24. Three Women in a Carriage
CHAPTER 24
THREE WOMEN IN A CARRIAGE
M eanwhile, in the coach directly ahead
Given the amount of space three bell skirts required in a cramped traveling coach, Barbara sat facing the direction of travel while Jane Fitzsimmons and Diana Henley occupied the opposite bench.
Not used to female companionship, Diana had brought along her copy of the first volume of Description of Greece , intending to read more about Pausanias’ experience at Sounion. She didn’t expect the book to remain unopened for so long, but even after two hours of travel, she was still engaged in conversation with Jane and Cousin Barbara.
Her brother Marcus, it seemed, was causing a good deal of consternation for Jane.
“Will you tell me of his true regard?” Jane asked, her brows furrowed. “I beg you share with me what you know about your brother.”
Diana exchanged a quick glance with Barbara, the older woman’s gloved hand twitching as if she was encouraging her to speak. “Uh, I haven’t exactly spent much time in his company these past few years, given he was away at Oxford,” she began carefully. “However, I can say with certainty I have never heard him speak of another female as he has spoken of you.”
Jane blinked. “What exactly has he said?” There was a hint of breathlessness to her query, as if she feared hearing the truth.
Diana remembered when Marcus had been speaking with Randy up on the roof two nights ago. She recalled what she had overhead. “He is quite smitten with you,” she said. “He fancies himself in love, in fact, and is quite vexed that you are apparently betrothed to…” She stopped, realizing she was about to bring David into the conversation. Glancing at Barbara, she sighed.
“My son,” Barbara stated, rolling her eyes before she allowed a quiet titter. “Forgive me, Miss Jane, but your betrothal to David was entirely unknown to both Lord Bellingham and myself until only a few nights ago when he admitted he had made a promise to you.”
Diana listened intently, curious as to why a young woman of Jane’s beauty would accept an offer of marriage during her first Season in London. Surely David was too young to be considering matrimony.
“It wasn’t meant to be common knowledge,” Jane explained. She leaned forward. “Please accept my apologies. I told no one unless…” Here she allowed a heavy sigh.
“Unless a young man insisted you consider his suit?” Barbara guessed.
Jane nodded. “Or an older man,” she added, displaying a wince as she said the words. “Last year was the year of my come-out and my first Season in London. Since my family lives near Bath most of the year, I was entirely unprepared for how I would be received. I didn’t know anyone, so I expected to be a wallflower?—”
“Oh, my dear,” Barbara interrupted with a huff. “You are gorgeous. A viscount’s daughter. There was never a chance you would be a wallflower,” she said.
Jane dipped her head. “Thank you, my lady. It’s very kind of you to say.”
“Surely your mother has prepared you for the life of an aristocrat’s wife?” Barbara added.
“I believe so,” Jane replied, “although...” She turned to Diana. “I never thought I might one day become a… a marchioness. A baroness, perhaps. Mayhap a viscountess. But surely not a marchioness. My mother was from Spain, you see, and although her father was a conte, there are those who believe I cannot be a proper English miss.”
Diana gave a start. “But your father is English, is he not?” she asked.
“He is,” she acknowledged, lifting a shoulder to indicate it wasn’t always enough.
“Well, my son would be lucky to have you as his wife, and he knows it,” Barbara insisted.
When Jane didn’t respond, Diana did. “But?” she prompted quietly.
The countess’ shoulders visibly dropped. “Well, there it is. The truth of the matter,” she said sadly. “It’s not fair for you to have to wait for David,” she said, directing her comment to Jane. “He won’t be ready to wed for years, my dear. If you have feelings for someone else—for Mr. Henley or another young man back in England—you are well within your rights to beg off with David.”
Jane’s eyes rounded. “You would not.. you would not think me fast ? Or inconsiderate of your son’s regard?” she countered with worry.
Barbara once again tittered. “I would not. Nor would David, I think, given the terms of your arrangement. He is a most amiable young man?—”
“Indeed,” Jane agreed, her head bobbing up and down.
“—and he falls in love far too easily.”
At this bit of news, Jane displayed a look of offense. “Oh?”
