Notorious Deception (16 page)

“You will be a perfect wife, Diana,” he said reassuring her.

She turned her head aside, knowing she would not be able to gaze into his eyes without losing complete control of her magnified emotions.

“I am very confused, Derek,” she said honestly. “And scared.”

Derek leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I know, my love.” He gathered her up in his arms and held her close. “I know only this, Diana. I love you, and I will have you for my wife.”

Diana smiled despite the gravity of the situation. “You sound very confident, my lord.”

Confident, he thought. Perhaps determined was a better word. Derek sat quietly holding her, trying to think of a way to break through her defenses. The strange thing was he understood her reluctance all too well. He too had vowed never again to risk his heart. But he could no more stop the tide of love he felt for Diana than he could hold back the wild, pounding sea. And he told her just that.

“We were meant to be together, Diana,” he said. “Once you come to accept that, we will be able to begin our wonderful life together.”

“I need some time, Derek,” she whispered.

“Naturally,” he agreed, pleased she was no longer refusing him outright. “If you decide quickly, however, we can be married at that charming little church in the village before we leave for Chippenham.”

“Chippenham? Why on earth do you want to go there?”

“For legal purposes,” he explained vaguely.

“I see,” Diana muttered softly. Her gentle brown eyes had grown as big as saucers.

“Since we must leave here for a while, I rather like the idea of traveling together as man and wife. Don't you agree?”

“Derek,” she screeched, jumping up from her perch. “You just promised to give me some time to think about all of this.”

“I am giving you time,” he replied with false innocence.

She wrinkled her brow at him. “How can I possibly consider leaving here soon?” she exclaimed. “I have only just arrived. And there are countless matters that demand my immediate attention.”

He looked down at her. True, he had agreed to give her time to make her decision, and he had every intention of honoring his promise. Yet it was essential Diana understand he was still in control of the situation.

“The danger is very real here, Diana. You must remain under my protection until I have determined you are no longer at risk. We need to travel to Chippenham to obtain a copy of your marriage lines to Giles to establish a legal claim to your properties. I will not leave here without you.” Derek gave her a concerned look, trying to gauge her reaction. “We shall set out in a fortnight. That should give you sufficient time to organize your affairs and set the plans in motion for the rebuilding of Snowshill Manor.”

With that said, Derek reached down, kissed her long and hard, then turned away.

Diana stared breathlessly at his retreating back, her mind whirling. “I will have you know that I don't much care for your exceedingly arrogant manner, my lord,” she shouted at him, her lips still tingling from his kiss. “I will also remind you, sir, I have not yet agreed to any of this.”

“A fortnight, Diana,” he bellowed as he walked away, not once glancing back at her. “We can return to Cornwall as soon as our business is concluded.” And then to her total chagrin, she heard him start to whistle a bawdy tune just as he vanished from her field of vision.

They were, by far, the longest two weeks of Diana's life. Derek treated her with total kindness and infinite patience, which only served to heighten her confusion. He also proceeded to charm each and every one of the members of the tightly knit community he came in contact with. By the end of the second week even Mavis Potter, who had been the most wary of the lot, thought he was a perfect gentleman and the ideal husband for Lady Diana.

The more everyone grew to like him, the more suspicious Diana became. Giles too had been charming before they were married. What would prevent Derek from turning into a monster once they were wed? Diana would lie awake in bed at night, her mind running rampant imaging all sorts of horrors occurring if she were Derek's wife and under his control. Only until she was perched on the very edge of sanity did Diana catch herself, and then she would spend her final waking hours desperately trying to clear her mind of those ridiculous thoughts.

Derek was nothing like Giles. Derek loved her. Derek cared about her. He protected her. And she loved him maddeningly. Yet that was the rub. Diana was too insecure to trust her own instincts and too much in love with Derek to believe her heart could be objective.

On the day prior to their departure for Chippenham, Diana left her dressmaker's shop in haste. She was scheduled to meet the architect from St. Ives at the Rose and Crown Inn at two o'clock and it was already half past one. If she hurried to the inn, she might be able to gobble down a quick luncheon before the meeting.

Diana was annoyed at having to waste a part of her last day in town having new garments fitted, but it could not be avoided. Her only surviving gowns were black mourning dresses. She had no clear notion of how long she would be gone from the village and Diana was determined to bring along a variety of gowns. She had no intention of ever again being reduced to wearing only two black gowns for days on end.

In defiance of convention, Diana instructed Mrs. Lowell, the seamstress, to sew several new gowns for her in soft pastels. Diana still wore her mourning black while in the village, but she decided to forsake her widow's weeds once she left town. It would serve no purpose to continue with the hypocrisy of wearing black in honor of her dead husband. Giles had shown her neither honor nor respect during his lifetime. She owed nothing to his memory.

