Miss Carlyle's Curricle: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) (6 page)

“I wonder, then, that he did not give you a larger annuity.”

She shook her head. “Uncle Charles was never one to reveal his reasons, and we had never real cause to ask, for our lives had always run smoothly while he was with us. I am sure everyone on the estate thought so.”

“Which makes me seem very much the interloper, I see,” Lord Brisbane said, smiling wryly. “Making it even more difficult to see me as a prospective husband and heir to the estate.”

Diana felt definitely guilty now, but made herself look directly at him. “Yes, that is true, and I am sorry for it. My uncle was held in highest esteem by everyone; it would be difficult to accept the presence of any heir, but to have a complete stranger makes it even more difficult.”

“Held in esteem by everyone? He had no enemies? No detractors?” Lord Brisbane shook his head and put on a morose expression. “I have a great deal to live up to, indeed. Most certainly I shall fail, and the estates will fall to ruin.”

Diana cast him a suspicious look, then laughed reluctantly. “You need not try to pull the wool over my eyes, my lord. I suspect you are quite capable of managing this estate, and it is no doubt one reason my uncle saw fit to want you to marry me.”

He raised his brows in question. “And how do you know?”

“I am honest enough to admit you are more perceptive than I had given you credit for. You talked of business—I suppose you were not precisely an idle man, for your hands are not as smooth as I suppose a dandy’s might be. Since your clothes are of a fine cut, I imagine your business endeavors were successful. I suspect you were in trade; you seem to be familiar with the making of carriages, or at least woodworking of some kind. Then you mention you were familiar with illnesses and healing.” She smiled slightly. “I imagine you must be engaged in some sort of merchant shipping. Such a business would at once give a man the opportunity for making a fortune”—she gestured at his Bath superfine coat—“thus enabling him to buy whatever he wishes in clothes, and give him the opportunities to learn of ships and their construction. The illnesses and healing—one would have to be more self-reliant regarding these things if one had to travel to foreign lands.”

“Well, well.” Lord Brisbane rocked back on his heels, then smiled widely. “I congratulate you, cousin; you are correct on all points.
Very
perceptive. I see it would not do to underestimate you.”

Diana grinned. “You are correct, my lord, it would not. Be warned!”

“I am grateful for the warning. You are a formidable woman, to be sure. It is a good thing I had not the intention of asking you to marry me; I had a distinct feeling it would displease you.” His voice was solemn, but she thought she saw his lips turn up for a moment.

“Very
wise of you not to wish to propose to me, for you would be living under the sign of the cat’s foot, and no man could wish a marriage like that.” She shrugged off the feeling of discontent. She had never had a proposal before, why shouldn’t she have one now, even if it had been dictated by Uncle Charles? She turned to leave the carriage house and Lord Brisbane moved in step with her.

“Now there, cousin, your perception has failed you.” He gave her a small, crooked smile. “I wanted to marry you the moment I saw you, and have no fear at all of being henpecked.”

Chapter 4

Diana stumbled, and Lord Brisbane’s hand came up under her elbow to steady her. She stared at him. “You jest, surely.”

“No, alas, I do not.” His smile widened, and his normally sleepy look had fled, replaced by sparkling mischief instead.

“You
are
jesting, and trifling with me,” Diana said, and marched toward the house. “Do not, for I dislike it, and as you said, I am a formidable woman, and could make more trouble for you than you could like.” She could not believe him, of course, but she did not repel him with her words as she could have; an irresistible curiosity as to what he would say next stayed her.

“Behold me trembling,” Lord Brisbane said, his long legs easily keeping up with her.

“Oh, you are odious!” She eyed him sternly. “You cannot have fallen in love with me, not in such a short time.”

“Love at first sight.”

Diana blushed. “Nonsense! There is no such thing.”

Lord Brisbane sighed. “So I thought, myself. But there you were, rain-soaked and beautiful, and I was instantly lost.”

“Lost on the road, not in any other wise,” she retorted. “You are making fun of me, for none of that can be true.”

“Of course it is true. You were definitely rain-soaked.”

“Oh, and you are in the habit of falling in love with rain-soaked women, is that it?”

“Not at all,” Lord Brisbane said. “However, if a woman is beautiful, it would certainly be an incentive.”

She frowned. “Now I know you are hoaxing me. I am not at all beautiful. I am too tall for that.”

“Not for me.”

Diana looked up at him—obviously this was true. “Well . . . well, then, I am not fashionable.”

“Fashion does not make for beauty.”

“Quite the contrary,” she said. “I have had my Season in London, and know that it’s your fashionable sylph who is much feted. Fashion does indeed dictate what is beautiful.” She wrinkled her nose. “I am not sylphlike; therefore I am not beautiful.”

He cocked his head and looked at her. “No one has ever admitted admiring you?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, of course not.”

“More fool they.” He shot a quick, laughing glance at her. “No doubt they were intimidated by your formidableness.”

