The Aim of a Lady (2 page)

“You were a patient to her. She has cared for a vast array of sick people at the Park and in the village as well, when necessary.”

“That duty is usually reserved for married women.”

“Ellis, there is nothing unfeminine about Diana. On the other hand, there is nothing missish about her either. She is just not like other women. I have told you we will drop the idea of promoting a match between the two of you. Get some sleep and I will have dinner brought up to you later.”

Since the two rapidly consumed glasses of brandy were already dulling the pain and making it difficult for Alma to concentrate on his friend’s voice, he fell asleep immediately after George left. But he had dreams of being attacked by red Indians, with arrows sticking all about his body, and he woke in the dimming light of evening in a sweat.

Chapter Two

“I would like to know why you were using hunting arrows,” George remarked to his sister when they were seated at their meal. He continued to dissect his sturgeon with enthusiasm but his gaze on her was quizzical.

“They have a different weight about them. It is all very well to be accurate with the target arrows, George, but it would be remiss of me to never achieve the same level of competence with a hunting arrow. They were the smallest we have. Did Lord Alma say something?” She raised her troubled hazel eyes from her plate to meet his.

“I am sure he has not the slightest idea of the difference and I did not find it necessary to enlighten him. But it will take some time for the wound to heal and it will leave quite a scar. I pray you will not use them again.”

“Very well. It made little difference in my scoring in any case.” They were silent for a while and then she asked, “Does he stay long?”

“I cannot be sure. He certainly won’t be able to go anywhere soon.”

“No, he will be most uncomfortable for some time. I
am
sorry, George.”

“I know you are. It was unfortunate, but Ellis says he will try to harbor no ill will. How did Rogue get onto your range?”

“I had locked him in the stable, but Jenkins says one of the boys gave in to his piteous cries and released him to play with him. Of course, he took off after me immediately. It was just a series of misadventures,” she sighed as she sipped her wine, her forehead puckered in a frown.

“No matter. The problem will be to keep Ellis entertained, since he will not be able to ride. Have you any suggestions?” His brown eyes lightly mocked her.

“I could teach him to shoot a bow and arrow,” she offered mischievously.

“I doubt he would be interested.”

“When he is bored enough he might change his mind,” she replied seriously. “Oh, he might like to fence with you or me. I seldom have anyone as an opponent with you away so often.”

“I have not taken care of you as I ought,” George admitted, “But since you do not wish to go to London..."

“Don’t be absurd. I am not complaining of your absence. I would no more keep you here than allow you to carry me off to town. There is no sense in my going to London when I would only pine for the Park. I have my friends and my interests here, George, and you have yours elsewhere, though I know you love the Park as dearly as I do.”

Her brother watched the dusk gathering outside the dining parlor window, softening the shapes of the trees until they blended with the sky. He was of average height, where Diana was very small, but they had the same brown hair. His countenance, with a straight nose and calm brown eyes, rarely varied from easy good humor. “I am thinking of marrying, Diana.”

Her hazel eyes met his, unwavering and calm. “I have expected that you would some day. Do I know the lady?”

“No, for I only met her in town in the fall. I have not approached her as yet. She’s Lord Franston’s youngest, Alonna. Several things have come up which have kept me from town, so I have not seen her as often as I would have liked.” George made an impatient gesture with his fork. "It may be that she will not have me, of course."

“Nonsense. Tell me about her.” Diana indicated to the footman that she had finished her meal and sat back in her chair with an interested expression on her countenance. Her brown hair gleamed in the candlelight and her high cheekbones accentuated the delicacy of her features. She was a tiny woman, plainly dressed, but glowing with health from outdoor living.

George contemplated the glass of wine in his hand and attempted to describe Alonna. “She is taller than you, and a few years younger, with blond hair and blue eyes. Rather pretty, I think, but she would never be the season’s beauty. She dances well and has the usual accomplishments.” He shrugged helplessly. “Lord, I don’t know how to describe her, Diana."

