But it was real all right. Instead of grazing sheep, partygoers wandered between ornate stone statues and down to a large ornamental lake. Most of the women were dressed in attire more suited to the precincts of Covent Garden than the countryside, and those standing closest to the lake were shrieking with merriment, because a man was stripping off his yellow velvet coat and his shirt before striding into the water clad only in his boots and breeches.
Harriet clutched Kate’s arm. ‘Oh, my,’ she whispered.
That lake was deep, and once the water was up to the man’s broad shoulders he submerged himself completely,causing more gasps from the onlookers. But moments later he reappeared and returned to the shallows with water dripping from his thick brown hair and strongly-muscled torso. Bowing to those who applauded, he brandished a gold necklace and there were roars of approval.
‘Next! Next!’ the crowd was chanting, and one of the women instantly unfastened a bracelet from her wrist and threw it into the lake. Another man tugged off his coat and waded in, but Kate found herself still riveted by the man who had just emerged.
He had gone up to a black-haired woman waiting there and was placing the gold necklace around her neck, murmuring something that made the woman laugh. Kate couldn’t see his face, but she could see that his strong shoulders tapered down to slim hips that were quite scandalously outlined by his wet, skintight breeches. A tattoo of a dragon curled down his spine, and Harriet was gasping. ‘Oh, my goodness. Such a sight, Miss Kate. He looks like a pirate!’
Kate couldn’t reply. Her throat had gone dry, because now the woman was coaxing the man away from the lamplight and towards the trees, exactly where she and Harriet stood.
Kate’s heart was thumping. The couple had come to a halt a few yards away and she prayed they might turn back, but no—they’d stopped but only so the man could clasp the woman closer to his bare chest and kiss her fiercely while she clung to him with equal ardour. ‘Dan,’ she was saying as she ran her hands over his muscled shoulders. ‘Darling Dan, I want more of you. Much more—’
Suddenly she squealed. She pointed. She said to the man, ‘My God. Who onearthare they?’
For she had seen Kate and Harriet, and once her shock had subsided, she began to giggle. ‘Dan,’ she declared. ‘I do believe we have two curious young ladies here. Poor creatures, maybe they want to join in the fun.’ Her bold eyes were full of mockeryas she gazed at Kate. ‘Is that right, darling? Jealous, are you? Would you like to learn what a real man wants?’
The man wasn’t laughing though. In fact, he looked very angry. He was staring at Kate, and since he was six foot tall at least, she had to lift her eyes from his spectacular chest to his face. But that was just as disturbing, because in his hooded blue gaze she saw a warning.Beware.
He drawled at last, ‘Who in the name of all that’s holy are you? And what do you think you’re doing here?’
Dear God, this was like her London Season but worse, because she thought she had escaped that nightmare world. She drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t much compared to his, and summoned all the defiance she was capable of. ‘My name is Kate Summerby,’ she declared, ‘and I think, sir, that I should be asking you who you are. What have you done to my aunt’s land? How dare you desecrate her property like this?’
The woman beside him gasped, and because her gown was cut so low, it looked as if her breasts might escape the confines of her bodice any minute. ‘Goodness,’ she said to Kate. ‘Wherever have you sprung from? Surely you know that allthis—’ she gestured towards the house and the lawns ‘—belongs to the Earl of Rivington?’ She laid her hand possessively on the man’s strong arm and Kate was stunned.
AnEarl? She was trying to think of an appropriate response, but the Earl, whose mouth had curled in a kind of bored weariness, was first to speak. He said to Kate, ‘If you are truly Miss Honeywood’s niece, then you should have kept up with the facts. I bought this land from your aunt last summer, with the specific intention of building this house. You are, I think, accusing me of breaking the law. But I should point out, Miss Kate Summerby, that you are the lawbreaker, not me, and you and your companion have no right whatsoever to be here!’
CHAPTER THREE
Daniel Carstairs, the Fourth Earl of Rivington, had been drinking champagne with his house guests since lunchtime. They were all men born to wealth and privilege, and during the two weeks they’d been here they had gone into the town most nights to drink at the inns and play cards for high stakes at Raggett’s club. Dan had told himself he was having fun, though in the dark hours of the night, he wasn’t at all sure that he was. But when some of his friends had suggested he hold a party, Dan had agreed.
