Читать книгу The Scandalous Lord Lanchester - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 8

‘That rose silk becomes you so well, dearest,’ Sylvia said as they prepared to go down and welcome their guests that evening. ‘I am so glad that you have decided to wear colours again.’

‘As you have told me many times, Winston would not wish me to mourn him for ever,’ Mariah said and smiled at her. Sylvia was a pretty, diminutive lady with a charming smile and good manners, and sincere in her affections. ‘I have decided to put the past behind me, Sylvia. I shall cease to look at every gentleman I meet with suspicion and enjoy being courted. I do not wish to live alone for the rest of my life and I cannot always be in the company of friends. It is my intention to marry soon.’

‘As to that, you know you are welcome to live with us, Mariah.’

‘You are so generous. Andrew told me that Lucinda has said much the same. She wants me to consider returning to Avonlea when I’ve had enough of Italy—though how anyone could ever be tired of such a glorious place I do not know.’

‘I do so agree with you,’ Sylvia said, looking fondly at her. ‘If Hubert had no estates to worry him I should prevail on him to stay for another six months at the very least. However, two months more is as long as he can spare and so we shall have to leave in a few weeks so that the journey home is achieved in easy stages.’

‘Yes, I know. Besides, there are pleasures to be had at home,’ Mariah said. ‘Winston has a beautiful country house. I have no desire to live there and shall probably let it to tenants, but they must of course be the right tenants. I think I would prefer to live in London with visits to Bath, Avonlea—and, of course, Italy, whenever I can prevail on someone to bear me company.’

‘I would not turn down the chance another year. We could always travel with friends if Hubert could not find the time to accompany us,’ Sylvia said. ‘But you may be married by then, dearest. Your husband will wish to travel with you no doubt.’

‘Perhaps …’ Mariah looked wistful. ‘Andrew kindly offered to vet my suitors for me. I think I shall accept his help. I have made up my mind that I would be more comfortable married to a decent man. I wanted to fall in love—but perhaps I should settle for a comfortable arrangement.’

‘Would you not regret it?’ Sylvia raised her brows. ‘Surely you are young enough to hope for a little romance in your marriage this time?’

‘I think Winston was the most romantic man I’ve ever met,’ Mariah said and laughed as she saw her friend’s surprise. ‘No, truly he was. Everyone saw the age difference between us and believed the worst—but he was so gallant and so loving to me. He kissed my hand every morning. Every night I found either a rose or a flower of some kind on my pillow. Even when he was ill he had the gardener bring in a perfect bloom to place in my room for him.’

Sylvia blinked hard. ‘You bring tears to my eyes, my love. Of course I knew that Winston adored you but I did not realise that he was such a sweet man. It is little wonder that you hesitate to marry for a second time. I do not think it will be easy to find a man like Winston again.’

‘No, I think I shall not,’ Mariah agreed. ‘But perhaps I should seek someone rather different this time. I was utterly spoiled in my first marriage, but I am older and wiser now. It is time for me to grow up, to move on.’

‘I do not think you could do better than Lord Lanchester himself,’ Sylvia said. ‘He is handsome, respected and has no need of your fortune—besides, I think he likes you, my love.’

‘Yes, I think he likes me,’ Mariah agreed and sighed. She might never find such devotion as she had from Winston again, but she was so tired of being a widow. ‘However, Lord Lanchester shows no sign of making me an offer. I did think at one time—but he did not speak and I think I lost my chance. Something must have made him decide that I was not the wife he wanted, though he is still concerned for my safety and well-being.’

‘Perhaps the right moment has not yet presented itself,’ Sylvia suggested. ‘Be patient, Mariah. He may speak when he is ready.’

‘I fear patience is not my best virtue.’ Mariah laughed at herself, for she knew her own faults. ‘Once I make up my mind to something, I must act—and I have decided that I need a husband, or the promise of one, before we return to England.’

‘Think carefully, my love,’ her friend advised. ‘If you marry in haste, you may regret it.’

‘I have been a widow for nearly two years,’ Mariah said. ‘I have thought of contenting myself with affairs, but I think it would suit me better to be married.’

Seeing she had shocked her friend, Mariah laughed again and took her arm.

‘No, really, dearest, it would not be so very terrible, would it?’

‘Well … if one were discreet.’ Sylvia shook her head. ‘You have been married … I know you are teasing me—but Hubert would be most shocked if he heard you. You might lose all chance of a decent marriage, my dear.’

