A Rogue for All Seasons (Weston Family) (9 page)

Still, no one would be
hurt
if she danced with Henry again….

“Oh, the endless waiting!” she fretted to her mother. The Kelton residence wasn’t very far from Lansdowne House, but the line of carriages moved at a snail’s pace. By the time their carriage neared the front of the line, Diana could have walked there and back at least half a dozen times.

Her mother tweaked one of Diana’s curls. “You are unusually eager tonight. I thought you would beg off once your grandmother took to her bed.”

“Then I might have been summoned to read to her.” Diana wrinkled her nose. “Do you know, she even objects to the way I read?” She imitated the duchess’s haughty tones. “‘No, Diana dear, you are speaking too quickly. You must learn to e-nun-ci-ate your words. You have had the best governesses money can buy, granddaughter, yet you still sound like a shop girl. That must be your common blood showing.’”

Her mother drew in a sharp breath. “She said that to you?”

“No,” Diana admitted. “She’s never said those precise words, but I know that’s what she’s thinking.”

“Oh, my sweet girl.” Her mother wrapped an arm around Diana’s shoulders. “Believe me, your grandmother found just as many things wrong with me when I was your age. Age has actually gentled her tongue somewhat.”

“But you’re so perfect!”

“Hardly.” Her mother laughed bitterly. “I made mistakes, and now my children are made to pay for them. I don’t worry so much about your brother. Alex is happy away at school, or at least he always seems well on those rare instances when we get to see him. As I doubt my brother will marry, or return to England for that matter, it’s likely he will someday inherit the dukedom. No, it’s you I—” She broke off as the coach door opened.

Diana said nothing as she accepted the footman’s proffered hand and stepped down to the ground, but as they made their way up the front steps she whispered, “Don’t worry, Mama. I have a feeling about tonight. Something good is going to happen.”

She wondered at her words—wondered if she’d inadvertently cursed herself—when the guests proceeded from the drawing room downstairs to the dining table. Diana had no expectations of sitting next to the most eligible bachelors—no, that honor fell to her hostess’s youngest (and only unmarried) daughter—but she considered mutiny—or perhaps she ought to say
muttony
—when she found herself seated beside Lord Blathersby.

Baron Finkley was on her other side, and Diana could not say which man she was less pleased to see. Finkley was eighty if he was a day, and when he spoke to her, his eyes never ventured north of her chest. Being next to either man would have been bad enough; together, they bordered on cruel and unusual punishment.

She was never so glad of the practice of leaving the men to their port and politics as she was tonight. It was all she could do not to rush ahead of her hostess as Lady Kelton led the women upstairs. Diana glanced around, looking for the least conspicuous place to sit for the remainder of the evening, as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Diana!” Her mother’s face glowed with excitement. “Oh, my dear, I think you were right about something good happening tonight. I sat next to the nicest young gentleman—”

“That makes one of us,” Diana muttered.

“Sir Samuel is a cousin of Lady Kelton’s, recently arrived from Wiltshire. He is just turned thirty—”

“Oh, tell me you did not ask his age!”

Her mother didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty. “The information came up naturally in the course of our conversation. Sir Samuel came into his title a few years ago, but he wanted to spend some time modernizing his estate before setting out to look for a wife.”

“So far, he sounds too good to be true. Does he have warts on his nose? A passel of incorrigible younger siblings? Is he losing his hair and running to fat?”

“Nothing of the sort. He has one brother, a little younger than Alex, and a sister still in the schoolroom. As for his looks, Sir Samuel is not, I grant you, the sort to turn ladies’ heads in the street, but he is pleasant looking. I haven’t told you the best part.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I mentioned I had a daughter and— Oh, you will never believe his response. He said, ‘My lady, while I’m sure any daughter of yours must be exceedingly lovely, I pray, do not think to match me with a young girl in her first Season. My head is as apt to be turned by a pretty face as the next man, but I want a woman ready to be a wife and mother.’”

Diana shook her head in disbelief. “Are you certain this paragon is real?”

“You shall see for yourself when the gentlemen come in.”