Diana could tell from the way Barbara’s gaze darted about that the countess realized she had erred with her comment. She placed a gloved hand on Jane’s arm. “I’m quite certain she means he easily fell in love with others before he met you,” she assured her. “But now that my brother has put voice to his desire to court you... for you to be his wife, pray tell, what are your thoughts on becoming the future Viscountess Henley?”
Jane inhaled softly. “Well, Marcus does seem rather attentive,” she admitted.
Diana exchanged a quick glance with Barbara when Jane used his Christian name rather than his last name. “Go on,” she encouraged.
“I admit I was rather flattered he offered to challenge David to a duel. To gain my affections,” Jane continued.
Gasping, Barbara blinked. “When was this?”
Jane appeared to shrink into the squabs. “Whilst we were on our way to the caves. I was quick to inform him he had best not do such a thing. Not because I didn’t believe he could win—I think David is probably a crack shot and could take him down with a single bullet?—”
“I rather doubt that,” Barbara murmured.
“—but I didn’t wish for Marcus to become injured because of his regard for me. There are so many other ways he has proven it.”
“Oh?” Diana asked, hoping the young lady would elaborate.
“Why, he brought the most wonderful picnic basket the day we toured the caves. Two bottles of wine rather than only one, and the very best bread and cheeses,” she gushed. “There were even dates, larger and sweeter than I had ever tasted, and figs and olives.”
Remembering she had been the one to remind her brother about his promise to bring the picnic luncheon, Diana blinked. “Our cook is quite competent,” she said in response. “Was there anything else that my brother might have done to impress you?”
A blush colored the young woman’s face before she said, “The other night we had dinner at a taverna in town. My brother was with us of course, as was David, but it was Marcus who insisted on escorting me. He pointed out all the places where I might have otherwise stumbled on the pavement or tripped on a step.”
“As he should have,” Diana remarked.
“When he asked me questions, he listened to me.”
“Would you not expect him to?” Barbara asked in alarm.
“Well, he didn’t interrupt me like Antonio does so frequently. There are times I think my brother believes I am not very clever.”
“Almost all men think that about women, my dear,” Barbara murmured.
“Well, given the volume of noise in the place—it was quite crowded—it meant Marcus had to lean in closer to hear me.”
“He probably liked that,” Diana said under her breath.
“Which is when I noticed the scent of him.”
Diana blinked, not sure she heard correctly. “His cologne, you mean?”
“A bit of citrus. Amber, surely. But nothing sweet or floral,” Jane went on, as if she hadn’t heard Diana’s query. “For as long as I live, I shall adore that scent.”
Exchanging a quick glance with Barbara, Diana swallowed. “I hadn’t noticed,” she said. Had Marcus begun using colognes? Or had he worn the same one for so many years, she no longer noticed it?
“He wants to live in the capital,” Jane continued with excitement. “Learn everything he can about politics and be the very best viscount he can be. Even before he inherits.”
Diana stared at Jane for a moment, no longer able to hide her surprise at hearing the young woman’s assessment of her older brother. Marcus had never once told her of his desire to live in London, nor of his interest in politics. Up until that moment, she had assumed he would follow in their father’s footsteps. Become an archaeologist. Continue the search for the mosaics covering all the floors of what had at one time been the realm of the Greeks and Romans. “Are we still speaking of Marcus Henley?” she asked in awe.
It was Jane’s turn to blink before she inhaled softly. “He has not told you any of his plans? Of his intention to apply for a writ of acceleration?” she asked. “He said he should have no trouble given your father’s frequent absences from London during Parliament.”
Feeling a mix of disappointment and disbelief, Diana shook her head. “Not a bit of it,” she admitted, swallowing a sob. “So he must really hold you in very high regard.”
Jane displayed a wan grin. “Oh, please, Miss Diana, you must tell me. Am I wrong to want him as my husband?” she asked quietly. “Instead of David?”
Diana inhaled softly. If Marcus and Jane married, she would no longer have him as a pretend protector when her parents were away—or as an impediment to her life as a spinster. As for how he would behave as a husband, she had no idea. “You are not wrong,” she said, realizing her brother’s interest in Jane must have been far more than an infatuation. “If he should do anything to vex you, though, I can assure you I will scold him most vehemently.”
Grinning ear to ear, Jane said, “Oh, would you? He’s frightened to death of you, so a scolding from you would mean all the world,” she claimed.
