A Question of Impropriety

‘You do not approve, Miss Clare. I can tell from the set of your eyebrows,’ Lord Coltonby said and a faint smile touched his lips. ‘The ever-so-faintly censorious Miss Clare. Always so determined to do what is right and proper.’

‘Whether I approve or not is immaterial as you appear intent on taking snuff.’ Diana kept her chin up and made her gaze meet his, forced herself to ignore her natural inclination to walk away as quickly as dignity would allow. She would protect Miranda. She refused to allow an innocent to be drawn into his web. No true lady could ever do that.

‘But I desire your good opinion. Your smile is so much prettier than your frown.’ Lord Coltonby slid the snuffbox back into his pocket. ‘I bow to your knowledge of the local situation as I do in all things. What is permissible in London…And it was a gift from Brummell.’

‘The rules of society seldom change that much, Lord Coltonby.’ Diana drew a deep breath and tightened her grip on her reticule. Protecting herself had to come second when she was faced with a situation like this. Miss Bolt stood poised on a precipice. She did not understand the danger. Surely a small sacrifice on Diana’s part was worth preserving Miss Bolt’s reputation. ‘I find if one exercises common sense and courtesy, most situations resolve themselves.’

‘What sound and estimable advice, Miss Clare. Is it any wonder I hang on your every word?’ A dimple flashed in his cheek.

‘Insincere flattery does you no favours, Lord Coltonby.’

‘How do you know it is insincere?’

‘It was the upward twitch of your lips that gave me the final clue,’ Diana said with crushing firmness. All she wanted was to end this exchange, to get back home where she was safe.

He gave a barely suppressed snort of laughter. His grey eyes shone like opals. ‘As ever, Miss Clare, I find it difficult to disconcert you…but it is so much fun to try. I can’t remember when I have been so amused.’

‘My existence does not revolve around your amusement.’

‘It could be arranged, if you desired it.’ His voice lowered to a purr, one that played on her senses and made promises of sensual delights, if only she’d accept. As if she were some naïve débutante to be led astray during a visit to Vauxhall Gardens.

Diana shook her head. She’d never forget. She knew him for what he was—a leader of the Jehu club, the prince of rakes. Such men spelt trouble for the unwary woman. They were only interested in their own pleasure, and took rather than gave. But a tiny piece of her wanted to believe that he was different.

‘Ignorance is bliss, as some say.’

‘But I thought you enjoyed being educated, Miss Clare. A denizen of the circulating library?’

Diana struggled to contain her temper. He delighted in provoking her.

‘I was unaware that you were familiar with Lord Coltonby, Miss Clare. That you were intimate friends.’ Miss Bolt’s voice held an edge to it and her tiny mouth turned down, giving her the appearance of having swallowed a particularly sour plum.

She elbowed her way so she was standing between Diana and Lord Coltonby. The feathers on Miranda’s bonnet tickled Diana’s nose and she fought against the urge to sneeze. She stepped to one side.

‘Intimate? Are we?’ Lord Coltonby raised an eyebrow, regarded her with a faintly sardonic look. ‘You must inform me of the Northumbrian definition of intimate, Miss Clare. I wish to see if it coincides with mine. As you know, I never like to disappoint a lady.’

‘She hasn’t said anything. She simply let me make a fool out of myself,’ Miss Bolt cried. ‘She has been keeping secrets!’

‘Miss Bolt, Lord Coltonby and I were acquainted in London,’ Diana replied, swallowing hard, scarcely able to believe it was her own voice. ‘Lord Coltonby was good enough to call on me the other day as he happened to be in the neighbourhood and we renewed our acquaintance. He seeks to tease. It is his way. You must ignore him.’

‘I always like to renew acquaintances where I can.’ A bright light appeared in Lord Coltonby’s eyes. ‘Particularly when they are as charming as Miss Clare. It was one of the bonuses of coming to reside in this neighbourhood, to be able to renew an acquaintance that was cruelly cut short.’

Diana tilted her head and peered at him from under her lashes. This time his face, save his dancing eyes, was a mask of sincerity. No one would guess that it was an act. Her heart thudded in her ears. She played with the button of her glove, wishing she knew why he seemed determined to play this game.

‘Lord Coltonby seeks to flatter, but one must never believe insincere flattery.’

