The Willful Widow (21 page)
Diana sighed resignedly. "I must be all about in the head to let you cozen me so, but one must make sacrifices in the interest of gaining knowledge I suppose." She took some heart from his slightly crestfallen expression, glad to think that she wasn't as easily won over as he had hoped. "And what, precisely did you friend tell you that was of such burning importance?"
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So she still didn't trust him? Justin supposed that he had to agree with her. And after all, he wouldn't really have wanted her to give in without the least demur. "My friend, a capital fellow with finances, Jeremy Southbridge, counseled me to buy shares in waterworks companies."
"Waterworks? But they are competing so fiercely against one another by cutting their rates that scarcely a one of them is making any profit all," Diana protested.
"Just so." Justin couldn't help feeling inordinately proud of her for being so well-informed, though he could no more have said why he should care than he could explain the growing protective feeling that made him wish to help her in any and every way he could. "But Jeremy assures me that the situation has become so acute that there is a movement afoot to divide up the market, so there will be less of that."
"And they will be free to set their rates in their own particular districts," she remarked thoughtfully. "Yes, I see what you mean. It would certainly give me an investment in a slightly different area. And though everything seems to be doing universally poorly at the moment, at least this would be something that is not tied to agricultural prices or the consols." Diana gestured toward the fields visible through the drawing room windows. "Farmer Onslow, who rents my fields, was complaining bitterly about the price of wheat. He expects to get so little for his crops this year that it is hardly worth his while to rent the land at Buckland. And the market for wool is not any better, so even if he or I could afford sheep, it would do us no good." A tiny sigh escaped her and a worried frown wrinkled the smooth white forehead.
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Diana was silent a moment pondering it all, then, with a brisk shake of her head, she went on. "However, there's nothing for it, but to continue as we are and hope that with peace in Europe and a chance for recovery on the Continent, we shall soon have a market over there again. After all, things were in worse straits when Papa died, and I haven't had to sell anything yet. I shall continue to put the meager profits I make into whatever investment looks promising so that I can use the interest to make the necessary repairs around here." A sweep of the hand, accompanied by another sigh hinted at the extent of the work that needed to be done.
"You have set yourself quite a task. Maintaining an estate of any size, much less the magnitude of Buckland, is no small burden. I was always eternally grateful to Alfred for being born first and relieving me of it," Justin replied sympathetically.
Diana nodded. "There is so much to do that at times I do not know where to begin. Papa neglected everything dreadfully—fields, fences, tenants' cottages, the house itself—
everything, that is except the library." No matter how she tried, Diana was unable to keep the acid note from her voice. First the marquess and then Ferdie, both of them irresponsible and spendthrift in his own way, Justin thought to himself. He must have been dicked in the nob to think that she wanted to add Reginald to the list of helpless men who had required such looking after. Once again he was seized by the oddest wish to relieve her of all her burdens, to make up for the deficiencies of all the others, but with someone as capable and independent as Diana, that was no small task. 195
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"I see you have begun by repairing the fences and cottages—very wise, in my humble opinion, for that is likely to provide the quickest return on your investment. I should be most curious to see what else you have done." Diana scrutinized him cautiously, but there was not the slightest hint of guile in his expression. "You would? There is not a great deal to see, but we could take a ride around the estate. Ferdie's horse, Faro, is here and longing for exercise. I try to give him a run now and then, but Ajax becomes unconscionably jealous. It won't take a minute to put on my habit." And with that she was gone, Boney still clinging gamely to her shoulder.
Hearing her mistress disappear upstairs, Mrs. Tottington, who had been keeping a weather eye on the drawing room and its occupants, came bustling in, ostensibly to retrieve the tray, but her face wore the determined expression of someone with a mission. "I don't care if he is a nob," she had declared to Daisy, "he would not be here if he weren't interested in my lady, and I intend to see that he doesn't leave Buckland without being more so." She had flounced off very much on her dignity.
"It's a right good thing to have company here," she confided to Justin as she picked up the glasses. "My poor lady has spent too much of her life alone for one as pretty and gay as she is, no thanks to that father of hers. His lordship was a brilliant enough gentleman when it came to books, but he was a fool where his daughter's well-being was concerned. Why she's been taking care of this place since she was eleven, no thanks to him, and her husband was no better—a 196
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gamester if there ever was one," she paused to draw only the slightest of breaths and make sure that her words had had their desired effect before continuing. "You must excuse me, sir, for running on so, but it does put me in a pucker to think of all the work she has done with no thanks from anyone." There, she had said it. With a gusty sigh, Mrs. Tottington departed leaving Justin to make what he liked of the interruption.
Her intrusion had accomplished all that she had hoped, and Justin was in a thoughtful mood when Diana appeared looking most businesslike in a slate gray habit, her hair ruthlessly pulled back under her hat, but the severity of her attire only emphasized the slender figure, delicate features, and enormous blue eyes.
Still preoccupied with the housekeeper's words, Justin followed her silently to the stables where Ajax and a magnificent bay were awaiting them. "Poor Ferdie. Faro was the result of the only bit of luck he ever seemed to have in all his years of gaming," she remarked sadly, "and I haven't the heart to get rid of him. But he has done little else but remain at Buckland eating his head off. He will be delighted to a have a rider on his back who is worthy of him."
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Indeed, both horse and rider were pleased. It was a perfect spring day when the air smelt fresh with the promise of growing things, and everywhere the eye could see were the brilliant greens of new growth. It had been some time since Justin had ruralized, and somewhat to his surprise he realized, he had missed it. The lush countryside was both peaceful and soothing after the bustle of world capitals, and bird song was a delightful contrast to the rumble of carriages and the shouts of hawkers, chairmen and all the rest of the noisy populace that inhabited those places. They rode along companionably while Diana pointed out the improvements she had been able to effect. There was pride in her voice as she spoke of new roofs on cottages, fields fenced in, brickwork re-pointed, but Justin, astute as he was, also sensed the frustration over the previous disorder and decay that her father's lack of interest had precipitated. He felt the strain of the constant scrimping and saving that had been forced on her by the marquess's inattention to pecuniary details.
