Virginia Henley (7 page)

Without batting an eye, Diana removed a glove and held it out.

Peter couldn’t hide a look of disappointment. “You’re not playing fair,” he complained.

“I’m not playing at all,” she informed him.

Christ, she’s like an ice queen,
he thought.
Any other female I’d have down to her shift by now.
Peter knew it would be so much easier if she were amenable to seduction, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He’d have to wait until tonight to do the deed. He’d set the stage carefully so there would be no escape. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. It would be like leading a lamb to slaughter. He murmured, “I’ll settle for the glove, if a kiss goes with it.”

When she lifted her mouth to his, he controlled himself. He was going to get a commitment from this woman one way or another and he only had this one night to do it.
Peter knew he couldn’t afford to make her mistrust him this early in the game, so he brushed his lips across her forehead. As a reward for his good behavior, she stood on tiptoe and touched her mouth to his. When they emerged from the maze, Peter knew he was one step closer to victory!

The evening meal promised to be a most formal affair served in the paneled dining room with its massive Tudor oak refectory table and carved chairs.

After her bath, Diana donned the scarlet corset, then slipped on the new jade velvet gown. She knew she had never looked lovelier and she had never felt quite as seductively feminine as she did tonight. She could not forget the way the Earl of Bath had looked at her, and crushed a wish that he could see her again tonight.

Dinner consisted of six courses and Diana was impatient for the tour of Hardwick Hall that Peter had promised. At the end of the meal, crystal goblets were set before them and filled to the brim.

Peter stood up. “Today’s mores dictate that the ladies leave the table while the gentlemen enjoy their port, but tonight we shall do things the Elizabethan way. This is hippocras, warmed and spiced the way it was served to the Queen over two hundred years ago. I propose a toast to Lady Diana Davenport. Hardwick cries out for a chatelaine as lovely as you to grace her hallowed halls.”

The wine was full-bodied and its warmth spread along Diana’s veins like wildfire. Taking their spiced hippocras, they left Prudence sitting at table while they went off to explore the manor.

He showed her the small lady chapel, the still room where perfume was distilled from Hardwick’s own roses and herbs. In the ballroom Peter had had the servants set ablaze hundreds of candles in the chandeliers, and from the minstrels’ gallery above them, music floated down from what could only be a virginal.

He held out his arms and Diana went into them. As they danced, she closed her eyes and imagined herself truly
in Elizabethan times. She was wearing the identical jade gown with a frothy ruff about her neck. She felt exactly as if she had done this before with another partner who flexed his powerful muscles to lift her high in the gay galliard. She smiled down into his black eyes with happiness, and then his face changed back into Peter’s.

As he set her feet back to the polished floor, he drew her against him and whispered, “Let’s escape out on the parapet walk.” She placed her hand in his, and like two conspirators, they slipped away from the ballroom.

Leaning against the crenellated stones, bathed in moonlight, Diana let the magic of the night wash over her. This small palace was so warm and welcoming, it felt as if it had been waiting for her for two centuries, and now at last she had finally come home. The very atmosphere was charged with romance. Diana knew she had fallen in love, but did not believe it was possible to love the man as she did the house. “You haven’t shown me the Queen’s bedchamber,” she murmured dreamily.

Diana spoke the words he had been waiting to hear. In the darkness, Peter smiled at his own cleverness. “I’ve saved the best ’til last. There is a secret passage,” he whispered.

“No!” she cried, utterly captivated. One of the chimneys opened to reveal steps leading downward. “Won’t we need a light?”

“Just hold on to me, sweet. We’ll feel our way along.” She clung to his hand and placed the other one on his broad back. She could feel the muscle beneath the material and blushed into the darkness. So much strength he kept under control. What would happen if he unleashed that strength? She shivered at the thought. The darkness and the confined space combined with the excitement of the adventure made her breathless. She was ready to scream, when suddenly a door creaked open and light flooded the passage.

