How To Rescue A Rake (Book Club Belles Society 3) Page 21

  Mrs. Ashby considered this quietly and seemed to take some comfort from it. After that she often sought Diana’s side in the evenings, and over time her conversation became a little more cheerful. “Captain Sherringham said I should listen to your advice, my dear,” Mrs. Ashby said one evening. “He said you have a steady, serene way about you, and he was quite right.”

  Diana felt her cheeks warm. She happened, at that moment, to glance over and catch Nathaniel watching her while pretending to peruse a shelf of books. He looked away at once, pursing his lips in an idle whistle, hands behind his back. Very nice thighs, she thought suddenly. And immediately cursed herself, remembering that she was not Daisy Plumtre and ought to have more on her mind than a man’s thighs, however splendid.

  Caroline Sayles took advantage of her aunt’s welcome at Wollaford and the Plumtres’ generous hospitality, trailing along to dinner at the manor and eating and drinking as much as she could—even in her advanced state of infirmity, for she continued to be a lady of many ailments. The suffering and tending of these varied maladies made up most of her conversation.

  Diana tried to sympathize with the lady and listen to her problems, but they were numerous. The only other person who took any interest in Caroline’s illnesses was George Plumtre who, having lost his fiancée to a sudden and virulent fever, considered no discomfort too small to be taken seriously, no pain or symptom too slight to be ignored.

  “One must take precautions,” he said, hovering on the edge of his seat. “One should never overlook these things. They can soon become much worse.” A moment of faintness, he assured the wide-eyed Mrs. Sayles, could strike a person down within hours.

  Elizabeth despised the woman, considering her “common,” an uninvited intruder. “Caroline Sayles ought to be on the stage,” she muttered. “I have never known a creature so desperate for attention.”

  Diana was amazed, as always, by her cousin’s utter lack of self-awareness.

  She felt sorry for Elizabeth. Her cousin would never realize how she left herself open for mockery, but there was no way to help her. Unfortunately, Elizabeth would never acquire the ability to laugh at herself. That, it seemed, was a Clarendon failing. And surrounded by the rowdy Plumtre family—her opposites in many ways—she was quite out of her depth. It made her more bitter than usual, her nerves stretched thin.

  On the other hand, Diana enjoyed her merry hosts and found herself fitting in more than she had expected. She was still able, however, to stand apart and observe their quirks, to study them from a little distance without becoming too attached, too quickly. It was not in Diana’s character to throw herself into a friendship without caution, but once her trust was fully earned, her loyalty formed, the connection could never be broken.

  She liked Susanna and Daisy and found them very entertaining, but they were indeed wild and somewhat unpredictable. She proceeded warily with that friendship, yielding a little more each day to their rambunctious spirits. Their mother was easier to endure from the beginning. Nothing seemed to trouble the lady unduly, and her soft voice was never raised except in happy exclamation.

  As much as the Plumtre girls and their mother clearly celebrated having an appreciative guest to show around Bath, the uncomplicated pleasure they found in each other’s company when home together doing nothing much was touching. The Plumtres were not afraid to show their affection and to laugh with—and sometimes at—one another, but never viciously. It saddened Diana when she compared their relationship to the difficult one she had with her tightly bound mother.

  The sisters were enthusiastic about everything, except for lessons that required them to sit still, and their mother appeared to have no wish to discipline. Her laughter could often be heard encouraging the girls in their misbehavior, even when she later chided them in a halfhearted, ineffectual way.

  When the cook at Wollaford Park had her day off, Mrs. Fanny Plumtre and her daughters spent time in the kitchen together, and Diana was invited to join them. Surprised as she was to see a lady of Mrs. Plumtre’s consequence donning a pinafore and putting herself to work in her own kitchen, Diana learned it was an event to which the lady looked forward.

