Miss Carlyle's Curricle: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix)

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Book: Read Miss Carlyle's Curricle: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) for Free Online
Authors: Karen Harbaugh
only in the last year or so that your uncle thought he had located him.”
    “Thought?”
    Mrs. Carlyle frowned slightly. “I had always believed your uncle should have investigated further a long time ago—I told him he should, ever since his wife died many years ago. I suppose he felt too . . . lost to have thought of it.” She pressed her hand upon Diana’s. “Charles did love Emily very dearly, and never, never blamed her for their lack of children. Not like—” Her voice faded and tears formed in her eyes. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, then gratefully took the handkerchief Diana gave her. Diana bit her lip—she well knew that had she been male, she would have been Uncle Charles’s heir, and it was something she remembered her father saying to her before he died. But she was not, and so the line would continue through the descendants of her great-aunt, Elizabeth Sinclair.
    “He was a good man, love,” her mother continued. “He should have married again, but I think he did not have the . . . the heart to do so.” She bent her head to her tatting again, concentrating on a number of stitches and loops before she looked up again. “But I suppose my urging made him try to find his heir at last.”
    Diana gazed at her mother, uneasiness filling her. Her mother looked at her calmly, tired and worn with grief, but there was nothing else in Mrs. Carlyle’s expression to explain the uneasiness. Diana gave herself a mental shake. Well, life had been uneasy and unsettling altogether—what else could she expect when someone so well liked as her uncle had just passed away?
    “I am surprised Mr. Southworthy did not know of it,” Diana remarked.
    Mrs. Carlyle smiled slightly. “You know how your uncle did not care to discuss his matters until they were dealt with. For all anyone knew, Mr. Sinclair was dead. Your great-aunt did not get along with the rest of our family, for she made a love-match with a gentleman far below her in rank, and your great-great-grandfather would not speak to her. There had been some mention of her son—or was it the current Mr. Sinclair himself?—being lost at sea. It clearly must have been the elder Mr. Sinclair.” She looked out the window for a moment. “I suppose no one thought to follow the course of their lives, since there had always been a direct male heir until now.”
    “Poor Sir James! I think he must have been sorely disappointed to find he had not inherited,” Diana said. “But he comported himself well, I believe, considering the surprise.”
    Mrs. Carlyle gave her a sharp look. “He is to be commended on his behavior, I suppose, for I am sure he was quite dismayed—he has been living on the expectation for years.”
    “I do not see how he could have been,” Diana said. “He is a very good gamester and he has won wagers hand over fist for ages. They say he cannot lose.”
    “Is that so?” Her mother raised her brows. “And where did you hear this? In the stables?”
    “You must know that I could never have heard it from Aunt Matchett.” Diana grinned.
    “Hmph. However, I am sure you listened to all the gossip in London when you were there, for I have commanded McKinney
not
to tell you stable gossip.”
    “Yes, and the stableboys are more forthcoming than McKinney.”
    Mrs. Carlyle burst out laughing. “Odious girl!”
    “Well, Mama, I had nothing to do
but
listen to gossip in London, I assure you! It is the most tedious place in the world aside from the plays and the music.”
    Her mother shook her head, smiling wryly, clearly not about to argue the point, and continued her tatting. Diana gave her a sidewise look, frowning.
    “Mama, did you also know that Uncle Charles wished me to marry Mr. Sinclair?” she asked abruptly.
    Mrs. Carlyle sighed before looking up from her lacework. “I did know he considered you as close as a daughter, and had told me many times he wished you had been his son, so you could inherit the title. I

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