Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane Read online

  His lordship was in no hurry to attract her attention. He was used by now to finding pleasure in the sight of Miss Dane, but she was looking more than usually striking that morning. Her luxuriant hair was caught back simply by a black velvet ribbon, she was clad in a plain gown which showed off her figure to advantage, and her movements had a natural grace as she reached up to the window.

  She stretched further, then the muslin slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor, remaining suspended only by the far corner. "Oh, bother!"

  "Allow me." Marcus stepped forward.

  Antonia spun round on the wooden seat, which tipped precariously, precipitating her into his lordship's arms, which were very ready to receive her. "Oh! My lord... you quite startled me."

  "My fault entirely, Miss Dane." He smiled down at her, causing Antonia's heart to flutter uncomfortably. "We are being very formal this morning, are we not? However, I feel I must mention that something appears to be stabbing me in the right shoulder."

  Antonia hastily dropped her hands; which had been clasping his lordship's coat. It is my pincushion--see, I have it tied to my wrist.

  " She held up her hand to show ~him, and blushed when Marcus caught her wrist between his fingers and bent his head over the ~velvet pad.

  "Marcus," you are tickling me! "

  "I am sorry, I have never appreciated the complexity of needle working devices."

  "Now you are laughing at me."

  "Not at all, but I must wonder why the mistress of the house is scrambling about on chairs when she has servants to do this sort of thing." He released her hand and strolled across the par lout surveying it as he did so. "You have made a great difference here in a short time-l should never have believed this place could look so elegant."

  "Hardly that, although I flatter myself we have made it tolerably comfortable and homely. I have no fear of headless ghouls now."

  Antonia cast him an arch look from under her lashes, but failed to provoke any response other than a slightly raised eyebrow. "And as for the servants, they are assisting Donna with our trunks."

  "In that case, allow me to assist you." He stopped to right the fallen chair and set it to one side. "I believe I can reach the hooks if you will direct me how you desire the fabric to hang."

  Antonia, surprised that his lordship would stoop to such trifles, hesitated briefly before gathering up the muslin and handing it to him.

  "I am trying to achieve a soft curve across the top of the window ... a little more ... a little more fullness on the left---perfect! If you can just secure it there..."

  They stepped back together to admire the finished effect~ "Now, what is the next task?" Marcus asked agreeably.

  "My lord ... I am certain you did not come here to hang curtains! ! really cannot trespass on your time, especially when you have a house party assembled at Brightshill to claim your attention."

  Marcus appeared not to have taken in a word she had said, for he was gazing at her in an abstracted manner, a slight smile on his lips.

  "My lord?" she prompted.

  "I do beg your ~pardon, Antonia, I was quite some distance away. I was in fact in contemplation..."

  "That much was plain, my lord," Antonia responded somewhat acidly.

  "Might I enquire what it was you were contemplating?"

  "Mm? Yes, of course you may. Matrimony."

  "Matrimony!" Antonia's eyes flew to his face: "What can you mean?"

  "I mean that I am intending to make an offer of marriage, Antonia."

  Her heart sank towards her kid slippers as the image of a fragile blonde figure emerging from the post chaise filled her mind. With a great effort of will, she forced a small smile to her lips. 'l am flattered that you regard me as a friend to be confided in on such a delicate matter. "

  He took her hand in both of his and looked straight into her troubled eyes. "I do not make myself plain, Antonia, and perhaps I should not have approached you thus; although, in the absence of either father or brother,..in short, Antonia, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

  Antonia felt as though all the breath had been sucked from her lungs by the shock of his declaration. She knew he found her attractive--his kisses had left her in no doubt of that--but she had never allowed herself to hope that anything more would come of it than a lighthearted flirtation. ~

  She wanted to say 'yes, with all my he arC but her common sense held the words back. After all, he, had made her no declaration of love, but in the past he had made a declaration of another strong motive for an alliance--his desire for her lands. A young lady of her class would be expected by Society to marry for position; yet she had seen at first hand the destructive sadness of a marriage where the love of one parmer--her mother--had not been returned by the other.

  His hands were warm and strong holding hers, she felt his eyes on her face but could not raise hers to meet them, for if she did she knew she would lose all level-headedness, She swayed towards him, wanting to bury her face in his coat front, drink in the scent of him, give herself up to him.

  Instead Antonia took a deep breath, gently freed her hands and sat down in the chair. 'l am very sensible of the honour you do me, my lord," she began, surprised to find her voice so steady when her pulse was leaping.

  "But--you are going to refuse me, are you not?" Marcus's voice was equally steady.

  "Oh, no!" She did look up then, searching his face for emotion and finding none. "I must ... my lord, I must ask for time to consider my answer."

  "I see. You would advise me not to give up all hope, then?" he enquired drily. "How long would you require to make your decision?"

  Chilled by his lack of ardour, Antonia's reply was equally cool. "A few days a week at most." He could at least have seemed disappointed!