  “I know I shall not have my girls with me forever,” she whispered in Diana’s ear, her eyes glittering with bright, unshed tears, “and I must make the most of the time we have together. Perhaps I can teach them something at least, the way my mama taught me. I may not know how to play a harp and I can’t dance with elegance, alas, but I can cook! My girls will never go hungry, wherever they are in the world.”

  Diana then observed an extravagant use of flour, sugar, and all manner of exotic spices. Some of which, when she found it later in her hair, caused her to panic that she had suddenly sprouted gray.

  For the first time in her life, she enjoyed cooking and learned that it did not have to be a chore. A recipe did not have to be followed exactly, she realized. It could meander off a little. Like a tune when one hummed it to oneself.

  Mrs. Plumtre showed Diana around the kitchen, larder, and distillery with great pride. Nothing in that place, she noted, went unused. Nothing was saved for a “special occasion,” possibly because the lady approached every day as if it was an event. Diana thought of her own mother pushing precious ingredients to the back of the shelf, never allowing them to be opened. Almost as if she punished herself by keeping them there, yet denying her tongue the joy of tasting those luxurious or exotic spices.

  Did her mother not think herself worthy of pleasure?

  Well, Diana would not be that way. From now on she refused to live in a world without tasting it. All of it.

  Especially proud of her gooseberry wine, Mrs. Plumtre insisted upon Diana sampling a large cupful. The brew had the curious effect of making her tongue and her feet feel soft at the same time, and although the first sip made her wince, she had soon grown accustomed to the sting. The kind lady was so delighted by Diana’s response that she insisted on pouring them both a second cup, and then a third. About that time, Sir Jonty, his brother, and Nathaniel arrived on the scene.

  Out for a ride that day, the three gentlemen had come across a large elm in which a favorite old bonnet belonging to Mrs. Plumtre had sat weathering storms for several years. Apparently it had blown off her head in a gale, landed in the tree, and never been retrieved. Nathaniel was instantly taken with the desire to rescue it. George had assured him that the tree was too high and treacherous, that no one could climb it. Naturally this only made the captain more eager to perform the deed, and when Sir Jonty added the inducement of a wager, it could not be resisted another moment.

  The gentlemen had returned to the house, ostensibly to find a stick of some sort, but Diana suspected Nathaniel wanted to gather an audience of gasping young ladies who might applaud his daring deed.

  Entirely at the mercy of Mrs. Plumtre’s gooseberry wine, she decided to join the others, despite the fact that this was what he wanted and she was, in effect, letting him think she cared. Diana trekked across the grass with them to watch the foolishness as it played out. The show-off would not be content until he cracked his head open, she thought crossly, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand.

  “Oh, do be cautious,” Mrs. Plumtre cried. “It was a good hat, indeed. A very good sort of hat. But I confess I had quite given up on it and managed these past two years without it. I would not want the captain to suffer injury just for a hat I had forgotten and not bothered about for such a time! It is quite pulled about by the weather by now and that tree is a great height to climb. Should we not persuade him to give up the mission, Miss Makepiece? Perhaps you, in your gentle way, could put him off the idea. He listens to you.”

  “I wouldn’t dare try to persuade him to do anything.” Diana swallowed a hiccup.

  The sun was very warm that day and the fresh air, combined with the effects of the gooseberry wine, made her extremely dizzy. As she stood swaying under the tree a
nd watching Nathaniel strip down to his shirtsleeves, she felt the heat more than ever and wished she had a fan.

  All for a wager, she mused scornfully. He had not given up all his old habits, it seemed.

  He glanced over at her as he rolled up his sleeves to expose two broad forearms. “Miss Makepiece, do you too doubt my ability to climb this tree?”

  She shrugged, struggled to curb another hiccup, and exclaimed, “It seems an extreme measure to rescue a hat.”

  “Extreme measures are sometimes necessary.”

  Even if you fall, she thought, I’m sure you’ll look wonderful doing it.

  Alas.

  With a broken broom handle held in his mouth, Nathaniel swung himself up the wide trunk and began his agile climb. The ladies held their breath and Jonty looked on in admiration. George was unimpressed and made certain everybody knew it.

