Читать книгу A Most Unsuitable Bride - Gail Whitiker, Gail Whitiker - Страница 8

D iana did not think it folly to ride in the park the next morning. Why would she, when she had absolutely no expectation of seeing Lord Garthdale again? Her aunt had already told her that he wasn’t given to encouraging single ladies, so for him to turn up strictly for the purposes of an assignation would have been entirely out of character for him. Diana was also sure that her declaration not to see him again had been firm enough to convince him of her earnestness. As such, it was with little concern that she set off for the leafy lanes of Hyde Park just before half past seven the next morning.

Regrettably, her sore throat hadn’t improved. She had gargled with salt water before leaving the house, but it had done nothing to help, and her voice was once again the husky croak it had been yesterday. She also wore the heavy veil in front of her face to conceal her features from those who might recognise her. Though it wasn’t her intent to go looking for trouble, Diana knew it was quite possible she might encounter Lord Durling in the park. He used to like riding in the early hours of the day, and the last thing she wanted was to meet him here, with only the company of her groom for protection.

It was just one more of the fears she had harboured about returning to London.

Still, Diana had to admit that her first day in London had been a delightful surprise. Their visit to Madame Claremont had resulted not only in the ordering of new gowns and fripperies for Mrs Mitchell and Phoebe, but of several new ensembles for herself. Diana had been astonished at the wondrous array of fabrics presented to her, and startled by the degree to which fashion had changed. The cut of a sleeve, the fullness of a skirt, even the height of the waistline had rendered her existing wardrobe démodé.

Her aunt had been right in saying that she would indeed have looked a poor country cousin had she ventured forth so attired!

After that, they had seen to the ordering of new cards, paid the promised visit to the jewellers, and then returned home to spend a quiet afternoon occupied with individual pursuits. As a result, it wasn’t until after Phoebe had gone to bed that Diana had learned anything more about the intriguing Lord Garthdale—and why her aunt had not spoken of him the last time she had been in London.

‘Well, yes, dear, of course I would have introduced him to you, but as a result of his father’s death, Lord Garthdale was absent from society almost the entire time. In fact, he didn’t return to it until early the following year, by which time your relationship with Lord Durling had long since come to an end.’

Her aunt’s explanation had certainly helped to explain why there had been no discussion of the Earl of Garthdale that year, Diana reflected now, though she couldn’t say with equal certainty that he was unaware of what had happened to her. He might well have heard something from his friends upon his return to society. Her aunt had told her there had been much talk of it at the time, and for some months afterwards.

‘So, the lady decided to risk another encounter with me after all,’ a familiar voice said from the path ahead. ‘I am honoured.’

Roused from her thoughts, Diana looked up—and was astonished to see Lord Garthdale riding towards her. Surely he hadn’t come specifically to see her?

‘It is a beautiful morning,’ Diana said, determined to remain as cool as the circumstances would allow. ‘And I did not think the risk of an encounter was reason enough to stay home. After all, the park is large enough for us both to be here and not see each other, is it not?’

His smile flashed, his teeth appearing very white against the warm brown of his skin. ‘I agree that the chances of running into one another were slight, but I also admit I came in the hopes of doing just that.’

Glad for the veil that hid her blushes, Diana said, ‘You should be careful, Lord Garthdale. I’ve been told it is not your habit to offer words of encouragement to single ladies.’

His look of surprise quickly changed to one of amusement. ‘So, the lady also took the time to become acquainted with my name? I must profess myself flattered on top of everything else.’

Diana’s lips twitched. ‘Pray do not be too flattered. Upon returning home yesterday, my groom assured me that he would have come to my aid, had not Lord Garthdale already done so.’

‘Ah, so that was the way of it. Well, since you now have the advantage of knowing my name, I think it only fair that you tell me yours.’

Diana had wondered how she would answer this, if she saw Lord Garthdale again and he should ask. Not only because she felt it would be rude to continue to deny him, but also because there was a good chance that they would meet in the social world to which they both belonged. But if she told him her name was Diana, it might be enough for him to make the association when she was eventually introduced to him, even though her veil prevented him from seeing her face, and the huskiness of her voice from recognising the sound of her real one. For that reason, she had decided to narrow the risk as much as possible. ‘You may call me Jenny,’ she told him.

‘Jenny?’ He looked at her. ‘Nothing more?’

‘Nothing more. Just Jenny.’

‘I assume there is a reason you don’t wish me to know your full name?’

‘There is, but it is nothing of import.’

‘I wonder,’ Lord Garthdale said. ‘I could think you a famous courtesan looking for a new protector, but I doubt you would trouble yourself with a groom if that were the case.’

