Virginia Henley (34 page)

Mr. Burke led them to the drawing room, where Diana awaited them with trepidation. Prudence stared hard at Diana, examining her for changes. And changes she found. The girl before her in the jade velvet gown seemed older with far more poise and composure than she had ever witnessed in her niece before.

Diana smiled at them. “I am so sorry for the worry I have caused you both, though my disappearance wasn’t deliberate, I assure you. Thank you for searching for me and worrying about me. You will both be happy when I come of age in a couple of months and you are relieved of your responsibility.”

The girl was deliberately pointing out that their authority would soon be at an end. Prudence and Richard exchanged an alarmed glance. Diana smiled again. “You mustn’t worry about me; as you can see I am quite well.”

Prudence looked closer. She appeared decidedly fatigued;
her eyes had a slumberous look about them. Yet she seemed divinely happy. “Where were you all these months?” Prudence demanded.

Diana had debated with herself over what she should tell Prudence. Should she tell her some plausible tale, should she concoct some scenario that her aunt could swallow? In the end she had decided to tell the truth. Neither Prudence, nor Richard either, would believe her, of course, but that really wasn’t her problem. No matter what story she told, Prudence would believe exactly what she chose to believe.

Diana stated the facts without embellishing them. “When we left Hardwick Hall that morning I was in a dilemma about marrying Peter. I took a walk up on the heights and went into an antique shop where I came upon a Roman helmet. I tried it on and it became stuck. I believe I fainted. When I woke up, I was in the same place, but in a different time period. I cannot explain how, but I was transported back to when the Romans occupied Britain.”

“Rubbish!” Prudence said flatly. Diana had run off with some man. By simply looking at her, Prudence could tell she had lost her innocence. “Richard, I should like a word alone with Diana, if you would excuse us, dear.”

He obliged Prudence, thinking as she did that Diana had been with her first lover and couldn’t possibly admit such a thing in his presence.

“You have behaved scandalously!” Prudence accused when they were alone.

Diana put her head on one side as if considering her behavior. “Actually, I have, Prudence. The things I wore were scandalous, the things I said were scandalous, and the things I did were quite depraved. Quite deliciously depraved.”

Prudence turned an unbecoming shade of carmine. “You have been gone for
nine months.
Did you have a child out of wedlock?”

Diana gasped. “Leave it to your respectable mind to
suspect such a thing. No, I’m sorry to say, I did not have a child, and it is the one thing in all this I deeply regret!”

“Oh! You will show some respect when you speak to me, young lady, even though you obviously have no respect for yourself!”

Prudence turned and stalked toward the door, yelling out for her husband. “Richard, I refuse to deal with your ward. She is out of control. She is not in her right mind!”

Richard, hearing Prudence’s shocked hysterics and reading between the lines that Diana had been ruined, said hastily, “When Peter arrives, I think we’d best have the wedding as quickly as possible.”

Diana stood up. She wanted to tell them that was impossible, but she knew she must tell Peter first. She owed him that courtesy. “Whether we marry or not is between Peter and I. It is none of your business.”

“It most assuredly is our business, young madam,” replied Prudence. “You are under our control for the next two months. Tell her, Richard.”

“That is true, Diana, whether you like it or not,” Richard confirmed.

“I am under your
guidance,
not your
control,”
Diana replied, raising her voice to match theirs.

In the front hall Charles Wentworth and Mark Hardwick looked at each other with concern. “Shall we intervene?” asked Charles.

“We shall,” replied the earl decisively.

The raised voices ceased immediately and silence filled the air as the two men entered the drawing room. Mark broke the silence.

“This is Dr. Wentworth, who has been caring for Diana since I found her unconscious. Charles, this is Prudence and Richard Davenport, Diana’s guardians.”

Richard stepped forward to shake the doctor’s hand. Prudence nodded stiffly.

“I’m very pleased with Lady Diana’s progress, but I feel I should advise you that she is not completely recovered.”

“In what way?” Prudence demanded.

“She has suffered a trauma. Luckily she has recovered physically.”

“But not mentally?” Prudence cut in.

“There is nothing wrong with her mental state,” Charles said firmly. “She has not fully recovered emotionally. She needs time for that.”

“What about the lies she’s concocted to cover up the truth of where she’s been all these months?”

“I would not call it lying when she firmly believes what she has told us.”

Diana opened her mouth to protest. They were speaking
about her as if she were invisible. Mark put a finger to his lips and reluctantly she obeyed him.

“Claptrap and rubbish!” Prudence declared.

Charles Wentworth summoned all his patience. “We don’t have all the answers, but with time and understanding Lady Diana will recover completely, and surely that is what all of us want.”

“Pack your things. We have taken a house in Queen Square.”

Mark’s black eyes bored into Prudence. “That is entirely unnecessary. Lady Diana may stay here until Dr. Wentworth feels she is recovered.”

Prudence pretended outrage. “That would be highly improper. My niece is an unmarried lady, Lord Bath.”