  “I would have climbed that tree if not for the anxiety it might cause my mother,” he assured Diana. “And you too, of course, Miss Makepiece.”

  Nathaniel continued his ascent into the branches and Daisy ran to the foot of the tree. “I can climb too. It doesn’t look very difficult. I am not afraid.”

  Her sister told her to come away and not to be so foolish. “Ladies do not climb trees. Do they, Miss Makepiece?”

  “Certainly not,” Diana managed, trying not to care that Nathaniel’s riding boot had just slipped off a branch and caused her heart to plummet the same distance as she had, in that second, envisioned his body falling. “I cannot imagine a lady would ever have cause to do so.”

  The branch that held the lost bonnet ransom was finally reached. Nathaniel now stretched across it, using the stick to dislodge his prey from its knotted perch. It tumbled down and Daisy caught it with a shout of triumph.

  Accompanied by cheers and applause, the rescuer descended slowly until he was a few feet from the ground and then he leaped, causing Diana’s pulse to race recklessly yet again. The Plumtre sisters circled him in excitement, Susanna holding his discarded riding jacket. “There. I have won my wager,” he said, glancing over at Diana, breathing hard, and looking for praise.

  Oh, he had surely caught her looking at him with admiration for there was a sunny sparkle of surprise in those azure eyes, and then he blinked and drew his hand back through the gilded hair that had fallen onto his brow as he jumped. The gesture made her think suddenly of his muscular form naked. What it might look like.

  She swallowed hard and tasted the wine on her tongue.

  “What a pity I didn’t make the ladies wager too,” he said, half laughing and not looking at her.

  “Oh, I knew you’d manage it,” Daisy replied confidently. “I had no fear.”

  But Diana had. When she thought he might fall she was besieged with apprehension, and in that moment, she knew she would have flown to wherever he lay wounded. And all her secrets would have exploded into the warm spring air. All her passions would have been exposed. All her embarrassing fancies.

  She’d better blame it on the gooseberry wine.

  “I could climb that tree,” shouted Daisy. “Who dares me?”

  “Girls can’t climb,” Nathaniel assured her, laughing and tweaking her nose. “Girls really can’t do much of anything.”

  “Ha! You’ll see, Captain. I’ll show you.”

  “Don’t pay heed to him, Daisy,” said Diana cockily. “He only means to goad you. Everybody knows women are the superior gender.”

  He spun around to survey her carefully, eyes narrowed against the bright sun. “And how do you reach that conclusion, Miss Makepiece?”

  “Because we do not really need men. What good are they? Whenever there is anything difficult to be done, anything requiring great internal strength, it is left to the women. Men get out of it whenever they can.”

  “Such as?”

  Diana chose the first thing she could think of. “Childbirth!”

  “Oh Lord!” He stretched out his arms in a gesture of supplication. “Whenever a woman raises the subject of childbirth, I know I have lost the argument.”

  Mrs. Plumtre chuckled. “Aye, Captain, best give up. We ladies have the stronger case.”

  “But Miss Makepiece forgets one important factor.”

  “I do? What?”

  He didn’t put his coat back on, but strode over to where Diana and Mrs. Plumtre stood. “A lady cannot bear my child,” he whispered, “until I first plant the seed within her.”

  Diana swallowed as his hushed words trickled through her, wicked and sensuous.

  “She needs me for that, does she not?” he added. “Without my strength to provide her with a babe, her own capacity to bear one has no purpose. It is a moot point.”

  Oh, now her face felt hot. “That has nothing to do with anything,” she exclaimed. “Such a subject!”

  “On the contrary. It has something to do with everything. The mating ritual between man and woman is the very essence of life. And woman, magnificent as she might be, cannot procreate without a man.” He leaned closer. “A strong, vital, potent man.”

  He was trying to shock her, she realized. The man was enjoying her blushes, making the most of her mother’s absence. But was she not doing the same?

