How To Rescue A Rake (Book Club Belles Society 3) Read online

  Diana was dancing with Jonty when she saw Mrs. Ashby and her colorful niece arriving. That was not going to please Elizabeth, she mused, wondering what would happen when her cousin saw they’d been invited. Currently holding court beside the buffet table, Lady Plumtre was in her element among those grander folks she considered worthy, a queen bee showing off her husband’s ancestral home, tonight able to ignore the fact that her living quarters were in the lodge by the gates.

  As the evening wore on, Diana danced continually. There was no shortage of partners and no time to rest, but she looked eagerly for Nathaniel, and at last, there he was.

  * * *

  Nathaniel spied her almost at once because, despite the crowd, her elegance and grace stood out just as they always had before. In her virginal white gown she looked seventeen again. Suddenly all those years since did not exist.

  He crossed the floor to where she stood. When she turned and found him there beside her, Nathaniel took her hand without a word. Again, he would not spoil the music, knowing what it meant to her, how she enjoyed every note. When she began to speak, to admonish him for being late, he silenced her with a finger to the lips and a softly muttered, “Say nothing, Miss Makepiece. Not yet.”

  “But I—”

  “Do not spoil the beauty of the music. I requested the piece especially for you.”

  And as soon as she heard the first strains of the violin, he knew she recognized it as the tune that had entranced her at the concert. She smiled, her eyes glistening with gold and emerald. “This is not fitting music for a ball, surely,” she whispered.

  “Have you ever known me to follow the rules, Miss Makepiece?”

  “No,” she admitted with a wry smile.

  “Then even if nobody else takes to the floor, you and I shall dance. We can’t let the music be wasted, can we? This is special, for you and me. It is our music, whether it’s for a ball or not.”

  He led her out onto the floor and every face turned toward them. Many folk had taken seats when they heard the first soft notes, assuming this to be a piece of interval music and expecting refreshments of some kind.

  But Nathaniel would dance with the woman he loved and to hell with what was usual. Jigs, minuets, and cotillions were for ordinary people. He and his beautiful Diana—who was anything but ordinary—would dance to their own music.

  Tonight Miss Makepiece was seen and admired as she should be, brought out of her corner and into the light of those fine chandeliers. He was proud to dance with her and felt every envious eye upon him.

  Her gloved fingers were laid gently over his, but he stroked them discreetly with his thumb. It was the most contact he could expect for now.

  As they danced, there was no more speaking. The other guests were hushed, startled perhaps by the odd choice of music and not knowing what to do. Only the Bach could be heard, soaring around them.

  And since they were dancing without conversation, Nathaniel let her know with his eyes how stunning she was tonight, how glad he was to dance with her.

  Later he would ask her whether George Plumtre had proposed yet. Although he was quite sure she’d turn the fellow down, he didn’t want the Plumtres—or her mother—holding him to blame. It must be entirely her choice and seen to be.

  As their music came to an end, so did their tranquil moment of solitary togetherness. Susanna hurried up to Diana and asked if she had seen Daisy at any point in the last half hour. Nathaniel said that he thought he had seen her with a group of young people going out through the glass doors and onto the terrace for some air.

  Susanna groaned. “She’s going to ruin her dress outside in the mud and Jonty will be furious. I promised to keep an eye on her but she slipped away.”

  “We’ll find her,” Diana assured the anxious girl. “I would like some air myself. Go back to your partner and enjoy the dance.”

  * * *

  They went out onto the pretty terrace, ostensibly to admire the starlit sky and the blooming roses on the trellis. But Diana was in need of a kiss.

  Fortunately, Nathaniel was of the same mind. He drew her behind a particularly lush climbing rose and kissed her.

  “Thank you for the music,” she whispered. “How clever of you to remember.”

  “How could I forget? That music will forever be etched in my mind as I heard it the night Diana Makepiece first held my hand in public and caused a scandal.”

  “You’re late. I began to think you would not come. That my cousin had chased you away.”

  He grinned. “Trust me, she tried.”

  Diana reached up and drew her fingers down his cheek, then across his lips. While they were dancing and he’d forbidden her to speak, she’d had so many things she wanted to say, but now they stood in silence. Somehow that was more meaningful than if she had exploded in chatter. She’d never known him this quiet, this calm. It was as if he’d finally worked all that restlessness out of his soul.

  But perhaps she just hoped that was the case.

  “Has George spoken to you?” he asked.

  “George? Why? About what?”

  “I believe he is going to propose.”

  She frowned. “To me? What for?”

  Nathaniel laughed softly. “Then I know what your answer will be. Let him down gentler than you once did me.”

  “I told you I don’t want a husband.”

  Those blue eyes grew misty. “You are decided. Yes, I remember.”

  “I can be free to do as I please. Like men. Why not?”

  “Because you’re not a man. You’re a woman.” He began to sound annoyed, his voice tight.

  “But I will no longer be bound by the constraints of propriety, Sherry. And in the eyes of most people, since I have not married and produced babies, I’m not even a woman. Therefore, I shall act like a man and enjoy a satisfying love life.”

