Читать книгу His Lordship's Desire - Joan Wolf - Страница 13

Diana parted with Alex in the stable yard and went up to the house. Her mother, Lady Standish and Sally were at breakfast and she joined them. Their conversation revolved around what they would do today and about the coming evening at Almack’s. Shortly after, Alex came in. Diana ate her breakfast and never looked at him.

After breakfast, Diana went up to her room to change out of her riding clothes. She was upset about her discussion with Alex and after she took off her boots and her habit, she put on a wrapper and went to lie on the bed, staring up at the blue draperies that surrounded her.

He wanted to marry her. In so many ways, that would be the perfect solution to her future. To live at Standish Court which she loved so much…to raise her children there…

But she couldn’t marry him. She carried too much pain. Her mind shied away at the thought of that pain and what had caused it. Better not to dwell on it, she told herself. Better to try to put Alex behind me and go on with my life.

But the past intruded upon her well intentioned plan and, against her will, her mind traveled back in time to when she was fifteen years old and she and Alex had been riding their horses in the park in the early morning. They had dismounted by the lake to give the horses a chance to drink and as they stood there a deer came down to the other side of the lake. It had been summer, and the air was soft and gentle. At the sight of the lovely animal, Diana had felt something stir inside of her, and, instinctively, she had turned to Alex.

He was looking at her. “You are so beautiful, Dee,” he said. His light eyes had darkened slightly and his voice was a little unsteady. Slowly his head bent toward hers and she had lifted her face. For the first time, their lips had met.

They had kissed gently, tentatively, then Alex’s mouth had hardened and he had put his arms around her. She had leaned against him and kissed him back. When finally he raised his head, they both were breathing quickly.

“Oh, Dee,” he said shakily. “Oh, Dee.”

She didn’t know what to say. They had been friends for so many years. But this was something new.

“What does this mean?” she asked.

“I think it means we love each other,” he had returned.

She thought for a moment, and then she had nodded. “Yes,” she had said. “I think it means that, too.”

She lay now on her bed, her eyes closed, and remembered that first kiss. She would remember it for as long as she lived. She would remember the look in Alex’s eyes, she would remember how his hard, young body had felt against hers.

She shut her eyes very tightly and willed the memory to go away. It was futile to dwell on the past. Alex hadn’t really loved her—or he hadn’t loved her enough. That was what she had to remember.

I am starting a new life tonight, she thought. That is what I must concentrate on.

That evening Diana, her mother and the rest of the Standishes prepared to leave Standish House to go to the famous Almack’s Assembly Rooms on King Street. Alex was waiting at the foot of the stairs as Diana and Sally came down, and Diana thought he looked splendid in the evening dress that was demanded for entrance to the club: knee breeches, a white neck cloth and black dress coat with long tails. Diana herself wore a white gown over a sea green slip. Her glorious red-gold hair was caught behind her ears with pearl-studded combs and her jewelry was a simple pearl necklace and matching earrings.

Sally was similarly attired in her usual blue, with a diamond around her throat and diamond studs in her ears. She looked utterly sweet and lovely.

The two older women wore silk gowns, Mrs. Sherwood in a smoky gray and Lady Standish in dark gold.

They all got into the Standish coach, with the earl’s coat of arms painted on its door, and the horses began their route through the city streets. Diana didn’t know what she had been expecting but it was certainly something grander than the simple building with undistinguished brickwork that the carriage drew up before. Everyone got out and Alex escorted his mother and Mrs. Sherwood to the front door, with the girls bringing up the rear. At the door they presented their vouchers and were admitted into the inner sanctum of society’s self-described “marriage mart.”

“It looks terribly plain,” Sally whispered to Diana as they went up the stairs to the main floor. There was no architectural interest about the ballroom at all. It was just a big room with a bad floor, but it was crowded with the highest members of London society, all dressed in their finest clothes. The scent of mingling perfumes rose to Diana’s nostrils as she stood there, her chest feeling tight under her lovely gown.

Music was playing and the dance floor was filled with dancers. Alex steered his mother and Mrs. Sherwood around the edges of the floor, and Diana saw that he was heading toward Lady Jersey, who was enthroned amidst the rest of the patronesses as they kept an eagle eye on what was transpiring before them.

The patronesses shifted their gaze to the Standish party and sat silently as Lady Jersey greeted them and then turned to introduce them. Of the six other patronesses of Almack’s, only Lady Castlereagh, Lady Cowper and Mrs. Drummond Burrell were present that evening and they smiled warmly upon Alex, Lady Standish and Sally. The smiles were less warm as they greeted Mrs. Sherwood and Diana.