  New Diana was bolder than the old one, and she would not let him render her speechless with his audacious conversation. So she answered smartly, chin up. “I don’t want a husband. They’re far more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “Perhaps the right man will one day change your mind.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You were badly treated by a man who broke your heart.”

  Before she could reply to that, he passed Mrs. Plumtre her bonnet, gave a little bow, and smiled broadly. “I am pleased to return this to its mistress.”

  “You are too good, Captain! And you render my daughters more in love with you than ever after that fine display of athleticism.”

  George grumbled under his breath, but Jonty laughed with his mother.

  As they all moved toward the house, Nathaniel hung back to walk with Diana. “It is lucky I have some practice climbing trees, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Is it a skill you need often, Captain? At your age?”

  “Only when extreme measures are necessary. When I have exhausted all other methods to get a lady’s attention.”

  She had noticed a stray leaf on his sleeve, caught in the roll of linen at his elbow. Had it not been for that wine, she probably could have ignored the leaf. But just then it seemed extremely important that she reach over and pluck it free. Her fingertips felt the heat of his strength through the sleeve. Sunlight tickled the hairs on his arms and made them glow.

  His steps slowed, almost to a halt.

  Diana stumbled over a clump of grass and knocked into his arm as it swung at his side. She could feel the contact in every part of her, every inch. Her thigh brushed against his and then, with both hands on her waist, he steadied her. Of course he should not put his hands on her. It was an impulsive move with no thought for what was proper, but he did not instantly let go and she did not protest. The others had walked on, Daisy still loudly assuring them all that she could climb a tree, or anything else, with as much ease as a man.

  Nathaniel’s gaze stroked Diana’s body and meandered upward to her lips.

  “The sun has put a bright glow on your cheeks, Miss Makepiece. And you’re breathing very hard. Or perhaps it was the anticipation of seeing me fall. Dare I hope you worried for me, my excessively large head, and other parts of my potent, male person?”

  Diana struggled to remember that he was a flirt by nature and that this was how he teased all women. She smiled haltingly. “I fear, Captain, it is not the sun or any thoughts of you making a dent in the ground that has me in an unusually unsettled state, but rather gooseberry wine.”

  His brows lifted. “Indeed?”
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  “A little too much gooseberry wine.”

  “Tsk-tsk. What will become of you so far from home?”

  A bold reply flew out of her. “I cannot wait to find out.”

  He tipped his head to one side and squinted down at her, as if trying to read something written on her face.

  “I mean to try everything I never did before,” she added. “No more jars left unopened.” She waggled a finger before his face. “Nothing saved for a day that may never come.”

  “I do not like the sound of this, Miss Makepiece.” His nose twitched. “You have an air of rebellion about you.”

  She laughed. “Do I? Good. About time, don’t you think?”

  Apparently he was unsure about that. “I see I must be the somber one for a change and keep you out of trouble.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps I shall take to climbing trees,” she warned saucily.

  “At least I know you don’t want a man. I won’t have to worry about that.”

  “That’s not what I said,” she replied. “I said I didn’t want a husband.”

  The Plumtres had just turned to see where the captain and Diana were. He still had his hands on her waist, and she belatedly pulled free to rejoin the others before her mildly dizzy state caused her to do or say something even naughtier.

  Nineteen

  A few days later, while the ladies were shopping on Milsom Street, rain came down and threatened to cut their outing short. They took hasty shelter in a tea shop and as they clustered by the window, who should happen by with a handy umbrella but Captain Sherringham and Mrs. Sayles. Diana had been watching for the carriage that George Plumtre had hurried off to fetch for them, when she saw two people passing. At that same moment Nathaniel saw her and immediately turned his steps, heading inside the shop.

  Her heart picked up into a canter. Since that gloriously sunny day when she, under the influence of gooseberry wine, had plucked a leaf from his shirt and confessed her desire for rebellion out loud, she had dreaded seeing him again. Would he make sport of her for being tipsy that day?