  His brow creased. “Diana, you take this rebellion of yours too far.”

  “What’s the matter, Sherry? This recklessness is what you find admirable. Or is it different when a woman takes control?”

  Suddenly she heard voices shouting, a shriek of alarm. They both turned toward the sound.

  “Was that Daisy? What on earth is she up to?”

  Their quarrel cut short before it had properly found its pace, they hurried down the terrace steps and across the lawn, following the noise and a darting, leaping flame that led them toward the lake in the distance.

  * * *

  Daisy was halfway up the unfinished marble steps of her brother’s partially built folly. With her were several young people from the ball, two of them holding lit torches.

  As Nathaniel neared the scene, he shouted sternly at Daisy to stop at once and climb no further. Diana added her plea to his, and the young girl paused to look over her shoulder. She was laughing, her face pink in the flickering torchlight.

  “I am not afraid,” she exclaimed. “They dared me to climb up. It’s more difficult than that silly tree.” Apparently she didn’t care that she was showing her ankles, or that her brother had expressly forbidden her from entering the folly until it was completed.

  Nathaniel glared at the young men and women present. They now looked rather sheepish, as if they wished to slink away and hide in shame for encouraging this display. Once again he ordered the wayward Daisy to stop and come down. He could see the marble was slippery from that day’s rain, and in a panic he envisioned her tumbling to the hard ground below.

  But she laughed madly. And then she leaped, taking flight and shouting for him to catch her.

  A split second later and he would have dropped her, but somehow he caught the reckless bundle and set her on her feet.

  Diana began to admonish the girl, but she was laughing again, exclaiming at how much fun it was to fly through the air. “Don’t be such a fusspot! It was nothing.” The girl turned boldly to her
audience. “And now you owe me a guinea!”

  “I suggest you go back to the house,” Nathaniel said. “Your sister is looking for you, and you shouldn’t be out here in the dark so far from the ball.”

  “I don’t know why you’re being a fearsome grump,” the girl exclaimed. “You’re usually much more fun, Sherry!”

  He frowned. “There is a time and a place, young lady.”

  Diana said gently, “Do come back to the house, Daisy. You’ll get your lovely gown ruined out here.”

  The girl seemed to relent. She heaved her shoulders, pouted, and started walking out of the folly, but suddenly she ran back to climb the unfinished stairs again. This time her feet slipped worse than before as she climbed with more speed and less caution.

  Nathaniel shouted at her. She laughed down at them.

  “You didn’t think girls could climb. I told you I wasn’t afraid of anything, didn’t I?”

  “Daisy!”

  Her next step was interrupted when she caught her toe in the hem of her gown.

  Nathaniel lunged forward to catch her, but he was too slow this time.

  The small figure tripped, lost her footing, and fell through the air to land—so it seemed to him—directly on her head.

  With everyone screaming around her and chaos breaking out, the limp girl opened her eyes and groaned, “Oh, fergalumph!”

  Then she fainted.

  * * *

  Nathaniel carried her back to the house, and Diana organized the girl’s friends into an orderly procession behind him. There was no point in everybody panicking, as she told them. No point in calling out who was to blame.

  “Take her through the kitchen,” she whispered to Nathaniel. “We don’t want the guests to see her like this. I’ll take the others back into the ballroom and get her brother.”

  He said nothing but merely nodded, his face white, his eyes staring. As he carried the unconscious bundle, blood leaked from Daisy’s brow onto his coat.

  Diana laid a hand on his arm. “You could not have prevented it, Nathaniel.”

  Again he nodded. She left him at the kitchen door and quickly steered the other young people around to the terrace, advising them to say nothing to anyone about the incident. She would not want Mrs. Plumtre to hear of this until there was time to prepare her gently. And time to clean the alarming blood from Daisy’s brow.

  On reentering the ballroom through the French doors, she spied Susanna and quickly told her what had happened. “Do you know if there is a doctor here? Anyone with some medical knowledge?”

  Wide-eyed, Susanna nodded. “Doctor Smith and his wife.”

  “Good. Find them and take them to the kitchen as discreetly as you can.”

  Having given Susanna this task to keep her busy, Diana searched for Jonty. Unfortunately, as she was informing him of the tragedy, his wife came up behind them and demanded to know what they were whispering about.

  From then on, there was no chance of keeping the accident from being known by all the guests. Within moments, Elizabeth’s overwrought and utterly unnecessary shrieks could have been heard from every room in the manor house.

  * * *

  The injured girl was laid on a settee by the fire and examined by the family doctor. She still had not regained consciousness. Her mother wept; her elder brother was near frantic. Lady Plumtre raced around the kitchen creating more havoc and providing no assistance.

  But Diana remained calm and capable, making tea and listening attentively to the doctor, then relaying everything to the girl’s mother in uncomplicated terms. Comforting everyone.

  Nathaniel watched it all unfold, feeling useless and accusing himself of having inspired the girl to attempt her daredevil antics. No one else had pointed a finger of blame in his direction, but they did not have to. He had felt it keenly himself from the moment her foot slipped on the wet steps.