“Are you suggesting I would compromise her?” Mark Hardwick demanded with cold arrogance.

Diana stood up, suddenly tired of all the arguing. “I shall come to Queen Square as soon as I’ve spoken with Peter. I’m sorry about all of this, Prudence.”

Thinking to smooth over the awkward situation that had arisen, Charles said, “Diana will be just fine. I shall be happy to come to Queen Square to keep an eye on her.”

“Dr. Wentworth, your services are no longer—”

“Prudence, that’s quite enough!” Richard cut in. “Dr. Wentworth has been most helpful.” He shook the doctor’s hand. “I am indebted to you, sir, for the care of my niece. I shall indeed send for you to Queen Square.” With that, Richard and Prudence took their leave, followed by the doctor.

“Why the hell did you cave in to her bullying?” Mark demanded.

“I haven’t the faintest intention of going to Queen Square. I just said that to get rid of her. I had to do something before you came to blows.”

“That is the most odious woman I have ever encountered.”

Diana began to laugh and cast him a sideways glance. “Imagine her insinuating that you would compromise me.”

He closed the space between them in two strides, clasped her firmly about the waist, and lifted her high. “Let me do it now.”

“Absolutely not.”

His dark brows drew together in disappointment. She kissed his frown away. “It’s my turn to compromise you!”

It was long after dark when Peter Hardwick finally arrived. Diana had cajoled Mark into letting her talk to his brother alone, against his better judgment. She sat reading in the library, knowing in her bones that he would come tonight.

Mr. Burke took Peter’s greatcoat and told him Lady Diana awaited him in the library. He swept into the room like an ardent suitor.

“Darling girl, how wonderful to see you recovered.” He lifted both her hands to his lips, then tried to draw her into his arms.

Diana stepped back from him. “Peter, we have to talk.”

He held up his hand. “No confessions, Diana, I insist. What’s done is done, and it really doesn’t matter to me where you have been. All that matters is that you’ve come back to me.”

He was behaving so gallantly, Diana was consumed with guilt. “Peter, I’m withdrawing from the engagement.”

“I shan’t allow you to do any such thing. We will be married immediately.”

“Peter, you are not listening to me! I cannot marry you!”

At her tone, Peter wrenched his high neckcloth from
his throat with savage fingers, as though it were choking him.

“Is there someone else?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she said quietly, “there is someone else.”

His lips curled in rage. “I have a written agreement with your guardians that cannot be broken.”

“I know nothing of this,” she told him truthfully.

“You also know nothing of the fact that they want your money and petitioned the courts to have you declared dead!”

The book she had been reading dropped from nerveless fingers. “What are you saying?”

“I am saying they are vultures who already have their hands on your money. If you marry me, they will no longer have control of you.”

Diana’s eyes widened. “You want to marry me for my money!” It was a revelation. How utterly naive she had been. “There is no need for me to marry, thank God! I come of age in two months and will control my own money.”

“There’ll be nothing left. Two months is ample time for Richard Davenport to bleed you dry.”

“I won’t listen to this. I shall go and confront them immediately!”

“Your safety lies in this house and in marrying me. Don’t put yourself in their hands. Diana—”

“Leave me.”

“Oh, I’ll leave you for now but you can be assured that you won’t get free of your agreement this easily,” said Peter as he stomped from the room.

Diana sat down at the desk. Could there possibly be any truth in the things he was saying? Prudence and Richard were after her inheritance? Peter Hardwick was willing to marry her for her money? They had a written agreement? It was true that Prudence had pressed her continually to marry Peter, but how could that benefit her aunt and uncle?

Icy fingers stole about her heart; the written agreement
must carve up her fortune between them. Diana’s thoughts swirled about, trying to piece things together, trying to make some sense of it while at the same time denying that all the people who professed to love her loved only her money.

Richard had tried to sell her father’s priceless library. What motive could he possibly have had but money? Mark had wanted to buy it. Dear God in Heaven, was he in on the agreement?

Peter Hardwick flung open his brother’s bedchamber door. “Mark, you’ve got to help me.”

The earl had been trying to work on his book about ancient Aquae Sulis, but of course his mind was on other matters. He would have preferred to be with Diana when she gave the news to Peter about breaking their engagement. After all, he felt totally responsible. He stood up from his desk and indicated the chairs before the fire. “Sit down, Peter.”

“When I arrived in Grosvenor Square to give the Davenports the good news about Diana, they wanted to kill the messenger. Richard had petitioned the courts to have her declared dead. I have reason to believe he had already siphoned off her money to his own accounts.”

“That is a very serious charge, Peter. What makes you think he would do such a thing?”

“He said our agreement for me to marry Diana was off. Mark, the only reason he would call off such a profitable arrangement was if he had a way to get
all
of her money.”

“Are you telling me you were being paid to marry Diana?” Mark’s black eyes were riveted on his brother’s handsome face.