Diana’s cheeks warmed at the inference, but she didn’t look away. ‘A logical assumption, my lord, and correct since I am most certainly not a courtesan.’

‘Perhaps a widow, then, living away from London. One who, upon returning to it, wishes to take a lover and arranges it through discreet meetings with gentlemen in the park.’

Diana felt her colour deepen. ‘You seem to think my motives for being in the park are all quite immoral.’

‘On the contrary, I am merely trying to ascertain why a young woman would ride in the park so heavily veiled that it makes it all but impossible to see her face, and be unwilling to reveal anything more than her first name.’

‘Perhaps I lead such a boring life that keeping gentlemen guessing as to my identity is my only source of entertainment.’

He smiled, but shook his head. ‘I don’t presume to know you…Jenny, but I doubt you are easily bored. I suspect you are a woman of breeding and intelligence, and one who finds pleasure in whatever she does. But I do think you are hiding something.’

For Diana, the pleasure abruptly went out of the game. ‘You may be right, Lord Garthdale. In which case, you will understand why I am reluctant to disclose my identity to you.’

He glanced down at his hands, seemingly in thought. ‘If I gave you my word that I would not disclose your secret to anyone, would you answer me differently?’

‘No, because I would be a foolish woman indeed to trust a stranger with so important a matter.’

‘I do not go back on my promises.’

Strangely enough, Diana believed him, but it made no difference. ‘You are able to say that now when you have no knowledge of who I am, but that is not to say that you wouldn’t be compelled to do so in order to honour a promise made to another. Now, if you will excuse me—’

‘Jenny!’

The sound of her name on his lips made her stop. The way he said it made her tremble. ‘My lord?’

‘I really don’t care what you’re hiding. As strange as it sounds, I don’t even care who you really are. But I would like to see you again, even if it is only in the anonymity of the park like this.’

‘But why? As you say, you know nothing of me. And I am sure your time could be better spent.’

‘Perhaps, but I have time enough to do the things I must. This I do for myself, and I have already agreed that it makes no sense. Unfortunately, there is something about you that intrigues me, and makes me curious to know more.’

Diana gripped the reins a little harder. ‘Curiosity is not always a good thing.’

‘No, but the lack of it makes for a decidedly boring existence,’ he said, nudging the bay closer. ‘It is not my intention to make you uncomfortable, Jenny, but if I agree not to press you for details, will you agree to ride with me in the mornings for as long as you are in London?’

Diana hardly knew what to say. She certainly hadn’t planned on anything like this happening, hadn’t thought she would be called upon to further what had started out as a harmless deceit. And while she had been able to support it for two mornings, to continue it now, when she knew it was a lie, would remove all pretence of innocence. Could she do that?

Did she want to?

‘I do not understand what you hope to gain by this, Lord Garthdale,’ Diana said, stalling.

‘Perhaps your eventual agreement to tell me more about yourself.’

‘And if I choose to say nothing?’

His smile was sardonic. ‘Though disappointed, I shall no doubt find the strength to go on. If you wish to tell me nothing, I shall have to be content to ride with you and to enjoy whatever conversations we have. There is, however, one request I would make of you.’

Diana caught her breath. Would he ask her to lift her veil? ‘And that is?’

‘That you even the stakes. For all I know, you are a titled lady, and I can hardly be Lord Garthdale to you when you are Jenny to me. My name is Edward.’

It was the strangest conversation Diana had ever had. She gazed up at the man sitting calmly in the saddle beside her, a man who had asked for nothing beyond the pleasure of her company without the slightest knowledge of who she was, and realised that she rather liked the idea. ‘It is a peculiar request, Lord Garthdale, and one society would most certainly frown upon.’

‘True, but if neither of us is to tell them, how are they to find out?’

Truth be told, it was unlikely anyone would find out, Diana admitted, if neither of them was inclined to mention it. And whatever his true motives for wishing to spend time with her were, they could not be furthered without her complete agreement to the plan, which effectively put her in control of the situation.

Diana looked up at him again, studying the lines and angles of his face, and wondered if any man had ever looked at her so intently. She knew that he was curious to see who she was; curious to discover the details of her physical appearance. What man alive did not wish to see the face of a veiled woman? But she didn’t think curiosity accounted for all of his interest. It didn’t invoke the kind of yearning she saw in the depths of his eyes.