‘Yes, I dare say,’ Mariah said, slightly impatient, for she thought her friend’s husband a little pompous at times. ‘But I am so tired of sleeping alone… . I want to be courted for myself, loved.’

What would Sylvia think if she knew that her marriage had remained unconsummated? That she was, in fact, still a virgin? It was something she could never tell anyone, even her best friends.

A little later that evening Mariah stood by the open windows of the salon looking out at the night. The sky was velvet dark with only a faint light from the moon, which was half-hidden by clouds, but the air was much cooler after the heat of the day. She was tempted to walk in the gardens, but if she did, someone was sure to follow—and she could not be sure the right man would join her.

‘Mariah, my dear, I want you to meet some friends of Hubert’s,’ Sylvia said, causing her to turn round and look at the newcomers. With a little shock she recognised the man who had saved her from a fall earlier that day. ‘This is Sir Harold Jenkins, Lady Jenkins—and their nephew, Lieutenant Grainger.’

‘What a surprise to see you again, Lieutenant,’ Mariah said, extending her hand with a smile. ‘Good evening, Sir Harold, Lady Jenkins, I am pleased to meet you.’

‘Good evening, Lady Fanshawe,’ Lieutenant Grainger replied and kissed her hand, looking into her eyes with such warmth a moment later that Mariah was surprised. ‘I am so pleased to meet you again.’

‘You met earlier? You did not tell us,’ Lady Jenkins said archly, throwing her nephew a fond look.

‘I met Lady Fanshawe walking towards the spot where a rock fall had taken place and was able to warn her that it was dangerous to go farther in that direction. I have since spoken to the authorities and they assured me a fence would be put in place immediately.’

‘Ah, that is just like you, Peter,’ Lady Jenkins said and looked directly at Mariah. ‘My nephew is such a correct young man, Lady Fanshawe. Many would simply ignore something of that nature—but Peter always thinks of others.’

‘You are too partial, Aunt.’ Peter Grainger looked slightly embarrassed. ‘You must forgive her, Lady Fanshawe. I assure you that I did only what anyone would have done in the circumstances.’

‘I am sure that many would not,’ Mariah said. ‘Tell me, sir—how do you like Lake Como? Do you prefer it to Lake Garda?’

‘I think all the lakes have their merits—but I believe the situation of Como makes it most agreeable to those who prefer a little more tranquillity. There are more visitors—or it seems there are more at Garda.’

‘Yes, that was my feeling also,’ Mariah said, warming to him. He seemed a sensible man. She had no doubt that his aunt was aware of her fortune, but Lieutenant Grainger did not seem overly anxious to impress her. Indeed, he had taken himself off at once after she’d revealed her status to him earlier that day and she was inclined to think he was in no particular need of her fortune. ‘I think we have time for a turn in the garden before dinner, sir. Would you care to oblige me?’

He looked a little startled, as if her boldness had surprised him, but immediately offered his arm. ‘A little air on the terrace would be perfect. I believe Count Paolo’s gardens are reputed to be very fine?’

‘Yes, indeed they are. We are fortunate that he allows us to stay here.’

Andrew watched with narrowed eyes as the pair disappeared out through the open doors onto the terrace. They stood talking in full view of the room so there was nothing particularly clandestine or intimate about their behaviour, but he found the sight oddly disturbing. Mariah had promised to take his advice in the matter of a husband; he did not think that Grainger was wholly suitable, but, as yet, he had not managed to think of anyone he could recommend to her wholeheartedly.

Watching her, he was aware of how lovely she was, the perfection of her figure and the enchanting way she held her head to one side when she teased or laughed at one. She was, he thought, a beautiful, sensual woman and his pulses quickened at the sight of her looking up at her companion. Something must be done. She was too vulnerable to unscrupulous rogues, though he had no real reason to think of Grainger as a rogue.

‘Are you well acquainted with Lieutenant Grainger?’ his host asked. ‘Lady Fanshawe seems on good terms with him. She looks happier than she has for a while.’

‘I was not aware that she knew him,’ Andrew said. ‘I had not seen him for years, though I remember that his regiment joined ours in Spain. He was a new recruit then …’ He turned to look at Lord Hubert. ‘Do you know him at all?’

‘We have met once or twice. I am not well acquainted with him.’

‘I am in similar case myself, though we had mutual friends in Spain.’

