A Question of Impropriety by Michelle Styles Page B

need.’
    A small boy, a year or so younger than her nephew Robert, came out of the house. His eyes widened when he saw the horses. ‘I thought Jenny was funning me.’
    â€˜If I give you a penny, can you hold these horse? Tight, mind, and don’t let them move.’
    â€˜I will do it, sir.’ The boy stood straighter.
    Brett held out his hand to Diana. ‘Right, shall we see about this woman in distress?’
    They followed Jenny into the cottage and immediately were greeted by a series of moans. Diana’s heart twisted. She had half-expected it to be another one of Jenny’s tall tales, but Mrs Satterwaite was lying half in and half out of the stair well, her face creased in pain.
    Without hesitation, Brett went over and lifted her out. There was a great cracking as the board gave way, but the woman emerged to great squeals of delight from Jenny.
    â€˜Thank you, sir.’ Mrs Satterwaite gave a tired smile. ‘I had no idea how I’d have kept going till them that lives next door came home.’
    â€˜Is there some where you can rest?’ Diana asked. The cottage with its narrow stairs was even darker and danker than she remembered from her visits.
    â€˜Bed’s upstairs. We had to let the down stairs room go and move upstairs now that money’s tight.’
    â€˜Look after this.’ Brett took off his coat and handed it to Diana. Her fingers curled around the warm cloth and held it close. ‘I believe I can fix this—temporarily. Boards, nails and a hammer, if you please, young Jenny Satterwaite.’
    The girl ran off and quickly produced them. Diana watched as Brett nailed the boards in place, covering the rotten patches. Then he tested each of the other stairs. ‘Not perfect, but it will suffice for now. I will send the workmen to fix it properly tomorrow.’
    â€˜Yes, my lord.’ Mrs Satterwaite’s eyes grew big. ‘If you please, my lord, I’ve been telling me man about those boards for an age. He is a good man, Miss Diana. It were just the accident that turned his head.’
    â€˜It will be sorted now. I intend to look after my tenants properly.’ The words echoed in the small cottage. Before, she had thought his words were easy, but now she could see that he meant them. He cared about these people. ‘I trust you have no objections, Miss Clare.’
    He took his coat from her unresisting fingers and they returned outside. Jimmy Satterwaite held the horses. His face was screwed up into an intense look of concentration. At Brett’s approach, the horses pawed the ground but Jimmy clung on with dogged determination, preventing the curricle from moving.
    â€˜I doubt my tiger could have done better.’ Brett handed the boy a coin. ‘Come to my stables. I can always find a job for a boy who’s good with horses.’
    Diana watched the boy run back into the cottage, shouting the news. ‘You are not what I expected.’
    â€˜Neither are you,’ he murmured as the curricle started moving once again. ‘And do I have your leave? May I call you Miss Diana like the Satterwaites do?’
    â€˜If you must.’ She took a deep steadying breath and willed the ride to last a little longer, but already the gates to the Park were looming ahead.
    â€˜Diana, named after the huntress goddess of the moon.’ His voice purred her name, doing strange things to her stomach. ‘Have you been to Italy or Greece, Miss Diana? Have you seen how large and yellow the moon can be as it rises over the sea?’
    â€˜I have only once been away from Northumberland—to London.’
    â€˜A pity. Italy is beautiful, but with the war, Greece is more accessible.’ He slowed the horses to a steady walk. His arm came over the back. ‘I should like you to see Greece with its hidden glades and moonlit beaches.’
    Diana ignored the slight tremor inside her. Words flowed from him as easily as water