But what could a man like this possibly yearn for? He had no need of clandestine meetings in the park. If he wished to speak to a lady, he simply went up to her and engaged her in conversation. So what was it about her that inspired him to agree to such strange terms? Her aunt had portrayed him as a gentleman of breeding and manners, and certainly his conduct to her yesterday had been proof of that. And yet, he must suspect her of being slightly improper. She had already admitted to having a secret; the kind that would cause a lady to ride heavily veiled, and to resist all attempts at a proper introduction. Why would he not suspect her of being an unhappily married lady looking for a lover?

Did it really matter what he thought?

The question surprised Diana, but the answer surprised her even more. No, it didn’t. She had come to London to spend time with her aunt, and to see Phoebe presented to society. She had no intention of partaking in the social whirl herself, except where it was necessary to accompany Phoebe, and as soon as the Season was over, she would return to Whitley and resume her life there. For now, Lord Garthdale wished to ride with her and to continue their association on the terms he had put forward.

For once in her life, Diana decided it was reason enough.

They rode for over an hour, staying by mutual consent to the less well-travelled areas of the park, content to let the horses set their own pace. And while they walked, they talked.

Lord, how they talked! Diana couldn’t remember ever having spoken so freely to a man before. Certainly, she had never spoken to Lord Durling like this. She hadn’t been at liberty to express her beliefs in such an open and honest way, because Lord Durling hadn’t been interested in her opinions.

His opinion, frequently voiced, was that women only had one role to play: that of the subservient, well-mannered wife. It was their duty to raise the children and to tend the house, and if a woman chanced to have opinions of her own, she was free to express them to her female friends and relatives, but not to him.

Lord Durling had expressed absolutely no desire to see a more intellectually stimulating side of her.

Fortunately, Edward wasn’t like that. He invited her to offer opinions on a variety of subjects, and listened to them all with interest and respect. When he brought up a subject—and he brought up many—he genuinely wanted to know what she thought about it. He even challenged her to think more intensely about a matter if he felt she was missing a certain aspect of it, or if her answers were lacking in depth. And when they exhausted one topic, they went on to another, including those that were of interest to her.

All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and when Diana glanced at the watch pinned to her bodice, she was dismayed to see how quickly time had passed.

‘Oh, dear, I really must be returning home. My aunt will be wondering where I am.’

‘She won’t worry, I hope.’ Edward drew the hunter to a halt. ‘She knows you ride with a groom?’

‘Yes, but she would not expect me to be away so long.’

‘Why not? She must already know what an accomplished rider you are.’ He slid her a sardonic glance. ‘You really didn’t need my help yesterday, did you.’

It wasn’t phrased as a question, so Diana didn’t answer it as one. ‘Nevertheless, it did demonstrate what a gallant gentleman you are, and what a helpful nature you possess.’

He gave a short bark of laughter. ‘I doubt there are many in society who would credit me with such noble qualities.’

‘Why? Do you go out of your way to be discourteous in society?’ Diana couldn’t resist asking.

‘Not as a rule, but no doubt my inclination to remain separate is a constant source of aggravation to mothers who would have me dance attendance upon their lovely daughters.’ He smiled, sarcasm vanishing. ‘Still, that need not enter into the conversation this morning. It would only serve to spoil what has been a most enjoyable interlude.’ He turned to look at her, and his gaze held hers. ‘I shall be here again tomorrow morning, Jenny. I hope you will join me.’

Diana felt her pulse beat in her throat. ‘It is probably best that I make no promises, Edward, but…I will try.’

‘That is all I can ask.’ He swept her a dashing bow. ‘Until tomorrow, fair lady.’ Then he pressed his heels to the bay’s sides and set off at a slow canter.

Bemused by it all, Diana turned Juliet’s head around, and thought about the meeting that had just taken place. Was she right to say that she was happy? Surely she had nothing to be happy about. She had just agreed to meet with a man she barely knew, and to keep her identity secret from him.

What was there to look forward to in that but the certainty of failure? She knew there was no chance of a relationship developing between them. At least, not the kind of relationship she, or any other gently bred lady, would entertain. And yet, on the strength of her two brief meetings with him, Diana was already more aware of Edward as a man than she had any right to be. She grew a little breathless every time he was around, and on several occasions, she had experienced a curious sense of renewal, as though her heart was suddenly awakening from the depths of a long, deep sleep.

Still, there was no point in reading more into it than was warranted. Once he found out who she was—the woman who had jilted Lord Durling—it would surely be over. Edward was sure to know what had taken place between Diana Hepworth and Lord Durling. Perhaps he was even a friend of Lord Durling’s and had heard first hand the lies he’d told about her.

Lies, Diana reflected bitterly, told to camouflage the depth of his own wickedness.

