The Willful Widow (11 page)
The Willful Widow
by Evelyn Richardson
done her a grave injustice, and it was time he apologized. Resolving to call on her that very afternoon, he drew up in front of his lodgings, dismounted, sent his horse to the stable, staggered upstairs, and tumbled into bed. When he awoke a good deal later, he was more eager than ever to call in Brook Street. After consuming a huge but belated breakfast, fortifying himself with numerous cups of coffee, followed by a brisk ride through the park, Justin felt invigorated enough to take on the entire world much less a woman who, despite her widowhood, was no more than a mere chit of a girl.
His intended quarry was in the drawing room comfortably curled up on a divan surrounded by piles of newspapers. Boney was sleeping peacefully on her shoulder enjoying the warmth of the ray of sunshine that washed over both of them. Diana was frowning in concentration as she attempted to sort out the finer points of the debate over income tax that was now occupying the House of Lords, and trying to fathom the effect the variety of possible decisions might have on those persons wishing to invest in the funds. It was all extremely complicated, and she was not at all sure she was capable of divining the implications of it all. This sort of speculation seemed the most expedient way to repair her meager finances, but it could be very worrisome. So deep in thought was she that she didn't hear Finchley's knock, nor was she aware of anyone's presence until the butler coughed discreetly and announced in stentorian tones,
"The Lord Justin St. Clair to see you, ma'am." 98
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Aroused unwilling from a pleasant nap, Boney stirred and ruffled his feathers, muttering grumpily, "Insufferable, arrogant man," the customary sounds his quick ear had picked up in connection with the words
Justin St. Clair.
Justin grinned. So now it was Diana's turn to blush with chagrin at the antics of that blasted bird. "Now where do you suppose Bonaparte learned that litany," he wondered aloud.
"Boney is a very clever bird, sir," she replied, a conscious look on her charmingly flushed countenance.
"But not, I think, an independent thinker, eh Boney?" He strolled over to reach out a tentative finger to the feisty gray bird who cocked his head inquiringly, and slowly blinked one eye.
Doing her best to stifle an answering grin as her traitorous pet sidled along her shoulder toward her visitor, Diana continued, "Now that we have succeeded in insulting you, may we know the purpose of your call?"
"Why yes." Justin stroked the iridescent head, which leaned toward him inviting just such attention. "I came to apologize."
"Apologize!" Shaken out of her carefully maintained composure, Diana sat bolt upright, abruptly interrupting Boney's blissful interlude.
"Yes, apologize. You express surprise, but as you do not ask what I am apologizing for, I assume you are still miffed with me."
Diana's eyes darkened. "Miffed is not precisely the word I should choose, furious more like. What right had you, sir, to intrude in my life, to pass judgment on me? What right?" 99
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"None, actually." Justin grinned ruefully. "And that is why I felt I owed you an apology, for I know how I should feel if someone were to force himself into my life and start ordering me about."
There was no resisting his offhand candor. A reluctant smile flickered at the corners of her mouth, but was quickly suppressed. "Yes, you were rather overbearing about it, weren't you?"
"I suppose I was, rather. May I make amends by inviting you and Lady Walden to accompany me to view the collection of Lucien Bonaparte's pictures that will be offered for sale later in the Season? There will also be a public showing just prior to the sale, but Mr. Stanley, knowing that I am particularly fond of the Flemish School, has invited me to view them privately, as there are some very fine pencil sketches by Vandermeer and Jofdaens."
This about-face was rather too much for Diana, and she could not help but wonder what was behind it. The combative attitude previously exhibited by her caller had been all too genuine for this new approach to be equally so, and Diana was wary.
She had no intention of being maneuvered into anything by anyone, whether they did so by browbeating her, deceiving her, or charming her. And furthermore, she was not such a green girl that she did not know something of Justin St. Clair's reputation as a man of considerable address. However, she did not wish to be accused of being farouche either. It was something of a dilemma, and she paused for a 100
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moment examining her possible responses and their implications.
It was Justin who came to her rescue. Seeing her hesitation, he could not help gloating over her discomfiture. At last he took pity on her, offering her an excuse in the most gentlemanly way. "Of course, you must be prodigiously busy, what with Lady Walden as your guest, and undoubtedly, you still have a great deal to do concerning Lord Hatherill's affairs."
It was completely untrue, but Diana seized upon this gratefully, stammering, "Yes, things are still at sixes and sevens. I only go out on the rarest of occasions. However," she added conscientiously, "it is most kind of you." Though it was not in the least kind, she thought resentfully. One could just tell from the faint glint in his eye that he was thoroughly enjoying the disordered state to which he had reduced her. Now she did not know what to think—a most disconcerting feeling for one who had always been entirely sure of herself and her ability to cope with anything.
"Well then, perhaps another time. Actually, all I truly came to do was to acknowledge that I had, to coin a phrase, been an
insufferable arrogant man,
eh Boney, and to see if we couldn't try to be, if not friends, at least not enemies, or perhaps even civil acquaintances, since my nephew holds you in such high esteem."
The man actually seemed sincere and, after all, the quarrel had not been of her making. Diana inclined her head graciously. "Yes, I believe we could." 101
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Justin took her hand, bowing low over it. "I look forward to improving our acquaintance." A quick penetrating glance, and he was gone leaving her to a welter of confused thoughts. Which was the real Justin St. Clair: the arrogant uncle bent on preventing his nephew from making a disastrous mésalliance, the clever banterer who could top one Latin quotation with another, or the man she had met just who seemed to appreciate and sympathize with her? There was no question the man had considerable poise and charm. He had correctly interpreted Boney's remarks with aplomb and had responded with a graceful humor that she could not but admire. And yet ... and yet, Diana still sensed the unstated competition between the two of them that had led her to believe he enjoyed his ability to throw her and gain the upper hand.
