it would do to Longford, but every point he'd raised had fallen on deaf ears, and he could not understand it. Had Diana been his, he'd have called Bell out on another pretext, and when it was done, he'd see to it that she lived more discreetly until he got his heir of her. After that, he'd not give a damn what she did. But Lucien was different. Whether out of wounded pride or bitter disappointment, he'd seized upon her indiscretion. He must've cared more about her than was thought, Leighton decided finally.
"The country is a good place to mend a bruised heart," he said softly.
Lucien roused and pushed back the beaver hat to fix his friend with his black eyes. "My dear George, after all these years, you must surely know there is no heart to bruise."
"She must have touched something within you."
Lucien was silent for a moment, and this time he could think of nothing witty or cutting to say. "No," he said finally, "I place the blame for that on Mad Jack."
CHAPTER 5
January 7, 1808
Her father looked up approvingly when she entered the saloon. "Look as fine as fivepence, you do, my dear." His gaze traveled over the fine green lustring gown, then up to the perfectly matched pearls at her throat. "You cannot say I did not do right by you, damme if I didn't." He laid aside the paper he had been reading and rose to inspect her more closely. "Arthur must be besotted."
"I should scarce call it that, Papa."
"Here now—mustn't appear long-faced. He don't like that, you know. Likes to see you smiling." He looked around the elegantly appointed room, nodding his satisfaction. "Giving you the best of everything, puss—you got no reason to mope."
" 'He don't like that, you know,' " she mimicked. "Papa, what about what I like? Have you no care for me?"
"Now, puss—you are but overset at parting with your mama," he soothed her.
"But do you and Mama have to go?" she blurted out.
"Overstayed our welcome as it is, Nell. And after your party, we ain't got reason to stay."
"Then I shall have no one." The very thought of being left there constricted her throat painfully. "Please, Papa— I'd at least keep one of the girls."
"Don't think Arthur likes 'em," he admitted bluntly. "And you got Charles—boy's nearly of an age with you."
"All he can speak of is the war," she retorted. "Besides, he returns to Harrow tomorrow. No—when you and Mama and the girls are gone, I shall die." Her eyes swept the room, seeing not the exquisite things her husband had collected, but rather the walls, and she sought to explain. "It will be naught but a prison here, Papa."
"How can you say so?" he demanded. "Look at you! That gown must've cost Kingsley more'n I spend on your mama in a year! The man's besotted, I tell you! Twelve days of Christmas, and damme if he did not give you something for every one of them! I'd say he means to keep you like a royal princess!"
"Keep me, Papa?—those are the very words for the situation," she muttered. "I shall be like one of the animals in the Tower of London."
"The man dotes on you," he insisted. "And I'd not have you make the parting difficult for your mama," he added defensively. "It would not hurt anything if you was to make her believe you happy, you know."
"Happy? Is this what you would call happy? I would have more than things—indeed, but I do not want them! Look about you," she begged passionately. "See what you leave me!"
"I see an ingrate!" he retorted angrily.
"Look at this house—it's huge! There are so many servants I cannot learn their names, Papa! And the housekeeper—Mrs. Peake—answers only to my—my—" She could not bring herself to say it. "To Kingsley," she finished finally. "When I try to direct her, she tells me not to worry my pretty head, and when I ask for things, she discovers from him whether I am to have them before they are given."
"You will learn, puss—you will learn! It's but new to you, Nell. Already Kingsley is more than pleased with you."
"He would be as pleased
"The country is a good place to mend a bruised heart," he said softly.
Lucien roused and pushed back the beaver hat to fix his friend with his black eyes. "My dear George, after all these years, you must surely know there is no heart to bruise."
"She must have touched something within you."
Lucien was silent for a moment, and this time he could think of nothing witty or cutting to say. "No," he said finally, "I place the blame for that on Mad Jack."
CHAPTER 5
January 7, 1808
Her father looked up approvingly when she entered the saloon. "Look as fine as fivepence, you do, my dear." His gaze traveled over the fine green lustring gown, then up to the perfectly matched pearls at her throat. "You cannot say I did not do right by you, damme if I didn't." He laid aside the paper he had been reading and rose to inspect her more closely. "Arthur must be besotted."
"I should scarce call it that, Papa."
"Here now—mustn't appear long-faced. He don't like that, you know. Likes to see you smiling." He looked around the elegantly appointed room, nodding his satisfaction. "Giving you the best of everything, puss—you got no reason to mope."
" 'He don't like that, you know,' " she mimicked. "Papa, what about what I like? Have you no care for me?"
"Now, puss—you are but overset at parting with your mama," he soothed her.
"But do you and Mama have to go?" she blurted out.
"Overstayed our welcome as it is, Nell. And after your party, we ain't got reason to stay."
"Then I shall have no one." The very thought of being left there constricted her throat painfully. "Please, Papa— I'd at least keep one of the girls."
"Don't think Arthur likes 'em," he admitted bluntly. "And you got Charles—boy's nearly of an age with you."
"All he can speak of is the war," she retorted. "Besides, he returns to Harrow tomorrow. No—when you and Mama and the girls are gone, I shall die." Her eyes swept the room, seeing not the exquisite things her husband had collected, but rather the walls, and she sought to explain. "It will be naught but a prison here, Papa."
"How can you say so?" he demanded. "Look at you! That gown must've cost Kingsley more'n I spend on your mama in a year! The man's besotted, I tell you! Twelve days of Christmas, and damme if he did not give you something for every one of them! I'd say he means to keep you like a royal princess!"
"Keep me, Papa?—those are the very words for the situation," she muttered. "I shall be like one of the animals in the Tower of London."
"The man dotes on you," he insisted. "And I'd not have you make the parting difficult for your mama," he added defensively. "It would not hurt anything if you was to make her believe you happy, you know."
"Happy? Is this what you would call happy? I would have more than things—indeed, but I do not want them! Look about you," she begged passionately. "See what you leave me!"
"I see an ingrate!" he retorted angrily.
"Look at this house—it's huge! There are so many servants I cannot learn their names, Papa! And the housekeeper—Mrs. Peake—answers only to my—my—" She could not bring herself to say it. "To Kingsley," she finished finally. "When I try to direct her, she tells me not to worry my pretty head, and when I ask for things, she discovers from him whether I am to have them before they are given."
"You will learn, puss—you will learn! It's but new to you, Nell. Already Kingsley is more than pleased with you."
"He would be as pleased
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