‘I know his aunt and uncle,’ Lord Hubert continued. ‘Very good sort of people. Sylvia likes them—and I usually like my wife’s friends. I dare say we shall see quite a bit of them while we are here. If Grainger and Mariah were to take to one another, it would be the very thing.’

Andrew scarcely heard him. He had found the younger man pleasant enough company earlier in the day, but now his hackles rose as he went out of the open doors and heard Mariah laugh. It seemed an age since he’d heard her laugh in just that way—and, looking at her standing there in the moonlight with the young lieutenant, he was struck once more by her beauty. She was a fine, spirited woman, perhaps a little reckless at times. Her restless nature would lead her astray without a strong hand to guide her.

Mariah became aware of Andrew as he reached them. She turned her head, a smile on her lips. ‘Andrew, how are you? Lieutenant Grainger was telling me about a visit that the Regent paid to his regiment, when they were stationed in Brighton.’

‘Indeed?’ Andrew looked down his patrician nose. ‘Prinny enjoys playing soldiers. I dare say you made him an honorary colonel or something of the kind, did you not?’

Lieutenant Grainger stared at him doubtfully. ‘I believe he is our Colonel in Chief. He seems knowledgeable enough.’

‘In his way, perhaps,’ Andrew said. ‘I have been meaning to ask you, Grainger. Would you happen to know the whereabouts of Lieutenant William Gordon?’

‘Forgive me. I’m not perfectly certain whom you mean?’ The younger man seemed hesitant, a little uneasy, then, ‘There was a lieutenant of that name with us in Spain, I believe, but I thought he resigned his commission after being reprimanded a few times … but why you should think I might know him is beyond me. I was not acquainted with him.’

‘Then you will have no idea where he is now? I was hoping to find him in Naples, but it came to nothing. For the time being, I must continue my search.’ He glanced towards the room behind them, which was now brightly lit. ‘I think Lady Hubert is looking for us, Mariah. I dare say dinner is ready—and she may wish to close these doors. The insects will invade the house now that the candles have been lit.’

‘Yes, we must go in,’ Mariah said and arched her right eyebrow at Andrew. ‘I believe you are to sit on my right hand this evening, Lord Lanchester.’

Lieutenant Grainger had gone in just ahead of them. Mariah grabbed Andrew’s arm, lowering her voice to a whisper.

‘Why did Lieutenant Grainger look at you so oddly when you mentioned that officer—Lieutenant Gordon?’

‘I have no idea,’ Andrew replied. ‘I should not have mentioned Gordon in his hearing had I known it would upset him.’

‘There is a mystery. I know it.’ Mariah’s eyes mocked him. His secrecy had set her on her mettle for he knew that she liked a challenge. ‘I shall get it out of you, Andrew—just see if I don’t.’

He smiled and shook his head. She had seemed low in spirits that morning, but now she was the old Mariah. At times she aroused his protective instincts and he was inclined to throw caution to the winds and snap her up as his wife before someone else did, but then, when she was in a teasing mood, he wondered if they would not be at each other’s throats in a fortnight. As a girl she had been very provoking, a nuisance, following a fellow about and wanting attention when he had better things to do. Mind you, when he thought of it, she had always been ready to go fishing or to play the fielder in ball games. A boisterous, bold girl whose reckless behaviour had landed them all in trouble more than once, for what was a chap to do but take the blame when Farmer Johnson’s bull had got in amongst the young heifers when Mariah left the gate open.

He could not contemplate the idea of her married to a rascal, but marriage was a big commitment. Andrew knew that once he made it he would not stray; it would be a union for life and he must therefore be sure of his feelings before making an offer to any woman.

Besides, there was still the faint cloud of suspicion hanging over him. Unless he could prove his innocence to his commanding officer, he might be formally charged with the theft. Someone had taken the silver while he was the duty officer in charge of such things. He had not been expected to actually guard the valuable treasures, which lived in a locked cabinet in a locked room, but that it should happen on his watch was bad enough. The letter pointing the finger at him was an added complication and one that had given him many uneasy moments.

Major Henderson had suggested that his enemy might be Lieutenant Gordon, but there was no proof that he had even been in England at the time. Besides, why wait all this time to strike against Andrew? It did not make sense to his way of thinking.

‘Something is worrying you,’ Mariah said as they entered the dining room. ‘Won’t you tell me, Andrew? I promise not to plague you if it is important. I am not an unruly girl now. I can be sensible, you know.’

