Read Amanda Scott for Free Online Page A

instead, to Edinburgh, where they had visited the castle and where they had stayed with friends of his. But the change had been setting in even then.
    She had no longer had quite the same urge to flatter his every whim by then, of course, but he had seemed to go right on expecting her to bow to his slightest suggestion, and, worse, he had begun to take umbrage when she did not. And he had objected, loudly, every time she had so much as smiled at another man. Diana’s independent spirit had rallied quickly under such Turkish treatment, and a not so private war had raged between them ever since, much to the delight and consternation of friends in the beau monde . They were an on dit .
    Her thoughts came back to the present, and she wondered if Simon would arrive during the night. The rain still drizzled steadily, so he had probably racked up for the night by now, but he would no doubt arrive in the morning. She would need a good night’s sleep if she was to deal competently with him in an angry confrontation.
    That was her last sensible thought before sleep finally claimed her, but her dreams were by no means peaceful, and the muted clatter and crunch of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels on the gravel drive beneath her window the following morning snapped her to an upright, wide-awake position straight out of her troubled sleep.
    “Simon,” she whispered, snatching back the covers and springing lightly from the bed to hurry, barefoot, across the chilly floor to the window. Hastily, she pushed aside the heavy curtains and shoved open the casement to peer anxiously down at the sunlit scene below.

3
    B RIGHT SUNLIGHT FROM A cloudless blue sky sparkled on puddles and green grass, on glistening bare shrubbery, and on the irregular, picturesque landscape designed some years before by Humphrey Repton for the Viscount Ethelmoor. Ethelmoor Hall had been designed by the architect John Nash to settle comfortably into the broken landscape of the Wiltshire valley in which it was situated. The viscount had desired to build a modern house in a parklike setting for his bride, and that was exactly what Nash had built. Repton, his partner at the time, had designed the landscaping to suit the same modern taste, which demanded that one’s house be incorporated into its natural setting. Consequently, the park at Ethelmoor came practically up to the house itself, separated from it only by the drive, a broad still-green lawn, and an informal garden, barren of flowers at this time of year, but still sporting neat hedgerows and rich, well-cultivated earth. The view was the thing, and the view this morning was magnificent. Through the thicket of gnarled oak trees at the southern end of the garden, Diana might easily have seen sunlight dancing on the waters of a small lake, had she been at all interested in doing so.
    But Diana had eyes for nothing other than the yellow chaise rolling to a stop near the conservatory entrance. A man leapt from the vehicle even before it came to a complete halt, and as he strode toward the house, he reached up and snatched the chapeau bras from his head, clapping it flat under his arm. Crisp yellow curls were thus thrust into view, and Diana let out a long breath of relief. Her brother had come home.
    The tingling apprehension that had propelled her to the window subsided rapidly, and she was conscious of a sense of disappointment that deepened when, glancing at the little clock on the dressing table, illuminated by a shaft of light from the window, she noted that it was already half past ten o’clock. Perhaps Simon would not come after all.
    Diana opened the pale green curtains properly, letting the morning light flood the cheerful room. A floral carpet of greens and golds covered a good portion of the polished oak floor between the nigh, sea-green-draped bed and the door into the hallway, but the boards between the bed and the window were bare and, now that she noticed, quite chilly beneath her feet. She shut