“Does she share your interests? Can you talk to her easily? Does she prefer life in the country or in town?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, fingering a gold fob absently. “I think the reason I have considered marrying her is because I can talk to her. She doesn’t want for sense. I have not visited her in Hampshire as yet, but she speaks of the country fondly. Yet she is at home in the city as well, though she is inexperienced in society. I think you will like her.”

“I am sure I shall. But, George, you must remember what we decided long ago in the event of your marrying. I shall move into the Dower House so that you may have the Park to yourselves.” There was no trace of sadness or anger in her voice or countenance.

“Hardly something we decided. You have always proclaimed that you would do so, and I have never seen the least need. Besides, everything is far from being settled.”

“I see what it is,” she taunted. “You wish for me to make a scene so that you may reconsider your decision and martyr yourself to your sister!”

His brown eyes lit with appreciative mockery. “What it is, Diana, is that I fear I am too old to marry such a child. She is very trusting and open, and I am not sure that I should not offer for someone a little more...experienced. Alonna is not just out of the schoolroom you understand. She must be close on twenty. Lady Franston died a year ago and had been ill for some time before that, so Alonna has only recently been brought to town.”

“You are only five-and-thirty, George. Would you like for me to come to town with you to meet her?”

“Heaven forbid! Though I had thought of it,” he said sheepishly, “and I had intended to leave for town with Ellis in a few days.” He frowned uncertainly. “I do not like to leave him here alone with you, Diana, but I have begun to feel rather...anxious to speak with Alonna.”

“Are there others paying court to her?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, and I do not like to leave her in doubt of my intentions any longer than is strictly necessary.”

“Lord Alma will not like it, but I fear you must go. I shall keep him entertained until he’s ready to depart.” She rose to leave him and placed a hand affectionately on his arm. “I wish you well, George.”

“Thank you. I would stay a few days, but I had a letter today from Cranmer...well, I shall speak with Ellis.”

* * * *

Lord Alma was aghast. “You do not intend to leave me here with your sister? No, that’s too much, George. Who will play propriety for her? Or do you intend to trap me into marrying her?” he asked bitterly, a hand creeping gingerly toward his aching bottom.

George gave a snort of laughter. “I assure you, Ellis, that my sister does not concern herself overmuch with such matters as propriety, but I will have Mrs. Lewis from the village come in to stay if it will calm your overwrought nerves. I really must go to town.” His troubled frown was not ignored by his friend.

“Oh, never mind me. I’m wallowing in self-pity just now because you have not as yet had my dinner sent up,” Alma reminded him with a grin.

George lifted a brow in query. “Someone must have come and found you asleep.” He rang and gave instructions for his friend’s meal. “I know it is rude of me to desert you, and I had no intention of doing so, but Cranmer’s letter indicated that Lord Vallert is buzzing about Alonna rather seriously, and I should kick myself if I missed my chance.”

“There will be other ladies,” Alma retorted philosophically.

George shook his head slowly. “If so, I wonder that I have met no one in the last fifteen years that I considered marrying.”

“Oh, go to London, you gudgeon,” Alma said gruffly. “I shall manage very well here, I have no doubt. How long do you suppose it will be before I can ride?”

“Several weeks, I should think, before it’s comfortable. Diana offered to teach you to shoot a bow and arrow.”

“Has she no tact, either?” asked his exasperated friend.

“Enough, I should think. She fences, too.”

Alma regarded him perplexedly. “Do you fence with her?”

“Yes, but not very often. She’s a beginner and would not provide much sport for you, but she’s eager to develop the skill.”

“George, I thought you told me she was not unfeminine."

George smiled benignly down at him. “When you see her in her fencing outfit...well, forget it. Perhaps it is well that you will not.” The invalid’s meal arrived then, and there was some debate as to the easiest manner in which for him to eat it. Chagrined, he eventually did so while standing up.

George rang for a deck of cards and the two men played an awkward game of piquet after Alma finished his meal. The wounded man lay on his stomach on his bed, wrong way about, and the cards were placed on the counterpane. The inconvenience of his posture began to tell on Alma’s nerves after a while and he pushed the cards away from him with annoyance.

“I think I had best return to Stillings tomorrow, George.”