Diana had to admit that she was rather looking forward to their next encounter. Though she told herself, it was merely that she disliked being bested by anyone and that she wished to regain her position of superiority, a small voice at the back of her mind was telling her that she enjoyed sparring with Justin and was invigorated by the challenge he offered. Shaking her head, she resolutely banished such unsettling thoughts and reapplied herself with vigor to her reading while Boney, thoroughly bored by this tame response to such an interesting and sympathetic visitor, flew over to cling to the curtain and survey the passing scene in the street below. Justin rode home highly pleased with his conduct. Take that, Lady Diana, he gloated to himself. All the previous times he had tangled with her, she had been in control of the 102
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situation and he had come away feeling like an awkward schoolboy. This time he had the upper hand. While it was entirely true that his impulses were genuine—he had called on Diana to apologize because he truly did wish to be friends with someone who interested and intrigued him as much as she did—he had enjoyed throwing her off balance. Her patent confusion at his abrupt change in tactics had made him experience just the slightest sense of superiority. She had been made uncomfortable by his invitation, and Justin found himself feeling both sorry for her awkwardness and attracted by it. As an articulate woman well able to fend for herself in the world, she challenged him, and he reveled in competing with her. But in the oddest sort of way, her hesitation, which had suddenly made her appear vulnerable, had touched him and drawn him to her in a manner that her undeniable beauty and sophistication had not. Justin, too, looked forward to their next meeting. He did not know in the least what to expect, but he felt sure, knowing the lady, that it was bound to be intriguing.
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Despite his high expectations, Justin could in no way have visualized where he would next encounter Lady Diana Hatherill. In fact. she was the farthest thing from his mind as he rode up in front of the Stock Exchange, dismounted, and tossed a coin to the waiting boy who grabbed Brutus's reins. He was so immersed in mulling over the possible effects the repeal of the income tax might have on the funds, that he didn't even notice the carriage that pulled up behind him, nor would he have even thought any more of it had not two heavily veiled females emerged and allowed themselves to be handed down by the lackey who had rushed to help them. Women, at the Stock Exchange? And they were obviously women of the highest
ton
from the look of their clothes, their equipage, and their bearing. In spite of his own pressing affairs, Justin stopped for a moment to gaze curiously at them before entering to conduct his own business. He was soon so engrossed in the details of a joint stock venture in which he was being invited to participate, that he had entirely forgotten about them by the time he bid good day to Mr. Goldsmith and headed back to collect Brutus. Much to his surprise, as Justin gained the street he again caught sight of the two women deep in conversation with James Capel himself. Curious, he moved closer as unobtrusively as possible. As he approached, the august gentleman bowed low over their hands and, wishing them both good health and prosperity, bid them adieu. The women 104
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thanked him and turned to be helped back into the awaiting carriage. This time, because they had been talking, their veils were lifted, and to Justin's complete astonishment, he recognized Lady Walden and her great-niece.
"Lady Walden, Lady Diana, you here?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. They turned, as taken aback by his presence as he was by theirs.
Diana was the first to recover. "And why should we not be here?" she demanded defiantly.
"Why, no reason, I suppose," he stammered. "It is just that one does not usually think of women in connection with the Stock Exchange."
"And why not, pray tell? Do you think, sir, that women are not capable of entering into such a masculine domain?" Her eyes sparkled dangerously.
"Not at all, Lady Diana, quite the contrary. I was thinking that it takes an extraordinary person to venture alone into such unaccustomed areas as you do." There was not a hint of guile in his voice, nor was there any mistaking the warmth in his tone and the genuine admiration in his eyes.
"Well," she responded in a mollified tone, "financial necessity can give anyone, man or woman, quite an incentive to explore the unknown. After all, great fortunes were never made without great risk."
Despite the bravado of her words, there was such an anxious expression lurking in her eyes that Justin suddenly found himself wanting to help her, to relieve the worries that were behind that look. But all he said was, "It does take a great deal of courage to speculate at a time like this." 105
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"I know," she agreed with a quickly stifled sigh. "What with the abundance of wheat and the lowering of prices, farmers unable to pay bankers and the lack of market for our goods abroad, things look rather grim. I suppose I should be purchasing more shares while they are cheap in the expectation that things will improve, but if they do not, I..." Her voice trailed off as the prospect of losing the very little money she had rose up before her.
I must be mad, Diana thought to herself. Instead of saving Buckland, I could be running myself deeper into debt than I am now for the repairs I just had made to the fences. I could lose everything. "Suffice to say, I stand to forfeit all that I had hoped to save by such speculation," she continued briskly, taking herself severely to task for her temporary lack of nerve.
But Justin had noticed her pause and, reading into it various implications, was oddly touched by all that had been left unsaid. "What you say is of course very true, but I believe this resistance to British goods on the Continent is merely a temporary state of affairs. At the moment, Europe needs to recover from years of war and devastation; but that sort of rebuilding will be accomplished very soon and then they will have money to spend on manufactured articles of which ours are vastly superior to any in the world. At the same time, we are developing markets elsewhere in the world beyond the Continent, so I believe your thinking on this matter to be entirely sound," he hastened to reassure her.
"I only hope you are correct," she replied, but the note of doubt remained.
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"Lady Diana, I am not indulging in idle conjecture, believe me. I spent a good portion of last year on the Continent discussing economic as well as political questions with those who are most informed about such things. Since my return, I have continued to correspond with those whose clarity of vision and opinions I respect highly. Here at home, I have made it my business to acquaint myself with the engineers and inventors who are working to improve our methods of manufacture and transportation as well as the men in trade and banking. The state of affairs may not seem promising at the moment, but I am certain we are on the verge of more prosperous times."