Suddenly aware of how much she had been chattering, Diana fell abruptly silent. Her companion glanced quizzically at her, and she laughed apologetically. "Do forgive me for running on so. It's just that I have never ridden around Buckland with anyone and, it is such a rare luxury to be able to discuss it all with someone other than Ajax." 198
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Justin was unprepared for the flattering effect those simple words had on him. He felt oddly privileged that she felt comfortable enough with him, trusted him enough to share her private world with him. At the same time he was touched by the loneliness he heard in her voice. He pictured her as both Lady Walden and Mrs. Tottington had described her, a solitary little girl with far too many responsibilities for one her age.
Tentatively he began to question her, careful lest she feel he was prying, but her initial wariness had disappeared, and encouraged by the presence of a sympathetic listener, she shared the details of a barren childhood—the long hours spent poring over books in an effort to command her father's attention and win his approval, the struggles to grasp enough of the principles of accounting, agriculture, and housekeeping to run the estate.
It was a pathetic little recital, and Justin could not help wishing for some way in which he could make it all up to her. He could not refrain from thinking that if it had been he instead of Ferdie Hatherill, he would have showered her with attention and lavished her with every possible comfort instead of spending his life at sporting events and gaming tables. No wonder she was such a self-sufficient thing. She had grown up raising herself, all the while doing her best to look after those who should have been caring for her. Justin cursed himself for being a blind fool. If he had taken the time to ask questions and listen at the beginning of their acquaintance, he would have known that the last thing Lady Diana wanted or needed in her life was another male burden 199
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and Reginald, babe that he was, would have been nothing more than that for someone as capable as Diana no matter what he stood to inherit.
"I am afraid I lack the experience to appreciate all that you have accomplished," he apologized as she described the recent drainage of some farmland. "Alfred has spared me those concerns so that I have been able to waste my life gallivanting about the Continent."
It was Diana's turn to be arrested by the tone in his voice, and she was surprised at the bitterness in it. She had always considered the worldly, slightly cynical Justin St. Clair to be unaffected by such sentimental emotions as regret or concern over other people's impressions of him, but the way he spoke left no doubt that someone, probably the bombastic Alfred, had leveled these charges at him more than once. "I should not call being an architect of a lasting peace in Europe precisely wasting one's time." She sprang to her companion's defense.
"Perhaps not, but to the Earls of Winterbourne, anything but the circumscribed life of a conscientious landowner is not only improper but highly suspect. It's a wonder Alfred has anything to do with me for he certainly had no commerce with Great-Uncle Theobald until the last when he tried to secure his fortune for Reginald and his sisters. But I suppose what one studiously ignores in a distant relative, one can not overlook in a brother, painful though it must be to be associated with someone associated, however distantly, with trade and politics." Justin's wry expression and the halfhumorous, half-sarcastic note in his voice made light of it all, 200
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but Diana sensed that at one time he had been hurt by this active disapproval.
"Do you owe your tremendous success more to your Great-Uncle Theobald or to your own spirit of rebellion?" Diana spoke in a rallying tone, but there was a sympathy and an understanding in her eyes that warmed him.
"Ah, that is a question." He laughed. "Or perhaps it was boredom. Looking after his affairs gave me something to do. I fear I found life sadly flat without university or school authorities to flout."
"Why did you not join the army? Surely there were choice spirits there would have been up for any sort of a lark."
"Yes," he agreed slowly. "But the actual business of throwing oneself in the cannon's mouth is rather straightforward you know. It's either your life or somebody else's—not a great deal of challenge, other than the physical, or complexity in that." Again he shrugged it off with deprecatory humor, but considering it all, Diana realized that he often must have found himself as at odds with the
ton's
conventional mode of existence as she had. How odd. And for all these years she had been thinking that if only she had been a man, her life would have been more suited to her tastes.
"No," he replied as she voiced this thought, "those who are army mad think of little else and such a hail-fellow-well-met attitude can begin to pall after awhile."
"I am sure we are lucky you finally threw in your lot with Sir Charles Stewart. Though less bloody than Ciudad Rodrigo or Waterloo, the maneuverings at Vienna can have been no 201
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less dangerous in their own way and certainly just as decisive as any battle. How thrilling it must be to have had a hand in history."
"No one has put it quite like that to me before, but believe me, at the time it felt more like endless, childish wrangling than history," he responded smiling reminiscently. By this time they had reached the house, and Diana noticed in some surprise how far the sun had progressed in the sky. "I had no notion it had gotten so late," she apologized. It really was time for him to be returning to London if he wished to make it before dark, but somehow she was loath to see him go, and unwilling as she was to admit it to herself, she couldn't think when she had enjoyed a conversation more. "We keep country hours here, so I confess that I shall be having dinner soon. I would ask you to join me, but that would mean you would have to make your journey in the dark, and of course..." she broke off detesting herself for sounding so eager to have him stay.
"However, it is a full moon and promises to be a clear evening," Justin hastened to respond before she could think it over any further and change her mind. "I should be delighted to accept your invitation." He jumped lightly off Faro and turned to help her dismount, smiling up at her as he did so. Though ordinarily she would have scorned any such assistance, Diana silently allowed him to help her down without protest. There was something so natural and easy about it. However, there was nothing natural about the breathlessness that suddenly assailed her when she looked up at him. Though the smile still lingered, the gray eyes were 202