‘Yes, of course you can,’ he said, wrenching his thoughts away from his problem. He caught the smell of her soft perfume and felt desire stir in his loins. In that moment he wanted her badly. She was a beautiful woman and intriguing. If he could simply bed her and make her his mistress there would be no problem as far as she was concerned, but that was impossible. She was a lady and deserved his respect. ‘I think you like Lieutenant Grainger. I have no reason to think him other than he seems—but be careful, Mariah. For your own sake, trust only those you truly know.’

‘Very well.’ Mariah looked into his eyes. ‘I have reason to be grateful to him—he prevented me from coming upon a rock fall earlier today and warned me to change direction. However, I am sure that caution is best. You shall advise me.’

Alone in her room later that evening, Mariah let her various conversations with Andrew drift through her mind as she prepared for bed. He had talked animatedly of their friends at home and of the beautiful scenery. Of Lieutenant Grainger he had not spoken one word after his warning to her.

She puzzled over his reticence. Lieutenant Grainger had seemed embarrassed when a certain officer had been mentioned. Why had Andrew introduced the subject of the other officer and why should it make the younger man uncomfortable?

Andrew had followed them outside deliberately. Why had he done that? Was it to protect her from a man he was not certain of or … surely he could not be jealous because Mariah had been enjoying his company?

What had brought Andrew to Italy—and what was bothering him? She was certain that he was very worried about something, but did not know what it might be. Could he possibly have financial troubles? Was that why he had come—to ask her to marry him, because he needed money?

The thought made her blood run cold. No, she would not allow herself to think ill of him. He was her friend. He had promised to help her find a suitable husband. She had given him a list of her requirements in a husband and stressed that she did not wish to marry a fortune hunter.

If he wanted her for himself, he would surely give her a sign. Even if she acquitted him of wanting her fortune, which she had immediately, she had to admit that he showed no sign of being madly in love with her. A little voice in her head told her that Andrew might well make a convenient marriage with a suitable lady for the sake of an heir. Many gentlemen in his position did so. Would he consider her suitable—or would he think her too flighty, not serious enough?

Or was there another reason entirely for his reticence? Was Andrew hiding something he did not wish even his friends to know?

Mariah sighed as she slid between cool linen sheets and settled into a soft feather mattress. She loved uncovering secrets and a mystery to solve was a pleasant way to spend her days—and it would stop her wondering why Andrew had not come to the point. Sometimes he looked at her as if he might gobble her up, as if he wanted nothing more than to get her into his bed, but at others he was polite, cool and reserved.

Just what had she done that had made him hesitate? Perhaps it was because she’d shot the man who had been trying to kill Lucinda. Being a crack shot and keeping a cool head in a crisis were perhaps not the most feminine of traits. Men often wanted a sweet docile woman they could protect and dominate. Mariah was too spirited, too bold. Andrew had been attentive to her when she was recovering from her ordeal at the hands of kidnappers, but then, quite suddenly, he had drawn back. She must have done something to make him think her unsuitable—but what?

Thumping her pillow in sudden pique, Mariah felt both frustration and disappointment. She was almost certain that Andrew was the only man she could truly love and she longed to be taken in his arms and kissed until she melted for pleasure, but all he offered was friendship. She might have taken a dozen lovers had she wished or accepted as many offers of marriage. Why must she want the only man who seemed utterly indifferent to her charms? ‘You provoking man,’ Mariah muttered, blew out the candle and closed her eyes.

Mariah was not the only one to lie sleepless for some time after extinguishing the light. Andrew frowned as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, his head filled with thoughts of Mariah. He knew that she was tired of being a widow. He had over the years seen her flirt many times. She was entitled to flirt with as many admirers as she pleased. Rich, unattached and as intelligent as she was beautiful, he imagined she was pursued wherever she went. The mystery was that she remained single. She must have had many offers of marriage and many others of a more dubious nature. As far as he knew she remained aloof—why? What kept her from indulging in love affairs? Was she still faithful to her husband’s memory?

She was too young and lovely to remain a widow all her life and he knew it was not her intention. She had asked his advice because she wished for a husband who would treat her as she deserved. In his heart Andrew knew that if he did not speak soon he would lose her.