  "Then we are agreed: I will raise the matter again a week from today, and until then, we will not refer to it. I trust you will still feel able to dine at Brightshill tomorrow. My sister is much looking forward to meeting you."

  "Your sister?" Antonia was grateful for the change of subject. "Is she married? Is she accompanied by her family?"

  "Yes, Anne is the wife of Charles, Lord Meredith. He will join us later today, but my nephew and niece accompanied their mother."

  "It must be pleasant to have children about the house." They must have been the charming children she saw arriving at the inn, greeting their uncle with so much affection.

  "Indeed: young Henry has already dug holes in the lawn for his cricket stumps and his little sister Frances appears to regard me as an endless source of sugar plums."

  Antonia laughed, remembering the little girl clinging tightly to Marcus's neck in the yard. "You pretend to be severe, my lord, but I can tell you are a fond uncle!" They both seemed relieved that the tension between them had passed. "And do you have many other guests?"

  "My sister was accompanied by a friend of hers, Lady Reed. She comes alone; her husband is at Brighton, commanding a regiment of foot."

  A-friend of his sister's, indeed! Antonia remembered the sharp little feline face smiling up into his with a great deal of warmth and felt a deep stirring of unease.

  "Two friends of mine are also with us already, and my sister is chaperoning a Miss Fitch. Her mother and mine have some matrimonial enterprise in hand, but who the lucky man is to be, I have no idea as yet." "You, perhaps?" Antonia asked lightly.

  Marcus laughed. "Good lord, no! I have it on good authority that she considers me to be almost in my dotage."

  Antonia looked at the tall rangy figure, the thick blond hair, the firm set of his jaw and wondered if Miss ~Fitch was in need of an oculist.

  No, Marcus Arlington was in his prime. Swiftly burying these thoughts she cried, "Unkind, indeed! Why, you cannot be more than five and thirty, my lord."

  "I am thirty, Miss Dane. However I am flattered you consider me so mature." His tone was severe, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement at her teasing.

  "Antonia dear, this hem... Oh! My lord, fo
rgive me, I had not realised you were here." Miss Donaldson had her arms full of dull gold silk which she was trying to conceal without crushing it fatally.

  "I was just leaving, Miss Donaldson, I would not dream of intruding further as you are so much engaged with domestic affairs. Good day, ladies." He paused in the doorway. "I look forward to your company tomorrow evening. I shall send the carriage at seven, if that is convenient. '

  As soon as he was gone, Donna spread the dress out over a chair back tut ting over the creases.

  "Donna, what are you about with my new gown?"

  'l came down for your advice on the length of the hem. But I was so put about by finding his lordship here, I fear I have creased it," her cempanion twittered. " Do you think he will recognise the dress when he sees it tomorrow? "

  "What if he does?"

  "I would not have him know you are reduced to making your own gowns."

  She smoothed it down anxiously. "There, after all, it is not too badly crushed, it will steam out."

  "I doubt whether Lord Arlington, in common with most of his sex, would remember such a thing from one day to the next." Antonia was sorely tempted to tell her companion of Marcus's declaration, but swiftly thought better of it. Miss Donaldson would see no obstacle to acceptance--indeed, would regard it as the ~height of' her ambitions for Antonia, and would never enter into a rational discussion of Antonia's misgivings on the matter. "Now, let me see what remains to be done with this gown, and while we work I will tell you what Marcus told me of his guests."

  "It seems strange to be setting out in evening dress when it is so light," Antonia remarked as they settled themselves against the luxuriously upholstered squabs of

  13 ! the carriage Marcus had sent as he had promised.

  "Not so strange when you consider it is but a few weeks from the longest day," Miss Donaldson observed prosaically. "But for me the strangeness lies in going out into company at all--it must be quite nine months since we last put on long gloves!" She looked down complacently at her own, and adjusted a pearl button.

  Antonia smiled hack, thinking how like a neat little bird her companion was in her elegant dark garnet-shot silk with its modest infill of lace at the bosom. Miss Donaldson had never been a beautiful woman, even in the first flush of youth, but now, in her mid-forties, she had character and style and a surprising taste for fine fabrics and Brussels lace.

  "How pleasant it is to travel in such comfort," Antoniaobserved, running an appreciative hand over the seat beside her. "One would hardly credit that this is the same track over which we are wont to jolt with Jem in the dog cart."

  The observation started a train of thought in Miss

  Donaldson's mind. "It would be such a relief to me to see you settled into a mode of life suited to your breeding she sighed.

  ~"Mmm?" Antonia pretended not to hear. "Oh, do look at the setting sun on the west face of Brightshill, turning the grey stone pink! How very pretty."

  Marcus came out onto the steps as the carriage pulled up, sending Miss Donaldson into a flutter by handing her down with a bow. Antonia, waiting until Donna was safely out, had the leisure to observe his lordship. She reflected that his rangy figure and long well-muscled legs could bear the fashion for tight trousers better than most. His coat of dark blue superfine set superbly across his broad shoulders and his shirt front gleamed white in the now-lengthening evening shadows.