The music stopped and the dancers began to stream off the floor. Lady Jersey motioned to a tall, willowy young man, who obediently came to her side and was presented to them as Viscount Althorpe. Lady Jersey said, “I thought you might enjoy a dance with Lady Sarah Standish, Althorpe. She is newly come to town and doesn’t know anyone yet.”

The young man beamed and turned to Sally with alacrity. The dancers were forming up for the next dance and the two of them moved off together. Diana felt a moment of panic, but then she felt Alex taking her hand. “Come along, Dee. You’ve come here to dance, after all.”

Lady Standish and Mrs. Sherwood moved off to join the rows of chaperones and Diana went with Alex. As they walked away she heard the cool, aristocratic tones of Mrs. Drummond Burrell say to Lady Jersey, “Really, Sally, whatever possessed you to give vouchers to the Sherwoods?”

Diana stiffened.

Alex said, “Nasty old cat. Don’t pay any mind to her, Dee. You fit in here just fine.”

Diana and Alex took their places in the line and the dance started. It was a country dance, which involved the ladies being passed from partner to partner, and Diana forced herself to smile and look as if she was having a good time. At the end of the dance she and Alex were back together again, and he walked her off the floor.

A young man approached them.

“I say, Standish,” he said. “I haven’t seen you since Salamanca. Back home for good, I see?”

Alex replied and the young man, who was broadchested and broad-faced, said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Alex presented Lord Butler to Diana, who immediately asked her to dance. She accepted, thrilled that someone besides Alex wanted to dance with her. Together they went out onto the floor.

That was the way the evening went. Both Diana and Sally danced every dance.

Diana was radiant. Forgotten was the hurtful comment of Mrs. Drummond Burrell. She wasn’t going to be shunned. She could attract men in London just the way she had at home. Her London Season was going to be all right.

Alex watched Diana’s progress with mixed emotions. He certainly hadn’t wanted her to fail, but it hurt to watch her with other men. It hurt bitterly. He wanted to rush onto the floor, drag her away from her partner and claim her as his own.

No matter what she might say about never forgiving him, he wasn’t going to give up. He couldn’t give up. There was too much between them—there had always been too much between them—for him to believe that she could turn her back on him so easily.

Perhaps she wouldn’t get another marriage offer. Men liked to dance with a pretty girl, but marriage to a dowerless country girl was another thing altogether. If she had nobody else to marry, perhaps she would think differently about him. If she changed her mind out of necessity, that would be all right. He would take Dee any way he could get her.

He had missed her so much. He had missed her achingly. He had known she was hurt and angry when she hadn’t answered his letters, but in his heart he had always thought that he could make everything right when he came home.

He looked at her glowing smile as she danced with her tall, handsome partner, and his stomach clenched.

The following morning a variety of bouquets were delivered to Standish House for the girls. Most were for Sally, but there were a few for Diana, as well. Along with the flowers came invitations to drive in the park. The young men who had sent the flowers all turned up at Standish House at eleven o’clock, the official hour for making morning calls, and they all sat in the downstairs drawing room making conversation, attended by Lady Standish and Mrs. Sherwood.

Diana agreed to drive out with a lively young man who was the younger son of a baron. His name was Matthew Dunster and Diana found him very entertaining. He also was mad about horses, which immediately gave them something in common to talk about.

Sally chose a more matrimonially advantageous escort, the eldest son of an earl. Lady Standish was pleased to express her approval of both girls’ plans, and arrangements were made for them to be picked up at five o’clock that afternoon.

“We have a musicale to go to after lunch,” Lady Standish announced to the girls after their suitors had left. “It’s at the Countess of Morham’s. A very popular pianist is going to be there.”

Sally was thrilled. She was a very good musician herself and she loved music. Diana was less excited. She would have preferred to spend the afternoon outdoors.

“Is Alex coming?” she heard herself ask.

“No, I believe he is going to Tattersall’s to look at horses,” Lady Standish replied.

Horses! This sounded so much better than being cooped up inside all afternoon listening to music. “I believe I’ll go with Alex,” Diana said.

“You most certainly will not,” Lady Standish returned. “Ladies do not go to Tattersall’s. You would ruin your reputation were you to do such a thing.”

Diana stuck out her lip, just the way she had done when she was a child and was thwarted from doing something she wanted to do. “That’s ridiculous,” she said. “Why can’t I go to look at horses?”

“Tattersall’s is strictly a male domain,” Lady Standish explained. “Alex will tell you the same thing. Besides, it will look good for you to be seen at the musicale with us. Lady Morham is an important figure in society.”

So Diana dragged herself off to the musicale with Lady Standish, her mother and Sally. It wasn’t that she disliked music; she enjoyed listening to Sally play in the evening. But she would so much rather have been at Tattersall’s with Alex.