‘You sought Miss Diana Clare out? Deliberately?’ Miss Bolt gave a little stamp of her foot. Diana noted her face did not appear nearly as angelic. ‘You went to visit her? But I always understood her time in London to have been a complete and utter disaster.’

‘You were misinformed, Miss Bolt.’ Lord Coltonby made a deep bow. ‘She was one of the highlights of the Season that year. Unfortunately, duty called her home and the capital became a little greyer, a little less pleasant.’

‘Duty…yes, I suppose.’ Miss Bolt tapped a finger against her folded arms. ‘Poor Mr Clare’s wife died, leaving him that…that boy. I had never considered. It makes a great deal of sense now that I think of it. Dear Miss Clare was truly selfless.’

‘Every time I have encountered Miss Clare, I have noted her quality. It is only increased if she also manages an impossible child.’

‘Robert is far from being impossible,’ Diana protested. ‘He’s lovely, if a little high spirited. I am very proud of my nephew.’

‘High spirited? He put beetles in your sugar bowl and frightened poor Mama half out of her wits.’

‘He had thought the bowl empty.’ Diana stifled a smile as she remembered the incident from earlier that summer. Robert had sworn that it was a natural history experiment, but neither of the Bolts had been amused, particularly as one of the beetles had found its way on to Miss Bolt’s new straw bonnet. Simon had claimed he’d been able to hear the shrieking all the way from the estate office. ‘He did apologise.’

‘Only because you demanded it.’ Miss Bolt gave a loud sniff. ‘I can never look at that particular bonnet without a shiver going down my back. If you hadn’t plucked the beetle out!’

‘It is good to hear that Miss Clare had the situation well in hand. Quick thinking and a calm head are qualities to be admired.’

Diana lifted her gaze and met Lord Coltonby’s steady one. She nodded her thanks. She bit her lip. She had been so quick to believe the worst of him. What if she had made a mistake? What if he truly sought only friendship?

‘I must confess to having never given it much thought. A cool head in a moment of crisis. You could describe it that way.’ Miss Bolt drew her top lip over her front teeth, giving her face the expression of a startled rabbit, and brought Diana back to reality. ‘Mama can be wrong in her assessments of people sometimes.’

‘I consider it best to judge people as individuals. To eschew cant and hypocrisy whenever possible.’

Miss Bolt’s smile vanished as she looked quickly from one to the other. ‘I don’t listen to gossips.’

‘You have a wise head on your young shoulders, then, Miss Bolt. Discover the true person. That is the key to success.’

Diana knew the words were for Miss Bolt’s benefit, but to her surprise a tiny piece of her wanted them to be true. She wanted him to think well of her despite the long-ago gossip from London and Lady Bolt’s pronouncements.

Diana put a hand to her face and mentally shook herself. Soon she would wish to believe in impossible dreams again. There was safety in the everyday world. Its strictures and structures prevented impulsive action. Impetuosity had led to her downfall before. It would never do so again. She had conquered it.

‘It was lovely to meet you again after so long, Lord Coltonby,’ she said, inclining her head. ‘And to know that your feelings remain the same.’

‘My feelings towards you have never changed since the day I first glimpsed you,’ he murmured, capturing her hand again and bringing it to his lips.

Diana forced her body to stay still as his mouth touched the small gap left by her undone button. Heat washed through her. Rapidly she withdrew her hand and did the button up. When she glanced upwards, she discovered he was watching her with a sardonic twist to his lips.

‘Oh, oh, I see Mama. She will need to know…to know…’ Miss Bolt hurried away.

A smile tugged at the corner of Lord Coltonby’s lips as they watched Miss Bolt run to her mother, obviously bursting to impart the bit of gossip she had learnt.

‘That went delightfully well. Now I look forward to exploring your Northumbrian definition of intimate.’

‘I have no idea what sort of game you are playing, but I don’t like it.’ Diana took a long steadying breath. ‘We are not having and never will have a flirtation. How dare you imply otherwise?’

‘Did I? You must be reading too much into my words. A very bad habit, Miss Clare. I always mean precisely what I say. I find it saves trouble.’

‘I have shopping to do. I do not have time to discuss the precise meaning of words with acquaintances on the High Street.’

‘And here I had anticipated that we might become friends.’

‘I fear, Lord Coltonby, that we are destined for ever to remain acquaintances.’