Yet how could he speak when he did not know who his enemy was? Thus far he had been accused of theft, but Harrison had done nothing. If someone felt bitter hatred for Andrew, they were hardly likely to stop there. His very life might be in danger. It would be wrong to involve a lovely young woman in his life at the moment—however much he wanted to kiss and touch her.

He had experienced jealousy on seeing her laughing with Grainger that evening. Was he a fool to hold his silence? She was beautiful, well connected and charming—what more could he want from a wife?

Remembering how soft and moist her lips had looked, he felt an urgent desire to feel them beneath his, to crush her soft body to his and … This was ridiculous!

Groaning at his frustrated thoughts, Andrew threw back the covers and got out of bed, going to the window to look out. He had accepted Lady Jenkins’s invitation and removed his baggage here earlier in the day, though in view of his feelings that evening he was beginning to regret the decision. The inn might not be as comfortable as this room, but he had been well enough.

The moon was high overhead, shedding a bright silver light over the gardens. Something caught his eye in the shrubbery—a flash of white. A man’s shirt, perhaps? Whoever it was seemed to be hiding … watching the house. Was there someone out there skulking in the bushes?

If some rogue was hoping to break in and steal valuables, he was going to be in for a shock. His instincts alerted to danger, Andrew dressed quickly. This needed investigation.

He left through a window at the back of the villa and made his way round to the front gardens, keeping close to the wall and in deep shadow. He was alert, his finger on the trigger of his concealed pistol, but even after his years of training in the army, he was not aware of the man behind him until the last moment. Someone lunged at him as he turned and grabbed for his arm. They struggled for a few moments and Andrew’s pistol fired into the air. The next moment he heard a shout from the house and the door opened.

‘Andrew—are you out there?’

Hearing Grainger’s voice, the assailant suddenly shoved Andrew backwards, causing him to stumble and fall. Before he was on his feet again the shadow had run off, disappearing into the darkness. Andrew fired another shot in the direction he’d gone, hoping to scare him. He heard a faint curse and then nothing more.

‘I’m over here, Grainger,’ he called. ‘There was someone lurking in the bushes. I came out to investigate and we fought. My pistol went off—unfortunately, it was pointing in the air and not at him. I may have winged him with the second shot, though.’

Grainger was dressed in breeches and shirt and had clearly not been to bed. He had a pistol in his hand as he came to join Andrew.

‘It may be just as well,’ he said. ‘If you’d killed him, we should have had trouble with the authorities. Did you catch a sight of his face? Could you identify him?’

‘No, I caught a glimpse of him, nothing more. He was acting in a furtive manner and I feared someone might be trying to break in and rob us while we slept.’

‘You were not sleeping?’

‘No. I had something on my mind.’

‘Does it concern Lieutenant Gordon?’

‘It might. Why do you ask?’

Grainger hesitated, then, ‘I wasn’t quite truthful earlier. At one time I was on terms with him, but then I realised that he was a rogue—and a thief. I caught him stealing from a fellow officer’s kit.’

‘You did not report him?’

‘No …’ Grainger looked uncomfortable. ‘I ought to have done so—but he was supposed to be courting a young lady I know. She is my cousin on my father’s side. Gordon had asked her to marry him and she had promised she would when she was eighteen. If I’d accused him of being a thief, it would have broken Thelma’s heart.’

‘She must have suffered when he left the army and disappeared?’

‘Yes, she went into a decline. For a time we thought she might die, but thankfully, she is recovering at last. My aunt told me she is thinking of marriage to a decent man this time.’

‘I am glad to hear it. So, you have no idea where Gordon is now then?’

‘If I had, I should find him and thrash him.’ Grainger frowned, but his eyes did not quite meet Andrew’s. He had a feeling that he had not been told the whole story. ‘Did you come out here to find him? Is that why you are here?’

‘It was one of my reasons for coming out.’

‘The other … Forgive me, was the other reason Lady Fanshawe?’

‘Why do you ask?’

Grainger shook his head. ‘She is beautiful, but I hardly know her. I dare say she would not look at me.’

Andrew would have answered him, but at that moment Lady Jenkins called to them from the house.

‘The shots must have wakened your aunt. Go and reassure her, Grainger. I shall take another walk about the grounds, make certain there is no one lurking. We shall continue our conversation another time.’

Andrew frowned as Grainger went off to soothe his aunt’s fears. It was clear to him that the young officer liked Mariah. As yet it was no more than that, but it might become more in time. As far as Andrew knew, Grainger would be a good match for her. His background was adequate and he had prospects. He did not have to marry money because his aunt and uncle were very wealthy and had already named him as their heir. Mariah could do worse than marry Grainger.