As Diana crossed the quiet street, she spied a boisterous group of men leaving the Rose and Crown. She did not at first recognize Derek, but when she heard his distinctive laugh clearly, her heart raced. She wondered frantically if he had seen her. She simply wasn't up to another one of his charming assaults on her senses. He was methodically wearing down her resistance, and these days only a few minutes spent in his company were sufficient to rattle her.

Today, however, Diana needed to be in full possession of her wits for her upcoming meeting at two o'clock. The architect had reluctantly agreed to take on the redesigning of her new house, and he had to travel a fair distance to see her. The very least she owed the man was a clear mind and her undivided attention.

Despite the fact that she was appalled at her lack of courage, Diana slipped down a narrow alley and practically ran to the side entrance of the nearby church. She opened the door and slid inside, wondering gloomily how long she would have to hide in there.

“Have you come to post banns today?” a familiar male voice whispered in her ear.

Diana let out a startled cry and whirled around to confront Derek. She shot him a scathing look, but did not respond to his question.

Derek took her silence in good humor. Nothing much seemed to bother him these days. Diana had not totally accepted the idea of becoming his wife, but the earl knew it was only a matter of time. He was a patient man, confident in the eventual outcome of the matter, and to his mind, Diana was a prize well worth waiting for.

Standing beside her in the church, Derek noticed at once that Diana was dressed in a new frock, and although it was the customary black, it flattered her coloring and figure. The tightly fitted bodice outlined the lovely curves of her bosom, and the lacy, high-ruffled collar accented her graceful neck. He resisted a strong impulse to lean down and kiss her soft lips, knowing it would only make her wary and confused.

Derek turned his attention from Diana and surveyed the interior of the church with distracted interest. It seemed to him everything he encountered in Cornwall during his visit was ancient and mysterious and had a story or legend attached to it. This lovely medieval church was no exception, he decided, as his eyes came to rest on an unusual carving on the side of a chair.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing to the chair, on the side of which was a carved figure of a mermaid looking into a mirror while combing her long hair.

“That is the mermaid chair,” Diana said in a hushed whisper. “According to legend, a beautiful woman used to sit at the back of this church each Sunday, captivated by the voice of the squire's son as he led the congregation in hymns. Eventually, she enticed him to accompany her to the sea, and the pair set off to Pendour Cove, which many locals refer to as Mermaid's Cove. Anyway, they were never seen again, although 'tis said that on warm summer evenings they can be heard singing a ghostly duet.”

“What a haunting tale,” Derek said softly.

He gave Diana a hungry look, and she swayed unconsciously toward him, but caught herself before melting in his arms.

“I thought you were going to spend the afternoon at the manor house,” Diana snapped at him, irritated by her lack of self-control.

Derek had been spending the majority of his days working at the manor. Diana felt both shocked and proud when she left the safety of the rose garden the morning he proposed and encountered him, stripped down to his fine cambric shirt, working side by side with her laborers clearing away the debris from the fire.

That gesture had gone a long way in endearing him to the men of the village. When it was later discovered Derek had been an army officer and had fought the French under Wellington's command, his status among the men rose to near sainthood.

“I thought I might join your meeting with the architect this afternoon,” Derek said. “Elizabethan design has always been something of a hobby of mine.” When she frowned, he tactfully added, “That is, unless you have any objections?”

“How do you know about my meeting?” Diana asked, suspicious of him again.

“Simpson informed me,” Derek responded casually. “He thought I might be interested in hearing about the design plans for my future home.”

Not Simpson too, Diana thought with a groan. Why was it that everyone, except her, had so readily accepted her marriage to Derek? Diana forced herself to remain calm when she spoke again.

“It is not your house, Derek. It is my house. Besides, even if I did marry you, I cannot believe you would want to live out here in such a remote area,” Diana muttered peevishly. “Don't you have other residences?”

“Several,” Derek said. “I inherited them along with the earldom. The Harrowby ancestral manor is a rambling old castle. Even as a boy I remember thinking it was dank, drafty, and cold. Parts of the original structure are still standing, reputed to have been constructed during the reign of William the Conqueror. I've never much cared for the old mausoleum.”

“There must be other places?”

“Two country houses, a cottage in Brighton, and of course the London town home, which you have already seen,” Derek said.

“I am sure you would prefer living in those houses rather than out here in Cornwall,” Diana said.

“That all depends,” Derek said.

“On what?”

“Where you want to live,” Derek said simply. “You see, my dear, I would even be content staying at the old caretaker's cottage if that would make you happy.”

Diana gave an audible sigh at his sincerity. He was unshakable in his determination to win her. Why could she not just accept her good fortune gracefully?

“I could be your mistress, Derek,” she said without thinking.