Diana straightened her back and, with a sigh of what she convinced herself was relief, walked away from him. She refused to look behind her even when she thought she heard the word—coward.

Brett swirled the amber liquid in the crystal glass and gazed at the darkening landscape through the study’s window. All the land the eye could see—his, and unencumbered by a mortgage or debt. He had kept his promise, the one he had made on that windswept field and on the dock as he’d waved off Bagshott’s ship. He had turned his fortune around. He had not sunk into the mire like his brother, and neither had he needed to run to the Continent. And he had achieved it in his own way. And yet, the victory seemed hollow in some fashion. He pushed the thought aside. It was a victory, and that was all that mattered.

All things considered, today had gone well. He had enjoyed crossing swords with Diana Clare, far more than he ought to have.

She might not have conventional beauty, but it was her prickly exterior that intrigued him. Why was she so set against him? What had he ever done to her?

‘Simon Clare to see you.’ The butler had barely uttered the words when the tall man brushed past him. The cut of the coat might be better and the boots shinier, but Brett felt he would recognise the intensity of Clare’s eyes anywhere—and the feebleness of his manners.

Brett pursed his lips. The days when all he’d had was his name and a good eye for the horses were long gone. He refused to be intimidated by a man wearing the latest of everything and boasting about it. Clare always assumed that having money meant you could forgo the niceties of polite society.

‘Ah, Clare,’ he said, reaching for the decanter. ‘It has been a long time.’

‘I have come to discuss your latest demand.’ Clare ignored the decanter and waved a piece of paper. ‘I assume it is why you called at my house yesterday.’

‘To see if things could be settled satisfactorily without calling in the lawyers.’ Brett paused. How to say it? How not to antagonise Clare? ‘Between landowners. Disputes have a terrible way of getting out of hand.’

‘You mean amongst the aristocracy.’ Clare snorted. ‘Don’t worry. I know where I fit in. And I can guess what flim-flam Biddlestone said, but I have no intention of selling that piece of land. I might have use for it sometime in the future.’

‘Doubtful.’ Brett swirled the brandy. Clare was the same jumped-up arriviste with his eye on the main chance that he’d been at Cambridge, lacking in bottom. Dog in the manger. The land was lying derelict. ‘You have not used that wagon-way since you built the new staith. You have no use for it. I have offered a fair price in the circumstances.’

‘You know all about coal mines as well as horses now, do you? Once I have a travelling engine up and running, that old wagon-way could be highly desirable.’

‘I can tell when a man seeks to take advantage. Travelling engines are notoriously unreliable.’ Brett regarded Clare. At university, Clare had gone on and on about this investment and that investment, always seeking to further his own ends. ‘I want the land for the view over the Tyne. Not that you would understand that. The pursuit of pleasure is nothing compared to the pursuit of wealth. Wasn’t that what you proclaimed on the staircase? That first day at Cambridge?’

Clare made a disgusted noise. ‘You have a better memory than I. Is this derisory sum your final offer?’

‘It is a fair sum. Consider it. That is all I ask.’ Brett reached for the brandy again, preparing to pour Clare a glass. He and Clare were neighbours after all. They would have to put Cambridge behind them. ‘I enjoyed speaking with your sister when we met at your house.’

‘And spoke to her again on the High Street.’ Clare crossed his arms and glowered. ‘What sort of game are you playing at, Coltonby?’

‘We were introduced in London. I had no idea at the time she was your sister. She is somehow much more…’

‘Refined? Is that the word you were searching for? My sister was educated at a ladies’ academy. She is young enough not to remember how my father had to scrimp and save for every penny.’

‘Convivial was the word I was looking for.’ Brett permitted a smile to cross his face. ‘It would have been vulgar of me to cut her. Don’t you agree, Clare? I do despise vulgarity.’

A muscle in Clare’s cheek twitched. ‘I know what you and your kind are like. You are trying to use her.’

‘Am I?’ Brett managed to hang on to his temper. ‘Pray tell me how.’

‘My sister is a lady. Remember that.’

Brett stared at the man in astonishment. ‘Tell me how I have behaved inappropriately.’

‘I know what you’re like. I remember you and your deeds from Cambridge.’ Clare leant forward. ‘Your business is with me. Keep away from my sister. You are not fit company for her.’