They found a group of empty seats and, before too long, Lord Kelton led in the gentlemen. He stopped to speak with his wife before making his way over to them. Diana looked a question at her mother who shook her head, clearly just as puzzled as to why their host would seek them out. They stood as he neared them.

“Good evening, ladies.” He bowed, and they curtsied in response. “Lady Linnet, I have come with a message from Sir Samuel. I believe he sat next to you at dinner.”

“He did. Is everything all right, my lord?”

“A messenger arrived just as you ladies left us. There is some pressing matter on Sir Samuel’s estate that requires his immediate presence. The poor fellow has not been here a week. What good is a steward, I ask, if he wants your advice every time the roof threatens to cave?”

Neither Diana nor her mother had a response to that.

“He has gone upstairs to pack and will leave straightaway,” Lord Kelton continued. “He asked me to impart both his regrets at being called away and his hope of renewing your acquaintance upon his return to London.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Though her mother kept her voice even, Diana could sense her disappointment. “If you see Sir Samuel before his departure, please convey my wishes for a speedy resolution to his troubles.”

Lord Kelton promised to relay the message and excused himself. Diana took her seat, unaccountably deflated by the turn of events. In all likelihood, she and Sir Samuel wouldn’t have been a good match, but she felt cheated at not getting the opportunity to meet him and ascertain their unsuitability.

“It seems fate is already conspiring against you and Sir Samuel,” her mother said with false cheer. “I’m certain this business that takes him away will soon be dealt with, and in the meantime, we must see about having a new dress or two made up for you.”

Diana bit back a sigh. Her mother believed Sir Samuel was a gallant knight sent to rescue her near-spinsterish damsel-self. “I’m not going to object to new gowns, but please don’t go planning the wedding quite yet. I do not even know the man’s last name.”

“New gowns? Weddings? I beg your pardon. I was quite shamelessly eavesdropping.”

Diana looked up to see Henry’s sisters, Lady Dunston and Lady Sheldon.

“If you are having new gowns done up, you simply
must
go to Madame Bessette,” Lady Dunston continued. “The woman is more than a modiste; she is an artist. She almost never takes on new clients, but she’s very fond of our brother. She says Hal flirts as well as a Frenchman. Once she learns you’ve caught his interest, she will insist on dressing you.”

Diana’s cheeks burned, and the heat spread over her face and neck. She probably matched Lady Sheldon’s cherry-colored sash. “I’m certain you are mistaken.”

“Please, may we join you?” asked Lady Sheldon, shooting a hard glance at her sister. “Our husbands have retreated to the card room in an effort to avoid dancing.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Her mother appeared as overwhelmed by the vivacious pair as Diana felt. She placed her hand on Diana’s shoulder. “My dear, there is Lady Downes. Now that Lady Dunston and Lady Sheldon are here, you will not mind if I leave you?”

Diana shook her head. “Please give her my regards.”

As the women seated themselves to either side of Diana, a flash of bright red caught Diana’s eye, then again. One after the other, the tips of Lady Sheldon’s red satin shoes emerged from beneath the skirts of her demure white silk gown.

“Bold, aren’t they?”

At the wryly spoken words, Diana jerked her gaze from the shoes up to the face of the woman sitting next to her. Lady Sheldon smiled warmly. “The shoes were a gift from my husband. I never would’ve bought them myself, but he knows me too well. These”—she wriggled her feet—“make me daring. They remind me to take chances and find joy in unexpected places.”

Such love,
Diana thought,
such devotion showed true daring
. No one knew what the future held, and love didn’t always conquer all. But Lady Sheldon would not want to hear that. A polite smile in place, she retreated to safer ground.

“Please accept my belated felicitations on marriage and motherhood. Your ball was truly lovely, not that I would expect anything less from Lady Weston.”

Lady Sheldon studied Diana as though she were a particularly perplexing puzzle.

“Thank you, Miss Merriwether,” Lady Dunston responded when her sister did not. “My sister and I both had small weddings, much to our mother’s dismay, so we had to agree to let her plan something grand. My poor brother shall not get away with less than St. George’s. Speaking of the devil, where is—? Oh, dear. Lord Blathersby has trapped him into conversation again.”

