The Scandalous Lord Lanchester. Anne Herries

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The Scandalous Lord Lanchester - Anne Herries Mills & Boon Historical

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having more sense and saw nothing until she heard an exclamation of alarm and then a pair of strong hands reached out and grabbed her arm.

      ‘Forgive me,’ an English voice said. ‘If you continue to walk in that direction, you may fall over the edge. There is a steep trail just beyond those trees and at one place there has been a recent fall of rock. It ought to be fenced off to save the unwary from accident.’

      ‘Oh … thank you,’ Mariah said and looked into the face of a man she could only describe as handsome in a dark, rather forbidding way. ‘Forgive me. I almost walked into you. My mind was wandering.’

      ‘I am glad to have been of service,’ he said and inclined his head to her. ‘My name is Peter Grainger—Lieutenant Grainger—and I have recently arrived in the district. My aunt and uncle have rented a villa at the other side of the lake and I was out on a walk when I discovered the fall. Are you staying near by, ma’am? Forgive me, I do not know your name.’

      ‘Mariah Fanshawe,’ she replied, a faint blush in her cheeks as she saw how intently he was staring at her. ‘I am staying with Lord and Lady Hubert—we are farther down the hill, nearer the lake. I walked up here to enjoy the view, but I am a little out of my way. Your warning was timely, sir.’

      The man tipped his hat to her. ‘It was nothing really. So, do you stay long, Miss Fanshawe?’

      ‘I am Lady Fanshawe and a widow,’ Mariah replied. Something in his manner made her slightly uncomfortable, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about him that aroused her suspicions. ‘We have not yet decided how long we shall stay.’

      ‘Forgive me, I did not realise.’ His eyes went over her, seeming to note that she was wearing a gown of white muslin trimmed with pink, her shoes white leather and her gloves white cotton, edged at the wrists with the same pink that trimmed her gown and was repeated in her stole. Regrettably she wore no hat, having ignored Sylvia’s advice to put one on before she left. ‘Perhaps we shall meet again, Lady Fanshawe.’ He tipped his hat and turned away.

      Mariah stared after him for a moment, biting her lip. She was so foolish. He had been perfectly respectable and she had offended him by her brusque tone. He could not have known she was entitled to the use of a title. Besides, she did not normally remind people of it. What was the matter with her? Did she think of herself as so worthless that every man must be a fortune hunter if they showed an interest?

      Turning in the direction of the Huberts’ villa, she walked quickly, blinking away the stupid tears. Was it too much to want to be loved for herself? What must a man do to convince her that he was uninterested in her late husband’s fortune?

      She had become suspicious of everyone and that was wrong. Wrong and foolish! Mariah must learn to trust again. If she wished to find happiness in marriage, she must give gentlemen the chance to win her trust rather than treating them all with the same level of suspicion.

      If only Andrew Lanchester had shown some interest in her. Mariah was almost sure she was in love with him. He was the kind of strong, silent man that appealed to her nature—the kind of man who might succeed in keeping her interest above a few weeks. With a little encouragement she could have given him her heart, her person and her fortune—but after seeming to approve of her, he had withdrawn again and she did not know why. He was a friend, but it seemed he had no warmer feelings for her.

      Shaking her head, she walked quickly towards the villa. There was no point on dwelling on the past. She had come to the conclusion that she needed a husband. If it was not to be Andrew Lanchester, then it must be someone else.

      Next time she met an attractive man she would smile and keep an open mind. If she continued to refuse all offers, she would end a lonely old maid.

      ‘Lanchester …’ Andrew heard himself hailed as he left the inn at which he had chosen to stay for a few days while visiting the lakes. He stopped and frowned as he sought for recognition, then smiled at the younger man. ‘What do you here, sir?’

      ‘I am visiting a friend,’ Andrew replied. ‘I had some business in Naples, which came to naught, and took a detour to visit a place of outstanding beauty. Are you here alone?’

      ‘No, with my aunt and uncle. I heard you had resigned your commission. I hope there is nothing amiss?’

      ‘Why do you ask?’ Andrew frowned, then recollected his manners. Lieutenant Grainger was not his enemy. They had been friends of a sort, though the younger man was his junior. ‘Yes, I decided that the time had come to settle down and look after my estate. I heard you might be up for promotion?’

      ‘It was on the cards, but I may also be leaving the service soon. My uncle suffered a severe illness some months ago and needs to spend more time in the sun. My aunt asked me to help them get settled out here—and, as they have no other heir, her husband wishes me to take up residence at their estate in England and assume the running of the place.’

      ‘Shall you oblige them?’

      ‘Yes, I think so. Where are you staying?’

      ‘Here at the inn.’

      ‘That won’t do, Lanchester. We have plenty of room at the villa. I know I speak for my aunt when I say we should be happy for you to join us. Come and have dinner with us this evening. If you should care for it, you could stay with us for a few days. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind your advice about a few things …’

      ‘I am unable to dine this evening,’ Andrew said. ‘But if I can be of any help I shall be delighted to give whatever advice or practical assistance I may.’

      ‘I am glad I ran into you, Lanchester. My aunt will be delighted to meet you. She is feeling a little lost, anxious about finding the right place. They have rented a villa, but may also need something in Milan. My understanding of the language is not as good as I would like.’

      ‘Then I may be able to help,’ Andrew said. ‘I shall come back with you now and we may talk …’

      Andrew was thoughtful as he matched his steps with the lieutenant’s. His meeting with Mariah that morning had been less promising than he’d hoped. It had been in his mind to tell her about his problem, because he was aware that at one time she might have been justified in believing he was considering making her an offer. If he told her that he could not think of marriage until he had cleared his name of this shadow of doubt, she might understand why he had let her down.

      Mariah was beautiful, intelligent and wealthy. How could he expect that a woman like that would be prepared to sit around twiddling her thumbs while he floundered about trying to discover an enemy—an enemy who might or might not be Lieutenant William Gordon? The answer was that of course he could not expect it. Mariah had made it clear that she wanted to marry soon.

      Even if he were free of the stain on his character, was she the woman he wanted above all others? At times he was so certain that his inability to speak almost choked him with frustration, but at others … at others he was not quite as sure. Mariah needed a husband—but would any man do? She’d married once for money and her husband had spoiled her. Would she expect to be indulged and given her own way again? Was that quite what Andrew wanted from a wife?

      Dismissing his confused thoughts, Andrew turned his attention to his companion. Peter Grainger was a fellow officer. It was just possible that he might know where William Gordon was to be found, though he must be careful how he put it. Until he was certain who was behind this business, he must make no accusations.

      

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