Clare stalked out. The door slammed behind him.

‘And what will you do if I keep company with her? How will you stop me? What price will you be prepared to pay?’ Brett asked quietly in the empty room. ‘Will you sell me the land? No, you will give the land to me, Clare.’

If ever there was a woman who needed a bit of romance and flirtation in her life, it was Miss Clare. All Ladywell society would thank him if she abandoned her hideous caps. He would do it. It would prove a challenge. But in the end, Simon Clare would surrender.

Brett raised his glass. ‘To this week’s quarry—Miss Diana Clare.’

Chapter Four

Diana balanced the empty basket on her hip. When she had started out this morning, it had been full to the brim with gifts for the sick, and hard to carry, but after visiting the miners’ cottages down by the wagon-way, it weighed hardly anything. It had been a productive morning concentrating on other people’s problems and once again her mind was free from outlandish thoughts.

‘Miss Clare, wait a moment and I will walk with you.’ Lord Coltonby called from where he stood, chatting with one of the farm labourers. His hat was slightly pushed back and his cane dangled from his fingertips. The cream of his breeches outlined his legs perfectly. He seemed so entirely different from the men who surrounded him and yet he appeared perfectly at ease.

Diana shielded her eyes. She could hardly cut him now that he had called out. She attempted to ignore the sudden thump of her heart. She had nothing to fear here, not with all the children running about the lane and playing in the dust. ‘Lord Coltonby, what a surprise. I did not think to find you here. That is, Sir Cuthbert never came here if he could help it.’

Lord Coltonby covered the distance between them in a few strides of his long legs. ‘I believe you and my tenants will discover that I am a very different sort of landlord. Crop rotation, corn yields and stock breeding excite my interest. I vowed a long time ago that I would not be an absentee landlord when I came into an estate, but instead would nurture it. The land responds to care and attention.’

‘Then you plan on doing the repairs to the east cottages?’ Diana asked, unable to disguise the scepticism in her voice. The answer was far too pat and too easy. Care and attention indeed. Sir Cuthbert had never given a jot about his tenants. ‘A number of the miners and their families rent rooms there. I quizzed Sir Cuthbert about the repairs, but despite his assurances, nothing was done.’

‘Repairs cost money.’

‘Having unlivable hovels costs even more in the long run—the landowner has a duty towards his tenants.’

‘Quite so.’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And I am here to see my buildings. Please judge me on my own merits, Miss Clare.’

‘And have you? Have you seen what needs to be done—the holes in the roofs and the smoking chimneys?’ Diana asked quickly before her courage failed. She had seen the conditions that the people lived in. Concern for other people and their welfare had been her salvation. She knew that.

‘I have never shirked my responsibilities, Miss Clare.’ He held up his hand, preventing her from saying anything more. ‘Sir Cuthbert was not overly concerned with his estate and his manager was incompetent. We can agree on that. It is in far worse shape than he led me to believe. Give me time to put things right and I am certain you will be pleasantly pleased with the situation.’

‘Are you saying that you would not have taken the estate if you had known?’ Diana shifted the basket to her other hip. A shiver ran down her back. She was not sure why the thought alarmed her.

‘I always enjoy a challenge, Miss Clare. It saves me from getting bored.’

‘And boredom is undesirable?’

‘You are only leading a half-life, if you have a safe existence.’ His eyes flashed steel. ‘In order to live, you need to take risks.’

‘Ah, does that mean you will be leaving soon?’

‘I believe that Ladywell Park offers me enough challenges for the present.’ Lord Coltonby stopped by an apple tree. He picked two apples off the branch hanging over the road, and offered one to her. Diana took the fruit with trembling fingers and held it while he took a large bite of his. ‘I dislike predicting the future. It can change in an instant.’

Diana rapidly placed the apple in her basket, resisting the temptation. ‘Sir Cuthbert always hated being here after he had had a taste of London. The attractions of the city can exert a strong pull.’

‘Sir Cuthbert and I are not alike.’ He took another large bite of his apple. ‘My primary interest is racing, Miss Clare, the breeding and the running of horses. It is how I earn my crust of bread. Northumberland grass is sweet. The air is clean. The purses and plates are rich because the local landowners have the coin from coal. It is a simple equation.’

‘Everyone in the village will be glad that something is being made of Ladywell Park. It was once a prosperous estate.’