Diana couldn’t suppress her sympathetic groan. “I sat next to him at dinner,” she explained, then added, “Baron Finkley was on my other side.”

“Whatever did you do to win the enmity of Lady Kelton?” Lady Dunston questioned.

Diana laughed and shook her head. “I wondered the same thing.” She worried at her lip a few moments before adding, “Your brother looks quite miserable.”

Lady Dunston nodded, though she did not seem overly perturbed by his distress. “Someone ought to rescue him.” She looked pointedly at her sister.

“Yes, someone ought.” Lady Sheldon’s reply made it clear that she would not be doing the rescuing.

“I will.”

Diana wasn’t sure where the words came from, but once she said them, she had the undivided attention of both women.

Lady Sheldon looked thoughtful; Lady Dunston appeared bemused.

“Miss Merriwether, my brother doesn’t truly need to be rescued,” Lady Dunston said.

Diana took a deep breath. “I know,” she said softly, “but he has rescued me often enough over the years. This is the least I can do.”

Before she could change her mind, Diana quickly got up, excusing herself as she did so, and made her way over to the two men. She waited for Lord Blathersby to draw breath, which was the closest she would come to a break in the conversation.

“I do apologize, Lord Blathersby, but Lady Dunston requests that her brother attend her directly. She has a most pressing need to speak with him.”

Henry groaned and mumbled his excuses. “What have I done this time?” he asked as he escorted her across the room.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “You seemed in need of rescuing, and one good turn deserves another, don’t you think?”

“Miss Merriwether, you have my sincerest gratitude. After five minutes of conversing with Lord Blathersby about his sheep, I begin—”

Her lips twitched. “—woolgathering?”

“Exactly.” He gave her an assessing look. “Why do you never show this side of yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve a quick wit, and I can sense there’s mischief within you, but you’ve buried it. There’s laughter in your eyes right now and a real smile pulling at your mouth; it’s far more appealing than your usual unapproachable mask of propriety.”

She stiffened. “It’s not a mask, and proper behavior does not make me unapproachable.”

“No.” He chuckled. “What scares everyone off is that tight-lipped smile you’ve perfected. Ah, there it is. Yes, yes, quite intimidating.”

“It doesn’t seem to have affected
you,
” Diana muttered.

“Ah, but I am fearless,” Henry boasted, gesticulating broadly with his free arm.

She shook her head. “Everyone is scared of something.”

“And what are you afraid of?” His voice was a silky purr in her ear.

She turned her head and looked into his blue eyes, clear as a summer sky. She ran her tongue over her dry lips and watched, fascinated, as his eyes darkened a shade. “You,” she whispered.

“Me?” A frown creased his brow.

“Well, not
you,
but men
like
you.”

Looking at him, no one would know her words had affected him, but Diana felt his muscles contract beneath her hand and heard the slight hitch in his breathing. He had himself under control an instant later. She wished she could say the same. His words had unsettled her, frightened her… touched her.

“Men like me,” he repeated softly. “And what kind of man would that be?”

“You are a rogue.”

His loud bark of laughter set heads whipping around in their direction. Diana grimaced as the weight of their gazes settled over her like a suffocating shroud. She waited for the whispers and the pointed fingers.

…her mother ran off with the stable master—bad blood, if you ask me…

…she’ll never be a beauty, that one…

…If she were my daughter, I would never have taken her back. Did you hear Lansdowne took the girl as well? That is taking Christian charity
too
far…

What had possessed her to think Henry wanted her rescue? No one wanted her. Not her grandparents. Certainly not her father… An insidious gray fog hazed over her mind, trapping her in a past she didn’t want to remember but couldn’t seem to forget.

She ran and ran, endlessly onward, and not just because she’d lost her way. She always ran. She had no choice. She couldn’t turn back and go home. She didn’t have a home.

Beads of sweat chased each other over goose-pimpled flesh as she pushed herself to go faster, farther. The only sound she could hear was the heavy beat of her own heart. The woods were vast and filled with shadows that snatched at her hair and clothes. Her lungs were tight, burning from exertion and fear.

She’d been lost here before, but she’d known someone would look for her if she waited long enough. She had no one to depend on now save herself. No one was coming to find her.