More staff were hired, champagne and refreshments were ordered and there was no shortage of extra guests to invite because many of the Londontonhad already flocked here for the summer. They weren’t short of female company either, because several of the men had invited the kind of women who came to parties like this with the intention of having fun rather than hunting marriage proposals.
The one called Bea, with her black hair and knowing eyes, had singled out Dan from the start. ‘My goodness,’ she’d said when she arrived, ‘aren’t you the handsome one? But you look sad. I can soon change all that.’
He wasn’t sad, Dan wanted to tell her. He was angry. Furious, in fact.
He was twenty-eight years old, and he led the kind of life people expected of a man of high rank. No one had ever imagined he would marry for some time yet. Indeed, most knew that his upbringing had not encouraged a fervent desire for matrimonial devotion, since his mother had fled to France with her lover when Dan was only nine and his brother even younger. The boys’ father, bereft and bitter, had packed the boys off to their boarding school the day their mother left for France, and after that it was clear he could hardly bear the sight of them. He said they reminded him of his wife’s treachery.
Dan was twenty-three when his father died and he became the new Earl. His younger brother, Oliver, showed no inclination to marriage, so Dan knew that someday it was imperative he married for heirs and was aware of the kind of wife he should choose. She would be a debutante who would match him in wealth and distinction; she would provide him with sons and would be an excellent Society hostess. He needed, in other words. a marriage of convenience—but not yet,he kept telling himself. He had no desire to submit himself to a lifelong commitment that he’d seen could often bring misery. Everyone knew of Dan’s reluctance to marry, which was why his engagement to Cecily last year had been a Society sensation.
Lady Cecily Thorburn was a widow in her late twenties whose husband had left her a pretty house in Mayfair and a most generous income. Had Dan loved her? He had been temporarily infatuated, that was for sure, and they’d soon become intimate, since Society was tolerant of a widow’s discreet taking of a lover. Gradually Cecily had convinced Dan of her devotion, and in addition to being skilled in bed, she had all the social attributes a man of his rank could require in a wife.
When they became engaged, she begged Dan to have a house built in the fashionable resort of Brighton—but last month, whenthe house was finished and their wedding only weeks away, Dan had discovered Cecily in bed with a young army captain.
It was just the once, she told him. She swore it was a terrible mistake. She begged him to forgive her, but Dan, furious though he was, realised it was his pride that was hurt, not his heart. Even in the depths of his anger he recognised that he had never loved her, and the wedding was cancelled. ‘We have mutually decided,’ he told everyone, ‘that we would not suit.’
Naturally there was gossip, and Cecily was privately devastated, but she knew better than to fight Dan’s decision, since her reputation was the one that would be ruined if Dan revealed the truth. So once more the debutantes began stalking Dan, but to no avail.I’m not giving up my way of life yet, Dan told himself.
He had never spoken to anyone about Cecily’s betrayal, but he was furious that he had allowed her to trick him. Tonight, at his party, he’d decided that Bea was exactly the kind of woman he needed for now—a woman who would demand neither commitment nor promises of eternal devotion, and that was fine, because he wasn’t prepared to give any.
As the party grew wilder, he assured himself that he was having fun. When someone had suggested that each of the women throw jewellery into the lake for the men to retrieve in return for certain favours, Dan was a willing volunteer. He was a free man again, and Bea was making it quite plain what she was after, so what could go wrong?
The arrival of this intruder and her companion, that was what. Miss Summerby’s shapeless brown gown made her look as if she’d already adopted spinsterhood with a vengeance. Her friend was watching him in a way he was more used to—in other words, with considerable female interest—but the lady in brown was still looking daggers at him.
‘My lord,’ she declared at last, ‘I cannot believe you are telling me the truth. My aunt would never have given permission forthisto happen to her land!’
At his side Bea giggled again. ‘Hark at her, Dan. Who on earth does she think she is?’