Diana gave a start, her attention going to Barbara when she heard her cousin-by-marriage attempting to suppress a chuckle. “I was not aware of his fear of me,” she said, finally allowing a grin. “But I assure you, I shall use it to your best advantage,” she promised.
Jane dipped her head. “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
Swallowing, Diana sobered. “As have I,” she whispered. When she turned to Barbara, she saw tears in the older woman’s eyes. “Oh, dear. Please don’t take offense, my lady,” she pleaded. “David is a very amiable young man whom I think shall find the perfect marchioness when he is older.”
Barbara shook her head. “Oh, I do not take offense at all,” she assured them. “So please do not take offense when I tell you I will be most relieved when David is no longer betrothed. He is simply far too young to marry.”
Jane and Diana nodded their agreement.
“I will break off our betrothal with him. Later today, if I’m allowed some privacy with him,” Jane promised.
“I will see to it you have that time, my dear,” Barbara assured her, her gaze going to the west. “Oh, my. I had no idea we would be traveling so close to the water,” she said in awe.
Diana grinned. “The Aegean is especially blue today,” she said. “Would you like to hear what Pausanias thought of where we are going?” She lifted her book from the bench and was about to turn to the first page of text when Barbara cleared her throat.
“Actually, I was rather hoping we could talk about you and my nephew,” the countess said.
Stunned at the comment, Diana sighed and set aside the book. “You are referring to Lord Forster?” she asked, embarrassed at how her body responded to the mere thought of the young man who would one day be the Earl of Gisborn.
“You know I am,” Barbara replied quietly. “And despite the fact that he is only a couple of years older than David, I am of the opinion he is ready to consider candidates to be his eventual countess.”
“He does seem older than his years,” Jane said brightly. “He carries himself with such confidence, and he seems very responsible, too.”
Diana aimed a look of disbelief in the young woman’s direction. When had Jane had a chance to spend any time in Randy’s presence? When he wasn’t annoying her on the Acropolis, he was lying next to her on the roof of the house. “Whatever gave you that impression?” she asked.
Jane angled her head to one side. “I admit I have only had the benefit of his introduction that first day at the Parthenon,” she replied. “But he exudes a confidence one can only gain with age and experience. His father has surely put him in charge of something important with respect to the Gisborn earldom.” Here she glanced over at Barbara, as if for confirmation of her claim.
“She has the right of it,” Barbara agreed. “Although many in London would not agree that an heir should be tasked with physical labor, both Randy and Tom have certainly done more than their fair share of it for the Gisborn farms. Without complaint, I might add.”
Diana remembered how easily Randy had lifted her so she could stand atop his shoulders to reach the inscription in the Erechtheion. He had never once complained that her boots were digging into his shoulders, nor had he commented about her weight being a problem as she took care and a good deal of time to trace the figures carved into the marble cella. Even when her descent seemed as if it would be problematic—she hadn’t given a thought as to how she would get down once she was up atop his shoulders—his solution had been simple, even if she had felt a good deal of embarrassment at how close he had to hold her body during her dismount.
Trust me , he had said.
What else could she do but trust him?
“Has he made his intentions known?” Barbara queried. “I ask only because he seems more than smitten with you,” she added.
Diana glanced over at Jane and noted the young lady’s barely suppressed look of anticipation. Apparently it was her turn to be the subject of a discussion regarding a young man’s regard. She wasn’t about to admit what Randy had said to her, though. Especially the recommendation that she take more than one lover. “Has he said something to you , my lady?” she asked.
Barbara seemed to think on the query a moment before she sighed. “I admit I might have overheard him in conversation with my husband.”
“Oh?”
A smile suddenly brightened Barbara’s face. “It seems you vex him,” she said, an elegant brow arching as if to emphasize her words. “Terribly.”
Torn between taking offense—he was vexed by her ?—or feeling triumphant—her methods of rebuffing his interest in her project were apparently having some effect—Diana merely stared at the countess.
“In the very best way, I should think,” Barbara added when Diana didn’t offer a response.
Diana dipped her head. “I admit we have had some interesting conversations,” she said carefully. “Many having to do with my desire to be a spinster.”
Here she saw Barbara’s happy expression falter.
“Oh? Why ever would you wish such a situation for yourself?”