“I understand how you feel, old man,” his friend agreed sympathetically, “but it really cannot be done— even in a carriage. Diana will keep you amused. And if you think of her as a younger brother you will not feel so blue-devilled. It was a mistake to bring you here,” he sighed, “and I would not have done so, except that when it actually came to my considering marriage I thought perhaps Diana would be comfortably settled first. But she has had sufficient opportunities and I should have left well enough alone. She tells me she intends to move into the Dower House if I marry, and it does not appear to trouble her in the least. In fact, she seemed genuinely pleased that I had found someone I wanted to marry. You have no pressing engagements, have you?”

“No, nothing of moment.” Alma drew his hand through his black hair absently. His black brows above intensely blue eyes were expressive of his emotions, and they were now drawn up in self-mockery. He ran a hand gently over his aching wound. “I am in some pain, George.”

“Lord, why did you not say so?” George rose abruptly and gathered the cards together. “I shall have Diana bring you some laudanum right away.”

“Has my man arrived with my clothing?”

“Yes, while you were asleep. Shall I send him to you?”

“Please. And do not bother your sister—my man can take care of me.”

“As you wish. I shall speak with you before I leave in the morning. I regret the inconvenience to you, Ellis.”

“I appreciate your understatement, Savile. I shall remember in future to accept any invitations to your home with great caution.” His sardonic tone did not obscure the fact that his face was pinched with pain, and his host hastened to send for his valet.

When Rodgers arrived, George bid his friend sleep well and slipped out the door into the candle-lit hall. He felt restless and in need of company, so he asked where his sister might be found and joined her in the music room. She was seated at the harpsichord playing a haunting tune of the countryside. George seated himself comfortably on the upholstered settee and closed his eyes until she had finished the piece.

“Is something the matter, George?” Diana asked with concern.

“I cannot shake the feeling...no, nothing is wrong. Ellis is having some pain but his man has gone to him. I am leaving in the morning, Diana. I told Ellis I would have Mrs. Lewis come in while he is here for the sake of appearance. You will not mind?”

“No, she’s a dear soul. Do not delay yourself; I will go to her in the morning. Come, sing with me a while.”

Diana started to finger a more cheerful song and her brother joined his voice with hers. The strains of their music reached Alma in his bedchamber as he drifted into a restless sleep.

Chapter Three

“No, Papa, there can have been no mistake on Lord Vallert’s part,” Alonna Sanfield said angrily. Her blazing eyes lifted from the announcement in the Herald. “I realize he had your permission to pay his addresses to me, but I did not accept him. It is beyond anything for him to have sent an announcement to the Herald. You will have to have him retract it.”

“Now, now, my dear. Let’s not be hasty. He’s a good young fellow—nice manners, pleasant spoken, plenty of the ready,” he exhorted bluffly.

“I had thought him pleasant enough myself, Papa, until this!” Alonna jumped up from her chair in the breakfast parlor and paced restlessly about the room. “I will not be forced into marrying him just because he has been so rash as to place the announcement. How dare he!”

“You are not getting any younger, Alonna. It is time you were married. You could not do better than Vallert, I assure you,” her red-faced parent blustered. “So he was a trifle premature; it only shows how eager he is."

“It shows how unprincipled he is,” his daughter retorted coldly. “I have not been in town so long as to wear my welcome thin as an unmarried lady in society. My sisters each had sufficient time given them to make a match of their choice, and I hope that you do not intend to rush me into marriage now that Mama is dead.”

Her father had the grace to flush, but a sly gleam entered his eye as he said, “I take it you are waiting for some other young man to come up to scratch, miss.”

Alonna did not allow him to see that he had discomfited her. “I will not marry Lord Vallert after this fiasco, Papa, so you must have him retract the announcement of our engagement.” She walked from the room with all the dignity she possessed.

It would destroy her, she thought. How could he do such a thing? Lord Vallert had recently essayed a whirlwind courtship of her; and she had tried desperately, in her inexperience, to keep him at arm’s length. When he had called to offer for her he had been elegantly dressed and self-assured; her refusal had left him nonplussed. The handsome, aristocratic face had become blank and then flushed. “You cannot understand, Miss Sanfield. I wish for you to be my wife.”