Peter drew her inside and closed the secret door behind them. It was the most impressive chamber Diana had ever
seen. It was extremely large with a massive stone fireplace covering one entire wall. Above the mantel was a pair of portraits. One was Elizabeth I in a black velvet gown encrusted with crystals and pearls and the other was a portrait of the first Earl of Bath. His black eyes were brilliant in his darkly proud face.

Before the fire was a pair of “his” and “hers” chairs, hooded against the drafts, and between the chairs was a games table inlaid with ivory and ebony squares. Exquisitely carved jade chessman were set out invitingly.

The far end of the room held bookshelves from floor to ceiling, their leather-bound volumes all embossed with goldleaf. An eight-foot desk with silver inkwells, silver sand caster, and quill holder was covered by letters, documents, and maps as if someone had just been interrupted while hard at work. A four-poster with heavy, velvet bedcurtains dominated the chamber. All was done in the Tudor colors of green and white embroidered with small golden crowns and lions. The entire chamber was fragrant with sandalwood.

“It’s simply perfect,” Diana sighed. In her green velvet gown she became Elizabeth for one magic moment. She closed her eyes, wishing this chamber could be hers. When she opened them, Peter had poured her a glass of bloodred wine. Diana knew she had already drunk enough to make her a little unsteady, but somehow it seemed right to take the wine and behave a little recklessly. She drained the glass and felt a bloodred rose blossom in her breast.

Peter took the glass from her fingers, then pulled her urgently toward him. His demanding mouth came down on hers, forcing her lips to open for him. He deepened the kiss passionately and moved his hands to the fastenings at the back of her gown.

Suddenly the door swung open and Mark Hardwick stepped over the threshold into his chamber. Diana gasped and pulled out of Peter’s arms. Her hand flew to the bodice of her jade gown as the back gaped open.

“Mark! What the devil are you doing home tonight?”

“My business in Bristol was finished,” his brother said matter-of-factly. “What the devil are
you
doing?”

“Proposing, actually. Lady Diana and I are engaged to be married.”

Diana wanted to protest, but all she could think of in that moment was fleeing from the arrogant Earl of Bath’s cynical gaze. It was now palpably obvious that this was his chamber. “Then I suppose congratulations are in order,” the earl said smoothly. “Welcome to the family.”

Diana knew she was totally compromised. If she denied the engagement, she was admitting playing the whore. Her lashes swept down to her cheeks. “Please excuse me, both of you.”

A wave of protectiveness swept over Mark Hardwick. Diana Davenport was so young, so lovely. He wondered if she had any idea that she was sacrificing herself to a brutal young swine.

“Well, are you or are you not?” Prudence demanded as the carriage took them away from Hardwick Hall back to Queen Square.

“Yes … and no,” Diana replied, her thoughts anywhere but on their conversation.

“Well, that’s as clear as mud! And why are we rushing off at the crack of dawn like thieves in the night?” Prudence demanded, mixing metaphors. “It looks like you are running away.”

“I suppose I am,” Diana admitted. She knew Prudence deserved some sort of explanation for her sudden bolt from Hardwick Hall. “The Earl of Bath returned unexpectedly late last night and Peter told him we were engaged to be married.”

Prudence sagged into the corner. “Thank heavens! I thought he’d never get the deed done.”

Diana bristled. “The point is, Peter didn’t ask and I didn’t accept.”

“Details. Inconsequential details. Believe me, if the earl has been informed, you are very definitely engaged.”

“Perhaps,” Diana replied tentatively. She had taken the coward’s way out, asking Mr. Burke to have the carriage take them back to Bath and giving him a letter for Peter.

Last night she had been both angry and humilated that he had compromised her, especially before his arrogant brother. It was as if he had deliberately sprung a trap on her. If she had stayed this morning, there would have been a terrible scene, probably involving both Prudence and the earl, and that was the last thing Diana wanted.

This was strictly between Peter and herself. She intended to have it out with him, in private. But before she did, Diana needed time to sort out her own feelings and come to a decision. At the moment her emotions were in too much turmoil to make a rational decision that would affect the rest of her life.

The trouble was that the moment Peter read her letter, he would come. In her present mood she was likely to lose her temper completely and say things that could never be unsaid. She needed time alone, time to think, time to make her own decision without being influenced.