‘A picnic,’ Sylvia said the next morning when Mariah entered the salon. ‘Lady Jenkins has invited us for tomorrow afternoon. She has arranged it on the lake shore and there will be boats to take us out on the lake should we wish it.’

‘That sounds pleasant,’ Mariah said. ‘I believe I should like to go out on the lake. It is cooler and the weather has been very warm of late.’

‘Yes, it has …’ Sylvia looked at her, noticing faint shadows beneath her eyes. ‘Has it been keeping you awake? If so, I can arrange for a net over your bed so that you may have the window open.’

‘No, I do not think the heat kept me awake,’ Mariah told her. ‘I slept later, but I must admit I was restless for a time.’

‘Were you thinking of Lord Lanchester?’

‘Yes, for a while.’ Mariah laughed. ‘Is it not foolish of me? I do not think he has any intention of asking me to marry him, therefore I must look elsewhere if I am to find a husband before we leave Italy.’

‘You are not serious in your intention?’

‘Why not? I may have met a gentleman I rather like.’

Sylvia questioned her with her eyes. In her early thirties, she was a pretty woman, good-natured and much loved by her doting husband. The fact that she had not as yet given him an heir seemed not to bother him one bit, though Mariah suspected it was a source of some distress to her friend.

‘I must suppose you to mean Lieutenant Grainger? He certainly has prospects, Mariah—if you care about such things.’

‘Money is immaterial. I have far more than I need.’

‘Can one ever have too much?’ Sylvia asked and laughed.

‘No, but I have enough. I want something more from my marriage—excitement, laughter, respect and children.’

Sylvia frowned. ‘And love? You say nothing of it, but I suspect it means more to you than you will admit? Did the lieutenant give you reason to hope?’

‘He was polite, friendly, but not overly attentive. I think his aunt would like him to make a push for my notice. She knows of my fortune and thinks me an excellent catch for her nephew, but he is more circumspect in his approach. He has given me no sign as yet. I do not think him a fortune hunter—which counts in his favour.’

Sylvia shook her head as she saw the speculative look in Mariah’s eyes. ‘I believe you are serious. You will really accept a proposal of marriage from him if he asks?’

‘I might,’ Mariah replied innocently, then gurgled with laughter. ‘Or I might decide that an affair would suit me better. I am not sure whether he would suit me as a lover …’ She tipped her head to one side, a sparkle in her eyes. ‘It would be exciting to have an affair, do you not think so?’

‘Now I know you are misbehaving,’ her friend said with a shake of her head. ‘You do so love to tease, dearest. I know you too well to believe you serious, but others might not. Be a little careful, Mariah. I should not like to see you hurt.’

‘As yet I have met no one who is anxious to engage me in a clandestine affair,’ Maria admitted ruefully. ‘Most seem interested in getting a ring on my finger for the sake of controlling Winston’s fortune.’

‘Well, your unpleasant experience has given you a terrible shock,’ Sylvia sympathised, ‘but you must not think everyone the same. If you were to receive a proposal from someone you could like sufficiently, it might be the best thing for you. After all, business is a chore—why not leave it to a man you may trust? He would, of course, secure a generous settlement on you.’

‘Yes, I believe marriage might suit me best,’ Mariah conceded and turned away for fear her friend should see too much.

It was time she lost her virginity. Mariah had made up her mind that she would either marry or take a lover. Sylvia had been shocked, but many married ladies had clandestine affairs—why shouldn’t she? At least she would not wake up one day to discover that her husband cared nothing for her and had run through her fortune at the card table.

That would be humiliating and something that she did not think she could accept. Rather an affair with a man who admired and excited her that she could end when she chose than marriage with a man who wanted only her money. Yet she was tired of living alone. She could not always be in the company of friends and there were many lonely hours, often in the dark reaches of the night when she could not sleep and longed for someone she could talk to as a friend.

Andrew Lanchester would never treat her so badly. Were he to offer for her she would marry him, even if he was not madly in love with her. He would be honest, generous and considerate. All the qualities she needed. The provoking man! Why could he not oblige her?

What she truly needed was for Andrew to care for her. She might think of marrying others in an idle moment, but in her heart there was only one she wanted.

Why would he not tell her he cared and ask her to marry him?