The next two weeks—the weeks before Lady Standish was due to have her official come-out ball for Sally and Diana—were crammed with activities. They went to balls, routs, Venetian breakfasts, musicales and drove in Hyde Park. Alex had been true to his word and sent for Diana’s dog, Freddie, to be sent to London. Diana walked her dog in Green Park twice every day. She and Sally had exactly the same schedule, except that Sally’s escorts were all highly born and had money, while Diana’s escorts tended to be younger sons with few prospects. They were all obviously smitten by Diana, but none could possibly be serious husband material. None of them had the money to marry a penniless girl like her.

One of Sally’s suitors was the heir to the Marquess of Norton. Sally was driving with Lord Morple in the area of Pall Mall, a neighborhood which, like so many good neighborhoods in London, bordered on a slum. As Sally’s carriage passed in front of Marlborough House, she saw an old cart pulled to the side of the road, with a man and a boy standing beside it. The boy looked to be about five and was dressed in filthy rags. As Sally watched in horror, the man raised his horse whip and laid it across the boy’s back.

“Disgusting,” Sally’s escort said, looking down his nose. “These people shouldn’t be allowed in this part of town.”

“Stop!” Sally shouted, reaching for the reins. She halted the horses, and Lord Morple looked at her in astonishment as she swung herself down from the carriage.

“Here, Lady Sarah! You can’t do that! Come back here!”

Sally ignored him and ran toward the man who had once more raised his whip and it hit the boy again. “Stop that!” she commanded.

Sally had a very soft voice and the man ignored her, raising his whip yet again. “Ye wretched little cur,” he said. “I’ll have ye obey me or else.”

At that, Sally dashed in to throw her arms protectively around the child and the whip came down upon her own shoulder. She flinched but didn’t cry out. The man cursed.

“How dare you beat this child?” she said fiercely, the boy gathered safely to her breast. “What has he done to deserve such barbaric treatment?”

“It’s none o’ yer business, young miss,” the man replied. “But he’s one of my climbing boys and he refused to go up the chimney in yon house. I’m beatin’ some sense into him, that’s wot I’m doin’.”

“You wretched man,” Sally said passionately. High color stained her cheeks. “Would you send a frightened child up a chimney? What kind of monster are you?”

The boy whimpered and pressed closer to Sally.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” she said to him. “You are safe with me.”

“Here, that’s my boy,” the man said loudly, and he began to advance upon Sally, evidently with the idea of ripping the boy from her arms.

A deep, resonant voice said, “Desist, you worm. Lay one hand on the lady and I shall be forced to kill you.”

For a brief moment, Sally thought her escort had come to her rescue but then she realized that the voice was different. She looked up to see a tall, blond man dressed in a many-caped riding coat standing next to the chimney sweeper. “You cannot beat your poor unfortunate boys on the city streets,” the blond man said. “At least you can’t while there is a lady of mercy in the vicinity. I suggest you go about your business before I have you arrested for vicious conduct.”

“That boy’s mine,” the man said indignantly. “You can’t just take him from me! He’s worth money!”

“Slavery is outlawed in England,” Sally said. “If this boy chooses to leave you of his own free will, there is nothing you can do about it.” She looked down at the filthy head that was pressed against her breast. “Do you wish to leave this man, my dear?”

“Yes,” came the breathless reply.

“Then I think you have had your answer,” the tall stranger said. “Take yourself off before I am tempted to knock you down for attacking helpless children.”

His voice was cool and utterly authoritative. After a moment, the chimney man got back into his wagon and started up his poor, skinny horse.

Sally looked up at the man who had come to her rescue. Her escort was still sitting in his phaeton, staring at her. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “You came just in time.”

For the first time she noticed that the man’s eyes were a very unusual shade of green.

“Let’s have a look at the lad,” he said.

Sally put her hands on the boy’s thin shoulders and held him away from her. The front of her pelisse was filthy, from coal dirt and tears and the boy’s runny nose. She appeared not to notice.

“What is your name?” she asked gently.

“Jem,” came the reply.

“How long have you been a climbing boy?” the man asked.

“Just a few months. But I don’t like it. I’m afraid of getting caught in the chimney. But my pa said he couldna feed me, that I’d have to do it.”

“How old are you?”

“Eight.”

He was small enough to look five. He snuffled. Sally looked at her rescuer and said, “Do you have a handkerchief, sir?”

The thick blond brows rose, but the man reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and produced the article requested.

“Here,” Sally said, handing over the pristine handkerchief. “Blow your nose, Jem, and wipe your face.”

The two adults stood in silence and watched as the boy did as he was requested. When he was finished he attempted to hand the handkerchief back to its owner, who shook his head sharply and said, “No, no, you keep it, boy.”