dressed Miranda Bolt. Already she could feel a distinct pain behind her eyes. ‘Is it anything untoward, Miss Bolt?’
‘Positively the most important thing that has happened in the district for the last century.’ Miss Bolt gave a toss of pale yellow curls. Her tiny mouth quivered with excitement. ‘My parents are to give a ball in honour of our new neighbour. I fainted when I heard the news. Mama had to call for the smelling salts. Papa has agreed to the ball.’
‘You mean the most important thing to happen to the district since the Napoleonic War.’
‘War is utter tedium and boredom.’ Miss Bolt gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. ‘The only good part is the number of men in uniform. Both Carlisle and Newcastle are full to the brim with soldiers. Lovely, lovely red coats and gleaming buttons. They add such colour to a party.’
‘We received our invitation yesterday.’ Diana forced her face to stay bland. Penning her regrets was a task for this afternoon. Simon might go if he liked, but she would find a reason to avoid the ball. She always did.
‘You and your darling brother must come. You missed the St Nicolas Day ball in Newcastle last Christmas and you must not miss this one.’ Miss Bolt gave a clap of her hands. ‘I knew if it was in the neighbourhood, all the eligible bachelors would come. I shall be quite in demand. I told Mama that. A woman who is in demand soon attracts the eye. It is only a matter of time before I make a brilliant match, one which is well suited to my station. Forgive me, Miss Clare, if you think me proud, but I only speak the truth.’