Diana clutched at the lapels of his navy blue jacket and spoke quickly, almost desperately, before she lost her nerve. Even the darkening scowl on his face did not deter her. “No, please listen to me, Derek. There is no need for us to marry. When you return to London, you can locate a suitable place for me to live. I'll stay in London with you until the manor is rebuilt, and then we can travel to Cornwall together. When you decide you have had enough of the rustic Cornish life, I'll follow you away from here, no matter where you go. I promise I'll stay with you, Derek. That is, for as long as you want me.”

Derek gazed down at her. “Cornwall is not a very convenient place to keep a mistress, love,” he said lightly.

Diana turned her head away, her cheeks warm. My God, what had come over her? She had just made a most indecent proposal to the man she loved. Inside a church, for pity's sake. She was so confused.

“It is going to be all right,” he told her gently. “I love you, Diana.”

“We're going to be married, aren't we, Derek?” she whispered, her voice quavering as tears trickled down her face.

“Yes, we are.”

“I'm very frightened of that.” She sniffed loudly, and then whispered fearfully, “You will wait, won't you, Derek? You will wait until I am ready?”

“I will wait, love,” he said with infinite kindness. “No matter how long it takes.”

 

Three days later Diana stood in front of St. Michael's Church in Chippenham. Her eyes scanned the tall pinnacle towers and projecting gargoyles as her mind searched for a clear memory of the building. She couldn't forget that this was the church where she had said her wedding vows with Giles, and she began to tremble.

“There is no need to go through with this, Diana,” Derek said. “I can escort you back to the inn and return alone later to speak with the vicar.”

She shook her head. “I must do this, Derek,” she said, starting up the stone steps before losing her nerve. He followed quickly on her heels.

They were greeted at the door by the vicar, who was donning his hat in preparation for leaving the church. He was much younger than the vicar who had married her, and Diana knew immediately this man was not the same man who had presided over her vows with Giles. She was momentarily deflated at not being able to locate an eyewitness to the event, yet she was astute enough to realize even if it were the same vicar, it was possible he would not remember her wedding ceremony. That would be even more distressing.

Given that fact, Diana felt their arrival at the church couldn't have been timed better. The vicar was obviously in a rush and would not have time to question the unusual request of two strangers too closely. However, now that she was faced with the task, Diana was hard pressed to put her request into words. She could hardly tell the vicar the true circumstances of her visit, and yet she loathed the idea of lying to him.

Derek saved her from having to make a choice by suddenly intervening.

“Good afternoon,” Derek said pleasantly. “I am Derek Rutledge, Earl of Harrowby, and this is Lady Diana.” Derek shook hands enthusiastically with the vicar. “We have traveled here today on a most urgent and confidential matter concerning a member of our family. We were hoping, sir, you would be able to assist us.”

Both Derek's title and conspiring tone caught the vicar's immediate attention.

“I am Reverend Brenton,” the vicar replied pleasantly. “I shall be pleased to help you, if I can, my lord.”

“Splendid!” Derek exclaimed. Then Diana and he followed the vicar into the vestibule, which afforded them some measure of privacy. “Four years ago, Reverend Brenton, my cousin was married in a private service at this church. His unexpected death has caused our family innumerable difficulties, since his personal papers were left in total disarray and are scattered in various locations. Somehow, in all the confusion, his marriage lines have been misplaced. I was hoping it would be possible for us to see the church register so we may copy down all the necessary details.”

“The register,” the vicar repeated, clearly disappointed. “Naturally you may read the register, my lord.”

Reverend Brenton swiftly located the appropriate book and waited impatiently while Diana began leafing through the pages.

Derek noted the clergyman's restlessness. “Please don't let us keep you from your business, sir,” he said, hoping the vicar would seize the opportunity and leave them alone.

Reverend Brenton hesitated. “If you are sure that I can be of no further assistance, my lord?”

“You have been most helpful, sir,” Derek said, escorting him down the center aisle of the church. “We are indebted to you for your kindness this afternoon.”

The vicar left and Derek returned to Diana's side. She continued with her task, her hands trembling as she turned each page in the book. He stepped back, allowing her to read through the register in privacy.

“Derek?” she called out faintly.

“Have you found it?” he demanded, moving close to her side.

“No,” she whispered. “I must have missed it. Please will you look?”

He leaned over the large leather-bound book and began reading. “What was the date again?”

“September 3, 1814.” Several long minutes past. Then Diana said bleakly, “It isn't there, is it?”

“No, it isn't, sweetheart,” Derek replied in a calm voice. “And I'm afraid I know the reason why.”

Diana closed her eyes and waited several horrible seconds for Derek to call her a liar. At this point he certainly would be justified since she was unable to prove the existence of her marriage.