A Question of Impropriety. Michelle Styles
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her suddenly parched lips. Sealed. The back of her neck prickled as a distant memory woke. Warned her. She held out her hand. ‘As a gentleman and a lady.’
He regarded her hand, and then his gaze lifted to her mouth, made it tingle under his gaze. A smile transformed his features. He reached out and touched her hand. Held it for a moment longer than strictly necessary. ‘A pleasure as always, Miss Clare.’
‘Welcome to Northumberland and the neighbourhood, Lord Coltonby,’ she said gravely, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of her heart, and withdrew her fingers.
‘I look forward to discovering everything Northumberland has to offer. To deepening our friendship.’
‘There are neighbours, and then there are friends.’
‘I trust we can be both.’
Diana adjusted the ribbons of her cap so it sat more squarely on her head. ‘My brother will be sorry he missed your visit.’
‘It gives me an excuse to come by another time.’ Lord Coltonby’s deep grey eyes met hers.
‘If you wish,’ Diana replied and made a mental note to add another rule—Lord Coltonby represented danger and was to be avoided. Her survival depended on it.
Chapter Three
‘Have you heard about the exciting development, Miss Clare?’ The tinkling tones of the Honourable Miss Miranda Bolt assaulted Diana’s ears as she left the circulating library the next morning.
Pride and Prejudice had been safely returned to the library, and Diana had no reason to even think about her new neighbour. Her well-ordered life would go on as before. She would be able to concentrate on things like needlework and visiting the houses of the colliery’s employees, tasks that today held about as much appeal as getting her teeth pulled. But good tasks, worthwhile ones.
‘What news? What has happened?’ Diana asked cautiously as she turned to greet the impeccably dressed Miranda Bolt. Already she could feel a distinct pain behind her eyes. ‘Is it anything untoward, Miss Bolt?’
‘Positively the most important thing that has happened in the district for the last century.’ Miss Bolt gave a toss of pale yellow curls. Her tiny mouth quivered with excitement. ‘My parents are to give a ball in honour of our new neighbour. I fainted when I heard the news. Mama had to call for the smelling salts. Papa has agreed to the ball.’
‘You mean the most important thing to happen to the district since the Napoleonic War.’
‘War is utter tedium and boredom.’ Miss Bolt gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. ‘The only good part is the number of men in uniform. Both Carlisle and Newcastle are full to the brim with soldiers. Lovely, lovely red coats and gleaming buttons. They add such colour to a party.’
‘We received our invitation yesterday.’ Diana forced her face to stay bland. Penning her regrets was a task for this afternoon. Simon might go if he liked, but she would find a reason to avoid the ball. She always did.
‘You and your darling brother must come. You missed the St Nicolas Day ball in Newcastle last Christmas and you must not miss this one.’ Miss Bolt gave a clap of her hands. ‘I knew if it was in the neighbourhood, all the eligible bachelors would come. I shall be quite in demand. I told Mama that. A woman who is in demand soon attracts the eye. It is only a matter of time before I make a brilliant match, one which is well suited to my station. Forgive me, Miss Clare, if you think me proud, but I only speak the truth.’
‘Indeed.’ Diana’s jaw tightened and she forced her smile to remain in place.
‘It would be so lovely if we had more entertainment in the district. Then, we should not have to venture quite so far afield in search of culture.’ Miss Bolt stuck her chin in the air. ‘Culture is very important to me. It is the foundation of society.’
‘You are forgetting about the Grand Allies routs. And the Sarsfields’ musicales.’ The idea that the Bolts were the final arbiter of culture in the Tyne Valley grated on Diana’s nerves. They had only arrived here when Sir Norman’s great-aunt had died and he had finally come into his inheritance. ‘The elder Miss Sarsfield plays the spinet beautifully.’
‘True, true, but I thought her Chopin was a bit sharp last week. It laid waste to poor Mama’s eardrums.’ Miss Bolt tapped a finger against her mouth. ‘There again, you were absent, weren’t you?’
‘Unavoidable. One of the servants had come down with a chill.’ Diana forced her lungs to fill with air. The excuse was threadbare, but she had discovered it was far easier to keep to her rules if she avoided entertainment wherever possible. ‘It sounded pleasant enough to me when I heard the dress rehearsal.’
‘Dear Miss Clare, if you could but hear what passes for music in the great drawing rooms of London…’
‘I have been to London, Miss Bolt.’ Diana held back a stinging retort. A lady must be polite, but Miranda really was insupportable. ‘I even managed to attend several musicale evenings there when I had my Season.’
‘The London Season. I have tried and tried to convince Mama of the necessity of a London Season. A proper one, with vouchers to Almack’s.’ Miss Bolt put her hand to her mouth. ‘My dear Miss Clare, I nearly forgot how trying the mention of London and the Season must be to you. Mama has warned me and warned me, but my tongue goes flippety-flop.’
‘Why should the mention of London be trying?’
‘You know the disaster.’ Miss Bolt lowered her voice and her blue eyes shimmered as she put a hand briefly on Diana’s elbow, a show of false concern. ‘Every time I think about it I want to weep. Mama remarked on it the other day and how it should be a lesson for me, a lesson I intend to take to my heart. Dear, dear Miss Clare, when I go to London, I shall be a success. I will not be a wallflower.’
‘I wish you every opportunity.’
‘And I will take every single one, I can assure you of that. I am meant for a viscount or an earl at the very least. It is too bad that the royal dukes are so very old.’ Miss Bolt gave her curls a little pat. ‘With my looks, breeding and Papa’s fortune, a title should be within my grasp.’
‘One should always aim for the attainable.’
‘How very witty of you. The attainable, not the unattainable. I will remember that. I collect witticisms so that I can repeat them to my friends.’ Miranda Bolt gave another trill of laughter. ‘There again, did you?’
‘Did I what?’ Diana stared at Miranda Bolt. Was Miss Bolt entirely without reason this morning? The young woman seemed intent on ignoring all of Diana’s attempts to end the conversation.
‘Aim for the attainable,’ Miranda Bolt replied with maddening complacency. ‘Is that why it was a disaster?’
‘My situation hardly compares to yours.’ Diana gritted her teeth. ‘I returned to Northumberland for family reasons.’
‘It must be so hard getting old.’ Miss Bolt tilted her head to one side and gave her parasol a twirl. ‘Every broken sleep shows. Mama told me. It is why I take such care with my complexion.’
Diana counted very slowly to ten. Passionate emotion was the enemy of reason, but the thought of Lady Bolt and her odious daughter pitying her after all these years was insupportable. ‘I believe your mother will be looking for you.’
‘Mama is always searching for me. It is part of our little game.’ Miss Bolt gave a gasp and a tremulous giggle as she lifted her reticule. ‘Is that…? Can it be Lord Coltonby’s carriage?’
Diana felt a prickling at the back of her neck and turned to see a smart yellow curricle. A tiger held the heads of two sleek bay horses. The lines of the horse proclaimed speed and the need for a firm hand on the ribbons. ‘It may be.’
‘He made his own fortune, you know,’ Miranda Bolt continued on, her cheeks becoming infused with pink. ‘Papa