Page 12 of A Lady's Wicked Revenge
I remember the summer when Mother took Leah and me to the seaside. The water was so wretchedly cold, and it took Mother half an hour to coax me into the surf! Then when she finally did, I could not be persuaded to leave. I was having such a good time frolicking with my friend. Mother was so patient with both of us, letting us swim and play nearly until nightfall.
I remember being lifted onto the back of my pony Athena for the very first time. The air was so warm and wet and full of straw—I would not stop complaining about the smell, little brat that I was. I was nine, then … or was it ten? I was certainly old enough to mount Athena by myself, but I wanted Father to lift me instead, sensing on some level that I would not remain so portable for much longer. Father was so gentle with me, as though he were afraid I might break if handled too roughly.
She was tugged back to her place in the sunshine by the sensation of something wet brushing against her forearm. Diana’s breath caught in her throat, her body shaking as she realised she was crying.
Mother, Father …she thought, swiping away tears with the back of her hand.Good God, I did not know it was possible to miss someone this terribly.Idly she wondered if anyone had ever died from missing another person too badly.
A distant muffled sound from over her shoulder drew Diana abruptly back into the present. She turned her head to see the same rear façade of the same hateful house she had nearly forgotten in her reverie. It sounded as though a door was slammed somewhere in the estate.Probably Uncle James having another one of his fits of temper,she thought, her mournful tears transforming into ones of resentment and rage.
Whether Uncle James was always this horrid or has grown worse over the years, it makes no difference,Diana reasoned.He means to force me to bend to his will at any cost.From somewhere overhead, she heard the angry call of a black crow—an ill omen, to be sure, and one that suited her dark mood.
A question bubbled to the top of Diana’s consciousness, one she had pondered a thousand times before:Why? Why is he so intent on compelling me to do as he says? What harm is there in allowing me to live my life free of his orders, if only for a little while? I do not want for anything but the time to grieve and the freedom to choose my own husband when I am ready to do so. Whatever could be his reason?
The answer was as immediate as it was infuriating. Diana did not have to wonder about Uncle James’ motivation; she knew it well enough already.Money.
She snorted, feeling her fingers clench into fists.The man seems downright mad about all things financial.The few times James had spoken to her about anything other than the necessity for her to marry, ideally this Gerard Dunn fellow, he’d riddled her with questions about her parents’ finances. How his father had invested their fortune, whether there was some log or account kept out of sight of his friend Jerome Arnold, whether Diana’s mother had had any other jewellery that might have been out for cleaning or stolen by the staff.
The first time Diana had been questioned in this fashion she had dissolved into an incoherent cloud of tears, and Uncle James dismissed her wrathfully … but that had not stopped him from asking her the same questions again, and again, angered nearly as much by the true answers she was eventually able to supply.
Once again, Diana turned to look at the Leeson house. Her eyes narrowed as she took in all the ornate details of the mammoth home, the expense that had clearly been invested in the garden and the buildings. All to make it look as though James Leeson were a rich and important man. How much more money could one man possibly need for himself that an uncle would steal from his niece with such abandon?
I’m not stupid, no matter what Uncle James might think.Whatever money her parents had left her, it was clear he meant to keep all of it for himself. And as her guardian, he had access to all of it.Everything Father worked for, all the money Mother received from her own parents … Uncle James could be taking all of it now to line his own damnable pockets.
I have no doubt that the instant he is successful in marrying me off at a bargain, I shall never see a penny of my inheritance for the rest of my life. It will all be squandered on Uncle James’ appetites or else handed down to that revolting stepson of his …
Suddenly noticing she was wrinkling her skirt by clutching it tightly between her fingers, Diana loosened her grip and smoothed out her garment delicately. She rose, too angry to remain stationary any longer.
Clarity returned to Diana with this movement, so she increased her pace, striding quickly up and down the curves in the path as her skirt flapped dramatically behind her.I suppose Colin might not be as bad as all that, actually,she mused grudgingly. Indeed, not for the first time, she realised she did not know what to think about the odd dark-haired young man.
He was not unhandsome, in his own way; Diana had never seen eyes so deep and green, as though he were a fairy spirit from the forest. As irritating as she had found his banter when they had first met, Diana could not deny that Colin had as sharp a tongue as any man she had ever sparred with. And the expression on his face while she was so vociferously deriding Uncle James at dinner … for a moment, it almost looked as though he was going to speak up in her favour.
No, that’s not right,Diana thought, a scowl returning to her features.He was intervening to stop me from arguing with his stepfather. Even if they share no more blood than Colin does with me, the fact remains that he was raised by Uncle James.That seemed as sure a sign the young man was rotten to the core as any Diana could imagine.Colin must be as terrible as James himself. In all likelihood, he is a collaborator in the man’s plan to sell me off and take my inheritance for himself.
Diana looked up at the sky, seeing that clouds were rolling in with the wind and moving to blot out the sun. The breeze had grown stronger since she had come outside, and all of a sudden, it felt quite cold there in the darkening garden. A gust of wind cut through her light summer dress, shaking her bones and giving rise to gooseflesh on her arms and legs.
Good,thought Diana with an amused tilt of her head.Feeling cold means I’m not dead, not like Mother and Father … not yet. I’m alive—wonderfully, fantastically alive. And not a weak little girl, but a strong young woman. And woe betide the man who ignores the fury of a woman scorned.
A devilish smile came to Diana’s lips as she turned back to look at the looming Leeson house.Well, if Uncle James and his spawn expect me to surrender and play along with their diabolical plans after just a harsh word or two, they do not know Diana Hann. I may not be able to defy the will of the entire English system of law, but I can make the life of a tyrant that much harder while there is still breath in my body.
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the blood pumping through her veins with renewed vigour. Then she marched purposefully back towards the house.
No more mourning, no more sitting in bed and being depressed. It’s time I take my life back, whether Uncle James likes it or not.
Chapter 7
Treacherous Ground
“Mullens, you bacon-faced bastard!” The words echoed through the entryway in a powerful voice full of laughter. “Do you honestly mean to tell me you were really allowed back onto Blighty’s sacred soil without being stopped and clapped in irons? Whatever has become of our kingdom?”
Colin turned away from his conversation with his mother to approach the redheaded young man who stood in the doorway, hat held in the crook of his arm. “Radcliffe,” he said with a warm smile, grabbing the other man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “Thank blazes you’ve come. I was just worried we might have too much food for our own good tonight. I was telling Mother how badly we needed an ill-tempered Merry Andrew to come and eat us out of house and home in a hurry.”
“Only if you don’t serve it to me in a dog’s dish this time!”
At this, Adam Radcliffe and Colin Mullens laughed uproariously and clapped one another on the back heartily. As he detected a disapproving sniff from over his shoulder, though, Colin suddenly remembered where he was and quieted himself immediately. “Come on, Radcliffe. We’d better get a drink in you before unleashing you on Mother’s and Sir James’ other company.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’m told I’m much easier to take after a drink or two.”
Taking Adam by the shoulder, Colin walked quietly but decisively in the direction of one of the quieter salons on the ground floor. Irascible though his stepfather could be, the Leeson household was a common site for dinner parties and other events for their specific slice of London society—generally speaking, James Leeson attracted those middle-class social climbers who yearned to make their way into the top circles of the ton as well as members of the gentry who had fallen out of fashion or out of money in recent years.