“I am not—” She stopped and closed her mouth, belatedly remembering that she had indeed agreed she was formidable. She gave him a sour look. “Believe me, I was as meek as my Aunt Matchett could make me.”

“Impossible,” he replied. “Nothing could subdue those magnificently flashing and scornful eyes—are they gray or blue? Blue, I believe.”

“They are pale blue,” Diana said firmly. “And they neither flash nor are they scornful.”

“No? They seem to be, now.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “Only because you are the most provoking man imaginable.”

Lord Brisbane shook his head mournfully. “Worse and worse. First I am odious and now I am provoking. A very good thing I decided not to propose to you; you would have refused me immediately and I would have been cast into abject despair.”

“I doubt it,” Diana replied, banishing a slight feeling of discontent. “Count yourself fortunate: I am persuaded you would not wish to marry a woman you hardly know, and I would much rather live on a pittance than marry a complete stranger.”

His lordship’s expression lightened. “How gratifying to find you are not mercenary and not looking to marry a fortune or a title. Should I ever take it in my head to propose to you, I shall do so in happy confidence that your acceptance would come from your heart.”

“And if I were to decline?”

“There would be nothing for it but I must put a period to my existence,” Lord Brisbane said cheerfully.

Diana stopped, then turned to stare at him, her hands on her hips. “My lord, I think you must be the strangest man I have ever met.”

He appeared to consider her words seriously, then shook his head. “Since your sojourn in London was so short and you have grown up in the country most of your life, I cannot think your experience of men to be very great at all.” He smiled. “I am quite normal, truly.”

He had an answer for everything it seemed, but Diana’s annoyance with him was weak at best. She smiled slightly. This conversation was indeed the most peculiar she had ever had with anyone, but somehow her irritation was mixed heavily with a certain exhilaration. She had never traded quick and spirited words with a man before; her conversations in London had always been awkwardly constrained or excruciatingly polite. Indeed, she noted in surprise, the awkwardness she had felt when she first met this new Lord Brisbane had disappeared.

“You are smiling, I see,” he said. “But I assure you, no one has ever accused me of being odd.”

“Really?” Diana could not help chuckling. “I am surprised, my lord.” She continued walking to the house.

He frowned suddenly, falling into step beside her. “Now
that
is a problem—I am not at all used to being called ‘my lord.’ It makes me feel quite strange, and is no doubt an explanation for my behavior—if, as you say, it
is
strange.”

Diana gave a snort of laughter, only half suppressed when she pressed her hand over her mouth.

“Indeed,” he continued, “every time I hear it, I am hard-pressed not to turn around and look for someone much older and more dignified than I.” He smiled as suddenly as he had frowned and said, “However much I might seem strange to you, in the interests of not being as much of a stranger, I would be honored if you could call me Gavin, cousin.”

She was silent for a moment while he opened the door of the house for her. She felt a little uncomfortable, but he was a cousin, however distantly related, and she felt she should make up for her earlier presumption. She nodded and stepped through the doorway. “Very well . . . Gavin. And you may call me Diana.”

He gazed at her intently for a moment then smiled. “Diana it is, then. Thank you.” And he entered the house behind her.

They had not gone but two steps into the hall when a door opened at the top of the stairs and Mrs. Carlyle appeared.

“There you are!” she exclaimed upon seeing them, and descended the stairs. “I have been searching for you, Mr. Sinc—that is, Lord Brisbane.”

Diana grimaced. “I am sorry, Mama, I forgot that you wished to speak to him—I met him at the carriage house. I should have requested he speak to you immediately.”

Mrs. Carlyle nodded, then hesitated before saying, “My lord . . .”

The earl smiled as he bowed over her hand. “Please, Mrs. Carlyle, the title sits ill on me. I would be pleased if you could call me Gavin.”

Mrs. Carlyle smiled then continued. “Gavin, then. I have been meaning to ask you . . . it is very awkward, for we have no real claim upon you. But if you would be so kind as to let my daughter and me stay for perhaps a month or two, at least until we can find another place to stay, before we leave—”

Gavin’s brows rose. “Leave? Must you? I have been looking forward to your showing me how to go on, for I know none of the servants, as I am sure you must. Indeed, I am a lazy fellow, and would prefer to have as little to do with the running of the household as possible. I was hoping you—and your daughter—would stay and act the hostess for me until such time I acquire a wife.” He glanced quickly at Diana, then returned his gaze to Mrs. Carlyle.

Mrs. Carlyle looked, puzzled, from Diana’s heated face to Lord Brisbane, then said, “Are you looking about you for a wife, then?”

He grinned. “Not particularly, for I believe I have found one that I would like very well, but the set of her mind is such that it will be a while before she can even begin to see me as a prospective husband.” Diana shot him a fulminating look, and wished very much to box his ears.

“Well, you are an earl now, with property, so perhaps that might help persuade her.”

“Alas, no, I have found that such things have little value for the lady. I believe character is of more importance to her.”

