A Question of Impropriety by Michelle Styles Page A

thought the latter gone, but she had only been slumbering, waiting her chance. But was Diana ready for heart ache? For the pain, for the scandal?
    â€˜Give it a try. You will find it quite simple. Allow my name to flow from your lips.’
    â€˜Brett,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her lips ached as if they had been brushed by his. She touched her fingertips to her mouth. Concentrated hard. ‘There, I have said it. Are you satisfied?’
    â€˜Say it like you mean it. Roll the R’s.’
    â€˜Brett!’ Diana said, through gritted teeth. ‘And I never roll my words.’
    â€˜I would have preferred honey-sweet seduction, but I will take the tartness of vinegar for now.’ He clicked his tongue and the curricle began to move. Diana felt a sigh escape her throat. Of regret? Of disappointment? She refused to ponder the emotion.
    â€˜You are incorrigible.’
    â€˜So my nurses used to tell me.’ His laughter rang out, startling the wood pigeons in the trees.
    â€˜You had more than one nurse?’
    â€˜My brother and I had a succession of nurses. It depended on whether my father was in funds. My mother used to despair. The worst was that the roof leaked. In many ways, I was pleased to be rid of the Abbey after my brother died. Constant repairs and a house so riddled with damp that one should start anew.’
    Diana absorbed the knowledge. ‘But your father was anearl. Surely he had the money to fix the roof and to keep the damp out.’
    â€˜My father was also a poor gambler. He gave in to impulse and failed to do his research properly. Inclined to rush his fences. Neglected to ensure the settlement before his death.’
    â€˜You are wealthy now. Or is that something else Lady Bolt has mistaken?’
    â€˜My wealth is my own, Miss Clare. In that I have proved more adept than my brother or my father. The title I share with my fore bears. There is a difference.’ He clicked his tongue and the horses stirred, obeying every flick of his ribbons. There could be no doubt that the beasts knew who their master was. Their master, but not hers. She refused ever to have a master.
    â€˜Stop! Stop!’ A young girl stepped out in to the road and waved her arms wildly. ‘Please stop, I beg you.’
    Brett pulled hard on the horses and brought the curricle safely to a halt.
    â€˜Jenny Satterwaite, what sort of mischief is this?’ Diana asked before the girl had the chance to say another word. ‘I know about the tricks you and your brother played on Widow Tyrwhitt.’
    â€˜No trick, Miss Diana.’ Jenny drew a line in the dust with her toe. ‘And I did clean out her house, like. Mam said it were proper, like.’
    â€˜Then what is the difficulty? Is it your father again?’
    â€˜No, Miss Diana. He’s back at the mine.’
    â€˜Is some hazard up ahead?’ Brett asked smoothly.
    Jenny shook her head. ‘It’s me mam. She’s stuck. Stuck in the stair well and there ain’t none that can help. Me and Jimmy have pulled and pulled, but she ain’t moving.’
    â€˜How did it happen?’
    â€˜The stair boards were loose, but no one has fixed them.We’ve been waiting for the new lord to come. Me mam said he would put it right.’
    Diana shifted uncomfortably, not daring to look at Brett. She could not bear it if he refused this child.
    â€˜He is here and he will help if he is able.’ Brett leapt from the curricle. ‘Do you have someone who can hold the horses?’
    Jenny’s brow puckered. Then she nodded. ‘Jimmy can. He loves horses. Da is hoping to get him a job at the mine as soon as there’s an opening.’
    She ran off back in to the house, shouting. Diana stared at Brett in astonishment. What did he plan on doing? ‘Shall we send somebody out?’
    â€˜Forgive me, Miss Clare but you will be slightly delayed. I believe this woman has the greater