Diana straightened in the squabs. “I do not wish to become a man’s property,” she stated. “My father has agreed to give me my dowry so that I might have the funds with which to live. Next year, when I am one-and-twenty.”
Barbara seemed to deflate before her eyes. “Oh,” she said, sounding ever so sad. “So you won’t be having any children?”
“That’s correct,” Diana replied. “I wish to pursue archaeology as my father has been doing.”
“Here in Greece?” Barbara pressed.
The query had Diana pausing a moment before she said, “Well, for now. I do hope to one day explore some of the temples in Egypt. Mayhap look for Roman ruins elsewhere.”
“By yourself?” Jane asked, her eyes wide with fright.
“Well, I would require a traveling companion, of course,” Diana hedged.
“Servants, too, I should think,” Barbara put in. “A laundress, at the very least.”
“Possibly,” Diana replied, not having thought that far ahead.
“You’re terribly brave,” Jane said in awe.
Tittering, Diana shook her head. “I do not think I am brave” she replied. “I only wish to unearth the past.”
Jane appeared ready to say something, but when she paused too long, Diana asked, “What is it?” She watched as the young woman blushed.
“Will you take a lover?” Jane asked in a whisper.
Diana’s eyes rounded. “I... I rather doubt it,” she stammered.
“Because, I heard tell of an independent woman in Bath—a bluestocking, I believe she was—who not only took a lover, but had a different one for every night of the week ,” Jane said in a hoarse whisper. “She even called them by the days of the week they were with her. Mr. Monday, Mr. Tuesday... There was talk her favorite was Mr. Saturday because when she attended church, she always displayed rather high color.”
Barbara’s mouth dropped open as did Diana’s, which left them both speechless for a moment before Diana lifted her hand to her mouth and giggled nervously.
Had Randy said something to Jane? Or had Jane overheard their conversation up on the roof? Neither scenario seemed likely. “A bit scandalous, wouldn’t you say, my lady?” she asked, directing her words to Barbara.
“Scandalous and rather unlikely,” Barbara argued. “I have enough trouble managing one man in my life—well, and two boys. I cannot imagine having to manage seven of them.”
Jane giggled. “Marcus will surely be enough for me, I should think,” she said happily.
Diana couldn’t help but think of Randy just then. Of their time on the roof. His manner had been teasing and yet not. He had been entirely too forward. But he had seemed genuinely concerned about her. Worried, even.
The thought of sharing a bed with him had her insides all in a tumble. The most curious sensations darted beneath her skin and left her core throbbing with desire.
Unlike most girls her age, she knew what happened in a marriage bed. Knew what was involved. She had seen the drawings in her father’s books. Sexual congress had been happening since the dawn of mankind. Throughout history, every civilization had existed because couples had either chosen or been forced by circumstance to lie together, and women had then given birth to the next generation. Civilizations were never wiped out due to a lack of sexual congress. Quite the contrary in some cases.
History was filled with stories of those who took lovers. Not all of them ended badly. Would it really be so awful if she were to take a lover?
Had Randy encouraged her to take a lover because he wanted to fill the role?
Why else would he even bring it up? Unless he only wished to torment her?
She remembered the placement of his hands as he helped her climb onto his shoulders. The feel of his arms as they pressed against her sides when he guided her back down again. The way he had watched her, ready to do what was necessary should she lose her balance and begin to fall.
Trust me .
Diana inhaled sharply when a frisson of pleasure shot through her middle. When she glanced over at Barbara, she discovered the countess watching her with a most curious expression.
“He’s not going to ruin you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said softly.
Staring at the countess for a moment, Diana finally nodded. “I would not expect him to,” she replied.
“I mean to say, not unless you want him to.”
Blinking several times, Diana glanced over to discover Jane’s eyes filled with amusement.
“And if he does,” Barbara went on, her back stiffening so she straightened in the squabs, “he will do the honorable thing and take you to wife.”
“Whether I want him to or not?” Diana countered, immediately regretting her words. “Apologies. It’s as you said. He’s not going to ruin me because... because I won’t allow it.”
Despite feeling ever so relieved at having declared her intentions—or lack thereof—Diana couldn’t shake the niggling feeling she wouldn’t have the final word on the matter.