Peter shot up from the chair. “You make it sound like some sort of crime! Mark, for Christ’s sake, I’m over my head in debt. The moneylenders are closing in on me. I’ll
see the inside of Fleet Prison unless I marry Diana Davenport.”

Mark Hardwick’s fist smashed into Peter’s jaw. The shorter man fell to the floor like a ton of bricks. Mark took a deep breath to curb his impulse to pummel his brother senseless where he lay.

“You profligate young swine. The sight of you makes me sick!”

Holding his jaw, Peter crawled onto his knees, then using an overturned chair, pulled himself upright.

“You self-righteous bastard! Because you were firstborn, everything was handed to you on a gold plate embossed with strawberry leaves—the land, the title, the money. It’s easy for you to look down your arrogant nose at me because I’d marry for money, but you haven’t even the guts to marry!”

Mark ran his hand through his hair to prevent him from smashing it into Peter’s face again.

“You have a generous allowance, which would be adequate if you didn’t run wild with those debauched friends of yours. I’ll settle your debts one last time. If you fall into debt again, I’ll let you rot in prison. Now get the hell out of my sight before I kill you.”

The thick walls of the Elizabethan manor prevented Diana from hearing the argument, but when Peter Hardwick came rushing down the staircase and crashed the front door closed behind him, she came out of the library to see what on earth was happening. She went to a front window and drew aside the drape in time to see a carriage and horses thunder down the driveway.

When Diana went back to the entrance hall, Mark was standing at the top of the stairs. Even in the half light, she could see he was in a towering rage.

“Was that Peter?”

“Come upstairs,” he ground out.

Diana was suddenly afraid. “I’m sorry I’ve made such a mess of things.”

“Come upstairs,” he repeated. The sound of his voice told Diana he was as upset as she had seen him throughout this entire ordeal.

Her chin went up. “I haven’t broken his heart,” she said defensively. “He was marrying me for my money, but obviously you knew that—everyone but me knew that.”

He came down the stairs like a panther stalking its prey. Hair on the nape of her neck raised in alarm and a shudder passed over her.
Run!
her inner voice cried, but she was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the dark force of the powerful male who advanced upon her.

He swept her up in commanding arms that brooked no refusal and carried her up the staircase. She struggled against him, but his brute strength and anger were so great she could not escape his iron grip. He strode into his bedchamber and kicked the door shut behind them.

“Marcus … Mark!” she gasped. “Please don’t do this.”

His black eyes gazed into hers in disbelief. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I … I am afraid of your anger,” she whispered.

He sat down before the fire and gathered her against him. “My anger is not at you, it’s at what they’ve done to you!”

Diana sagged against him, grateful for his strength.

“How will you ever trust anyone again, when they’ve all betrayed you?” He clenched an iron-hard fist. “You were even afraid of me. I want to kill them!”

She took hold of his fist and drew it to her cheek. His fingers opened and he brushed them across her temple and caressed her face tenderly. Centuries of civilization had wrought changes. Marcus would have killed them; Mark controlled his bloodlust. “What did Peter tell you?”

“He said Richard and Prudence were embezzling my money. He said my only hope of escaping their control was
to marry him. He had some sort of written agreement with them to divide up my fortune. I told him I would go and confront them.”

“No. You mustn’t do that. I’ll have my barristers start an investigation immediately.”

“What did Peter say to you, or more to the point, what did you say to Peter?”

“When he admitted he wanted to marry you for money, I let my fists do my talking for me.”

“Poor Peter.”

“You’re not sorry for the young swine?”

“In a way. He’ll never be able to measure up to you. You set a formidable example.”

“You exaggerate, but I love it.” His lips touched her earlobe. “Tell me more.”

“You are noble and honorable and—”

“I’m a bloody fool. I told him I’d settle his debts. I’ll have to go up to London tomorrow and buy back all his markers. I can’t just give him the money, he’s completely untrustworthy.” His arms tightened about her. “Come with me?” Mark knew it was a lot to ask. If they traveled to London together, openly, she would be completely compromised. The ton would descend upon her like a pack of ravenous beasts and devour what was left of her reputation.

“I’d rather stay here,” she murmured against his throat. While he was safely in London, Diana fully intended visiting Queen Square for a showdown. She didn’t need Mark to fight all her battles for her. In fact, she was quite looking forward to a confrontation with Prudence.

“Perhaps that would be best,” he said ruefully. “You’ll be perfectly safe here. Peter isn’t likely to return for some time, but if he does, I’ll have Mr. Burke forbid him the house.”

“I’m not afraid of Peter. So long as I have you, the whole world and everyone in it can go to hell.”

His lips claimed her possessively. Between kisses she whispered, “Why don’t you look for a pair of Roman dining
couches while you’re in London? Food and lovemaking are a delicious combination.”

She was the most fascinating, unconventional woman he had ever known and he utterly adored her. He cursed that he had to leave her tomorrow, but he would make up for it tonight.