Unfortunately, Edward wouldn’t know that. He would only know that Diana Hepworth was a callous, deceitful woman who had pretended to love a man, only to cast him aside when she decided to look for someone better. A woman with no scruples, and who would do whatever it took to marry the richest man she could—even if it meant jilting a man who had been prepared to swear a lifetime of love and devotion to her.

Diana sighed. Those were the stories Edward would have heard, because those were the lies Lord Durling had circulated. They were also the reasons she couldn’t tell him the truth. She didn’t want to see the expression on his face change, or the softness in his eyes harden into disgust when he looked at her. As foolish as it might be, Diana wanted Edward to think well of her, and for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, she might be able to do that. They could ride together in the mornings and enjoy their conversations. They would talk to one another as equals, free to voice their respective opinions, and to suffer no consequences as a result, because in that regard Phoebe was right.

There was a decided lack of stimulating conversation to be had in Whitley. Try as she might, Diana often found the topics of discussion reverting back to the same old subjects, namely how the rain—or lack thereof—was going to affect the crops, and whether or not old Mrs Fenton would make it through the winter. However, it was where she had grown up, and where circumstances four years ago had compelled her to return. And though Diana was determined to make the best of it, that didn’t mean she would willingly give up the opportunity of enjoying intelligent conversation with a man like Lord Garthdale, now that it had been presented to her.

And so, she decided to allow herself these precious moments in time. She knew they would be fleeting, but she would give herself the pleasure of speaking to a man who valued her opinions and to whom she could speak without fear of censure or contempt. Her aunt had said it best. Time did pass quickly. And in the scheme of things, Diana had no doubt that four weeks, like four years, would pass in little more than the blink of an eye!

‘Come, Phoebe, we shall be late!’ Diana called, stopping by the door of her cousin’s room. ‘The carriage is waiting.’

‘I’m coming, Diana. Just a few more minutes! Marie is finishing my hair!’

Diana silently turned and continued on towards the stairs. They were to attend the Townleys’ soirée this evening, and it seemed as though the entire house was at sixes and sevens. Not only because it would mark Phoebe’s unofficial entrance into society, but because it was also Diana’s first foray into society in over four years.

It was understandable that both ladies were suffering considerable nerves.

It hadn’t helped that Mrs Mitchell had forgotten that it was tonight the reception was to be held. Indeed, it was only thanks to her having run into Mrs Townley and Amanda at Layton and Shears that morning that she had discovered her oversight. Then there had been a positive flurry of last-minute preparations as gowns, gloves and other necessities had been pulled out and made ready.

But equally important were Mrs Mitchell’s repeated assurances that Amanda was longing to see her dear friend again.

Diana wished she could say the same. That is, she wished she could say that the prospect of attending a society event at which Amanda would be present was not overshadowed by the thought that so many other people would be there as well. Still, it was a special night for Amanda, and Diana had no intention of missing it.

‘Ah, there you are, my dear,’ Mrs Mitchell said, standing at the foot of the stairs. ‘And looking exceptionally lovely, I must say. Madame Claremont knew what she was talking about when she suggested that gown for you. The simplicity of the design makes it appear very elegant, and I knew the shade would look well on you. You are going to attract a great deal of attention this evening, my dear, and not for the reasons you fear.’

Diana smiled, comfortable in the knowledge that she did at least look well for the evening’s festivities. The soft apricot gown with demi-train was one of the many Mrs Mitchell had ordered for her. The style was highly flattering to the slender lines of her figure, and the colour was a perfect compliment to the fairness of her skin. Her aunt’s petite French maid, Marie, had arranged her dark hair in a cluster of curls atop her head, and had set a dainty gold clip in the back. The rest of her jewellery was simple. Her mother’s pearl earrings, and a necklace of gold and pearls that nestled in the shadowy cleft between her breasts.

Phoebe came down not long after, looking radiant in a gown of white satin trimmed with deep rose. Her blonde hair was arranged in a soft tumble of curls to one side of her face, making her appear very young and appealing. Mrs Mitchell, who was herself gowned in deep blue silk, gave her a brief nod of approval, and then led the way out to the waiting carriage.

‘Courage, my dears,’ she said as they settled in for the short ride to the Townleys’ house. ‘Keep your chins up, your smiles bright, and, like the inimitable Sarah Siddons, you shall have all of London falling at your feet!’

Diana smiled and sat back against the cushions. Encouraging words, she reflected, though only time would tell how helpful they would be. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath, whispered a silent prayer, and waited for the proverbial curtain to rise.