‘It will be again. Better than before. I intend to build a new house overlooking the Tyne. I have had plans for such a house drawn for a very long time.’ Brett finished his apple and tossed away the core. ‘I made a vow once.’

‘Which is why you wish my brother to sell you the land?’ Diana inclined her head. The reason for Lord Coltonby’s attention was now clear. He thought she could exert some influence over Simon. She should have guessed. The knowledge made her both relieved and vaguely disappointed. ‘I am very sorry, Lord Coltonby, but I have no say over what my brother does.’

His eyes widened slightly. ‘How did you know I was going to ask you?’

‘It stands to reason. Simon was in a frightful temper when he returned home last night.’

‘I would consider it a great personal favour if you would at least speak to him.’ He paused. ‘We shared a landing at Cambridge and it was not successful. I fear he holds my youthful indiscretions against me.’

‘My brother keeps his personal feelings out of business.’

‘Does he?’ Lord Coltonby’s lips twisted upwards. ‘I wonder if that is a good thing, or not.’

‘He never consults me on such things.’ Diana tightened her grip on the basket. The conversation was meandering down an unexpected path and she had no wish to repeat the High Street incident. ‘Now tell me, is the grass really that much sweeter than Warwickshire? Does the location give you that much advantage? Everyone in Ladywell will want to know.’

‘Much.’ His eyes grew grave. ‘Racing horses is my passion. When I race, I race to win. And I want to be where the biggest purses are.’

‘I will remember that.’ She gave an uneasy laugh. ‘I doubt we will have the occasion to race or even to pit our wits against each other.’

‘You never know. You might enjoy it.’ The words poured out of him, smooth as velvet. She could almost feel them stroking her skin. ‘Are you issuing challenges now, Miss Clare?’

‘No.’ Diana forced her chin to rise and refused to let him see her discomfort. He was trying to unsettle her, that was all. She tried to ignore how silent the track had become and how the sounds of the children playing were now quite distant. ‘If nothing else, London taught me caution. I found it hard to credit how many inappropriate suggestions were put to me before Algernon was cold in the ground. Good day to you, Lord Coltonby.’

She took several steps and then felt his hand on her elbow, preventing her from leaving. His breath fanned her cheek, warming it. Diana kept her body still and concentrated on a stone in the road. ‘Let me go.’

‘I can only apologise for the crassness of Songbird’s brethren, but you mistook my meaning.’ His voice became clipped, his eyes chilled. ‘I would never use such a stratagem to force a woman to do anything that she did not want to do. You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Clare, with or without your spinster’s cap.’

She knew the combination of her current gown and cap made her look bilious and forty. Even Simon had remarked on its ugliness. She had been pleased with this before, but suddenly she wanted Lord Coltonby to look at her in a different way. A faint tremor went through her. It was as if she had opened Pandora’s box and all thoughts and desires she had tried to suppress or hide rushed out in one fell swoop. Maybe she was wanton after all. Maybe all this attraction was coming from her. Maybe her cap no longer protected her. Maybe it never had. No, it had to. It was just further back on her head than she would wish.

Diana jerked the ribbons of her cap hard. The right-hand ribbon and half the cap came away in her hand. Her insides turned over and the stain of humiliation flooded on to her cheeks as she saw the gleam in his eyes.

‘It still does not suit you. Heed my advice, Miss Clare—get rid of the cap. Better yet, burn it. A truly determined suitor would take no notice in any case. It only gives the illusion of protection.’

The man was insupportable. How dare he say such things! Her cap was important. It kept her safe. It showed the world that she was a lady, that she was not in the market for a husband. She would have to repair the cap immediately. ‘Illusion of protection?’

‘I once knew a man who swore that a certain rabbit’s foot would keep him from illness and ruinous debts. He paid a tremendous amount for it. He even cajoled me into returning to a nest of thieves and cut-throats to retrieve it after he had been injured in a fight and could not leave his bed. I tried once and was beaten back, but the pleas of the man only increased as he begged me to help him. Bagshott had suggested caution and to forget it, but I opted for the bold approach and retrieved the item. I had promised, you see.’

‘And what happened to the man after…?’

‘My brother died of typhoid with the rabbit’s foot clutched tightly between his fingers. And he was in the process of removing to the Continent to escape his creditors.’