“I suppose it is well that she looks for virtue in a husband rather than property,” Mrs. Carlyle replied, “but she must not be very practical if your changed estate is not a consideration.” She paused, looking at Gavin uncertainly. “However, if you are sure you wish Diana and me to stay here until you are married, I shall be happy to act as your hostess meanwhile.”

“Perhaps even beyond that,” Gavin replied.

Mrs. Carlyle smiled wryly. “I doubt that, my lord, unless you intend to comply with the will and ask Diana to marry you, to which—and I mean no offense, sir—she may not agree, being a headstrong young lady.”

Diana could stand it no longer. “I have already told Gavin that I am reluctant to comply with that part of the will and am content to live with the portion already given me, rather than marry a complete stranger,” she said in a suffocated voice. “We really do not need to discuss it further.”

Mrs. Carlyle smiled slightly, and Diana realized that she had used Lord Brisbane’s Christian name without thinking. He was, therefore, not as much of a stranger as before.

Diana groaned. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. This is not a time to think of marriages or that silly condition in the will, and I swear I shall run away to a . . . a convent if you mention anything even close to this subject.”

“Indeed, yes,” Lord Brisbane replied somberly. “Very inappropriate, so soon after such a terrible loss to the family.”

Mrs. Carlyle sighed sadly. “Indeed, and you are right to say so, my lord, for though I am sure my brother-in-law would have disliked all this sad ceremony, it would not be proper to do anything less than the best for him. We shall observe the proper length of time for mourning, and then we shall think of marriages. Meanwhile . . .” She cast Diana an arch look. “Meanwhile, it would be quite appropriate to invite our neighbors to a few dinners or quiet entertainments, so that you may look about you for a prospective wife—and do I assume from your words that you are open to having a wife?”

Diana gritted her teeth.

“Indeed I am, Mrs. Carlyle,” his lordship said. “At the very least, it is my duty.”

“Very proper.” She nodded approvingly. “Well, then, I shall do my best to introduce you to all the good families of our acquaintance.”

“Thank you,” he said gravely.

“And I,” Diana said in as sweet a voice as her vexed temper could summon, “shall make sure every mother of every eligible young lady in this county knows you are looking for a wife. Just think of the hordes and hordes of ladies who will come calling once they know the position of countess is open.”

“Diana!” Mrs. Carlyle remonstrated.

But Lord Brisbane merely smiled pleasantly. “I shall be very grateful, of course.”

Diana gazed at him suspiciously. There was, she thought, just a bit of a challenge in his voice. Very well! He had said she was a formidable woman. He would see how right he was.

***

Lord Brisbane said nothing more of his feelings for her in the succeeding days, and Diana became annoyed at herself for wondering if he would again. Not that she wished him to mention them again; she was not in love with him, so it did not matter. He teased by innuendo, however, gazing at her whenever anyone spoke the words “heart” or “sentiment” or any other word of that sort. It gave her the distinct feeling that he would broach the subject again sometime in the future.

To be honest, she thought it would be pleasant to hear it again, particularly because she had never heard anything remotely close to a proposal from any man. It was a novelty, that was it.

She was not in any way falling in love with him or even fond of him—impossible! They had nothing in common, for he was still a dandy and quite citified, arising late in the morning as was the custom in the city, rather than earlier as was the custom here. His valet, a thin whippet of a man, seemed to disdain the other servants, who were quite in awe of him. It was rumored that he shined his master’s boots with a secretly made bootblack, and that Lord Brisbane would spend at least an hour in front of the mirror perfecting the folds of his neckcloth.

Diana had no use for such vanity and frivolity. Indeed, she had more serious things on her mind: no one had seen McKinney after the day of the accident. She had searched, had asked around the local villages about him, but no one seemed to know what had happened to the head groom. He had a few friends in the village, but they had not seen him; perhaps he had returned to family in Ireland, they said.

It was possible, but Diana did not think that he would have left without taking his leave of her. He had taught her to ride her first horse, and had given her good advice about training them as she grew from child to young woman; indeed, she had come to see him more as a friend than a servant.

She could not ask Sir James, since he had gone to London, not long after the funeral, which frustrated her. If McKinney had gone to Sir James and offered his resignation, then Sir James would have been able to tell her whether he had accepted the resignation or not.

Not even the stablehands knew what had happened to the groom, which seemed exceedingly odd, for McKinney had prided himself in running a tightly organized stable, and never went on holiday without making sure all duties were accounted for. Indeed, he ran the place so well and so unobtrusively that it was no wonder she had not noticed his absence immediately, for the place ran just as smoothly without him. Under his instruction, the other grooms knew exactly what to do, and when. Lord Brisbane seemed satisfied with their service and said the groom just under McKinney—Joe Baggins—was a promising young man and could fill McKinney’s shoes just as well. Since Diana knew Joe had a will of iron and could run the stables efficiently with just a word or two in his gentle voice, she could not protest this appointment. But she felt hurt, no different than if a dear friend had turned his back on her without a word of explanation.