When they disembarked in Queen Square, Diana realized with dismay that in her great haste her luggage had been left behind. At dawn this morning she had struggled into one of her old-fashioned corsets and donned a most prim and nondescript beige dress with panniers before she approached the very proper Mr. Burke. Lord, she had never felt so unattractive in her life.

She tipped the Hardwicks’ carriage driver generously, because she was so grateful for the speedy getaway. His jaw almost dropped open. Diana bit her lips as she realized she had committed a social gaffe, but she noticed with cynicism that
he did not refuse the money. She picked up Prudence’s luggage and carried it inside.

Her aunt was already in the kitchen giving orders for a restorative lunch. “In the meantime you can make me up a posset of madeira and eggs before I take my nap.”

Diana’s thoughts ran about like quicksilver. If Prudence took a nap, she wouldn’t be missed until lunch. An entire morning to wander on her own was more than Diana could resist. Once she had made her escape, she might even stay out all day. What the hell could Prudence do about it if she did?

Diana wanted to change from the beige dress with its hideous panniers, but if she followed Prudence upstairs she would lose precious time. In a flash Diana was out the door heading toward Sion Hill and Lansdown Road.

When she reached the heights and looked down through the trees at the perfect Georgian city, Diana was filled with a sense of freedom. The soft air was resonant with the sounds of water. She could hear ancient springs trickling down the hillsides as well as the rush of the River Avon as it tumbled over the weir at Pulteney Bridge.

She could see the spires of the medieval abbey, where King Edgar was crowned in the tenth century, and the magnificent curve of The Circus, which architect John Wood had built in the style of the Roman Colosseum.

Diana filled her lungs with the delicious fresh air and knew she had reached her decision. It was so simple, really. She and Peter were engaged, but the length of the engagement had not been discussed. If he would agree to a long engagement, say of a year, then she would let things stay as they were. If not, she would call it off immediately. She would come of age in a few months and have the say over her own money and inheritance. She wanted a year’s freedom before she submitted to a husband’s control. If Peter loved her, he would be willing to wait.

Now that she had made her decision, her cares dropped away like a heavy burden she had been carrying. Her heart
was light again. It was a beautiful morning, she was in a magnificent and ancient city, and the best part was she had the entire day to explore its charms.

Diana began to make her way downhill, turning first left then right, where she found herself in a lane dotted with charming antique shops. The articles in the windows were so tempting, she couldn’t resist going inside to browse around.

Some things were so curious she couldn’t name them. There were dozens of antique brass taps, a painted bathtub with claw and ball feet, ancient stone garden seats, old clocks, spinets, and mandolins. She stopped to admire a medieval tapestry, its colors faded, but still subtly beautiful. Diana was thrilled to her very core to be able to actually see something that had survived since the Middle Ages.

She moved on, then stopped in her tracks as she came upon a display of Roman artifacts.
Surely these can’t be authentic?
she thought, her heart beating faster. There was a bronze helmet with decorated side pieces, a shield, swords in scabbards, and iron daggers.
These could be from the first century!
she thought. As she ran her fingertips over the Roman helmet, she imagined it almost burned her. She drew in her breath in wonder that these things had survived for seventeen centuries. “This helmet belonged to a Roman centurion,” she murmured in awe.

Diana glanced about the shop, but could not see the proprietor anywhere. On a sudden impulse she removed her hat and decided to try on the helmet. She had momentarily forgotten she was wearing a wig. With a muttered oath she tucked up the powdered curls beneath the side pieces that protected the cheeks.

The bronze helmet was unbelievably heavy and when she tried to remove it she discovered that it was somehow wedged upon her head. She heard a loud drumming in her ears. She felt faint and dizzy and her vision became blurred. Then suddenly she went cold. She felt as if cool air were rushing past her. It gave her the strange sensation that
she was moving through space at high speed while standing in one place.

The volume of the noise in her head increased until she felt her eardrums would burst. Her hands went up to cover them, but she felt only the huge bronze helmet making her head ache intolerably. Then she felt herself falling, not just to the floor, but beyond.