  Reckless Sherry. Had he not been so eager to impress Diana by climbing a tree, the thought of such activity would probably never have formed in the girl’s head. But young Daisy had followed him around, looked up to him, and constantly tried to assure him that she was fearless.

  He had laughed and teased. Encouraged her mischief, when he should have known better.

  Lady Plumtre was the first to turn and look for him as these same thoughts apparently occurred to her. “I suppose ’tis no wonder you were there when she fell, Captain,” she said. “She was showing off for you, no doubt.”

  Before he could respond, Diana said firmly, “The captain was trying to stop her. She wouldn’t listen. It is not his fault that she fell.”

  Nathaniel stood. “I should have caught her. I was too damn slow.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Diana exclaimed. “She would have leaped whether you were there or not.”

  He shook his head.

  “You have been nothing but trouble for this family,” said Lady Plumtre, her eyes now fully dry and gleaming with their customary hot spite. “Now this. A young girl’s life snatched away from her because of you. I hope you are content, Captain.”

  George dashed in, having belatedly heard the news. “What happened?” He drew himself to a fast halt when he saw Nathaniel. “You, sir?” He had seen his sister-in-law pointing her accusing finger and, without knowing anything about the circumstances, seemed ready to believe the worst. And to act upon it.

  “I ought to call you out,” he blustered. “I should indeed. Where are my dueling pistols?” Turning in circles and nervously clutching the front of his waistcoat, George looked for some invisible valet with that nonexistent box of pistols.

  Diana began to explain to him that the captain had not caused this accident or done anything untoward, but George was overexcited and seemed anxious to impress somebody.

  When she looked for Nathaniel again, he was gone.

  “There he goes. Sneaking off like a criminal,” said Elizabeth smugly.

  Her nerves frayed, Diana could not bear another moment of her cousin’s meanness or her selfish disregard for others.

  “Elizabeth,” she murmured quietly, “have a thought for someone other than yourself. Think of Daisy, of her mother. This is no time for accusations.”

  Her cousin’s voice rose another pitch. “How dare you presume to tell me what I should think? Daisy is my sister-in-law. Not yours.”

  Jonty abruptly turned to his wife and snapped, “Be silent, Lizzie, for pity’s sake. Diana is right. This is not about you. For once something is not about you.”

  Elizabeth’s face drained of all color. She swayed, her mouth falling open, but she was rendered speechless.

  While George continued to rant and rave about “calling the villain out,” he made no move to go anywhere but instead sat on the nearest chair and poured himself a glass of wine.

  Diana ran out to find Nathaniel passing through the hall, going out into the night.

  “Nathaniel! Don’t listen Elizabeth. No one blames you for this. Of course they don’t!”

  He stopped, his head bowed, looking unusually dejected. “I blame myself, Diana.”

  “No! That is quite ridiculous.”

  “There is a certain amount of truth in what your cousin said. I’ve caused you trouble, Diana. I should have stayed away from you when I found you here, but I couldn’t.” He shook his head, his lips tight. “I couldn’t! Now your mama has more reason to despise me. Not that she required any.”

  “I don’t care.” She had thought this was about Daisy, but he seemed to have more on his mind.

  “I do,” he replied firmly. “I’ve been careless too often.” He stared at her, his eyes full of sadness and disappointment in himself. “Please let me know how she fares. If there is anything I can do…”

  Diana whispered, “Yes.”

  “I’ve got to go… I… Good-bye.”

  In the next breath
he was gone.

  She stood in the hall, a breeze through the open door playing with her skirt. She had gotten a little blood on her lovely new gown, she realized.

  There was no time to go after him because she ought to be with Daisy, keeping the others calm.

  But why had he said “good-bye” that way? As if this was the end.

  Twenty-five

  Jonty and his mother appointed Diana to sit with Daisy. They thought her the best person for the role, the most capable, the kindest. Although overwhelmed by the extent of their trust in her, Diana did not mind the task. It gave her time to get her thoughts straight and kept her out of Elizabeth’s way. The invalid had regained consciousness, but she was not yet herself and did not want many visitors. She enjoyed nothing as much as Diana sitting by her bed and reading to her. The days and nights passed quietly in this fashion.

  Nathaniel had called on Mrs. Plumtre the day after the tragedy and brought with him the best physician in Bath—a specialist in head injuries—to examine Daisy. The man dutifully looked his patient over, conferred with Dr. Smith, and pronounced her “a very lucky young lady.” He had no doubt she would recover fully, given time.

  Mrs. Plumtre had assured Nathaniel that no one laid any blame at his feet. “But I do not think the fellow believed me,” she told Diana. “He looked so distraught, poor man.”

  He visited every day for a week, bringing flowers and gifts for the patient, but he kept his distance from Diana. The patient, meanwhile, being a young lady of generally stout health and even stouter defiance against lying in bed, soon rallied.

  One day, just as Daisy was improved enough to complain about her egg not being boiled the way she liked it, there was interesting news.

  Susanna ran into the room to announce that George was engaged to Mrs. Caroline Sayles.