  His glance as he handed her down was openly appreciative and his fingers found, as if by chance, the gap between the pearl buttons at her wrist, lingering caress-ingly on the smooth flesh there. Antonia shivered-and met his eyes. There was banked fire behind the bland politeness of his expression, a danger she had only glimpsed before when he was angry. But he was not angry now. Antonia, recognising raw desire for the first time in her twenty-four years, dropped her gaze and swallowed hard.

  It was only a few minutes later when, still shaken, she was following Lady Meredith's maid to a bedchamber to divest herself of her cloak, that she wondered why he had not shown those feelings when making his declaration. How could she have resisted him then?

  Donna, observing Antonia biting her lip, came over and pinched her cheeks, saying, "Indeed, yes, you do need a little colour, you have gone quite pale, my dear."

  T~he butler was waiting at the foot of the stairs. Not by a flicker of his well-schooled features did he show that he had ever set eyes on Miss Antonia Dane before, although it had been a scant three months since she had been manhandled through this very hall by two-burly gamekeepers.

  "Miss Dane. Miss Donaldson," he announced, throw: rag open the salon doors with a flourish.

  Antonia, summoning up all the poise necessary to confront the patronesses of Almack's in critical mood, straightened her spine, took a deep breath and sailed into the room.

  The men sprang to their feet, but Antonia was conscious only of Marcus's eyes upon her.

  Lord Arlington was accustomed to considering Miss Dane an exceptionally handsome young woman, but he had never seen her in anything other than plain, workaday gowns with her hair dressed simply. Tonight she was resplendent in dull gold silk, her bare shoulders rising creamily above the. seductive slopes of her bosom revealed by thee ross-cut of the bodice.

  Diamond ear drops trembled against the bare column of her throat and her hair had been caught up severely -and allowed to tumble from the crown & la Dido.

  Marcus stepped forward, ruthlessly suppressing the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her insensible. "Miss Dane, welcome to Brightshill."

  "Thank you, my lord? Antonia dropped a curtsy, thrilling to the knowledge that this man desired her. " It is not, of course, the first time I have visited here. " She had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes narrow warily, before adding, " I have a vague memory of coming here with my grandfather, many years ago?

  He turned to greet Miss Donaldson, but not before Antonia caught the hint of a sensual smile of recollection on hE lips. It heightened her recollection of that and' ~i~ kiss in his study and her colour was becomingly warm when he turned to her again.

  "May I make you known to my sister, Lady Meredith and to her friend, Lady Reed." The two ladies rose and exchanged curtsies with the new arrivals, Anne Meredith with a warm smile, Lady Reed with a speculative glance that was not lost on Antonia. "Miss Fitch..." The young lady, only just out of the schoolroom, blushed charmingly at being the centre of attention and retreated hastily to her place beside Lady Meredith.

  ,~

  "May I also present Lord Meredith... Mr. Leigh... Sir John Ollard."

  The gentlemen bowed in their turn.

  Antonia found herself seated next to her hostess, who was making polite enquiries about the move to the Dower House. Within minutes she felt herself quite at ~her ease with Marcus's sister, who appeared to have none of her younger brother's hauteur.

  As Antonia had observed in the inn yard, Anne Meredith shared. Marcus's colouring and bone structure, making her a handsome rather than a pretty woman. She made the best of her looks by dressing d la Turque in dramatic jewel-coloured silks and a turban-like headdress. The regard of her husband was amply demonstrated by the very fine suite of emeralds at her neck and ears and Antonia admired the manner in which she carried off the entire ensemble.

  They were comfortably moving on from the perils of house removal to the best way of approaching the layout of a small pleasure garden when Antonia became aware that someone was watching her intently.

  Lady Reed was quite openly assessing Antonia, her chilly blue eyes moving from the diamond ear drops to the little kid slippers, so newly dyed bronze to match the stripe in the silk. Antonia felt uncomfortably as though she was being priced on a market stall--and being found wanting.

  Nettled, Antonia turned with a chilly smile, determined to outface the older woman. But it was too late; Lady Reed got to her feet and strolled, with maximum effect on the onlookers, to talk to Mr. Leigh.

  Donna had been making small talk with Miss Fitch, an uphill
battle with so shy a child. "Is not Mr. Leigh the younger son-of the Earl of Whitstable?" she enquired.

  "Yes, he is the Honourable Richard," Sophia confided, blushing rosily.

  Ah ha, Donna thought, so that's the way the land lies, amused to see Miss Fitch casting a dark look at Lady Reed.

  The young man in question appeared less than comfortable at being the target for her ladyship's attention. She was resting one small white hand confidingly on his sleeve, her little face upturned to his, her eyes big and appealing as she hung on his every word.

  Antonia caught Donna's eye and almost collapsed into giggles as Miss Donaldson east her gaze ceiling wards Still amused, she glanced round and saw Marcus watching the tableau stony-faced,

  She was speculating upon his thoughts when the butler-announced that dinner was served. Lord Meredith her his arm and the entire party made its way through to the dining room.