An Unexpected Love (2 page)

“You have very modern views on life, Lady Ravina,”he commented tersely.

“We will soon be nearing a new century,” Ravina replied, returning to his side. “Who knows what lies ahead of us in our amazing world. I do not wish to be held back from experiencing life just because I am a woman.”

The heavily built businessman frowned and then gave a muffled curse as he caught his finger on a thorn.

“Your parents, Lord and Lady Ashley, are away a great deal, I believe.”

Ravina sighed, gazing up at the stars in the sky.

“Yes, Papa is in the Foreign Office, as you know, and he and Mama have to travel abroad regularly.”

“Are they absent now?”

Ravina glanced at him curiously. There had been a strangely tense note in his voice.

“No, they are at home, sir.”

She was pleased to be able to say that. She adored her parents and it was a great sadness to her that she was alone such a great deal.

When they were all together, either in London or at their Dorset estate, they were such a happy and contented family. Her parents' frequent absences abroad always made her unhappy.

But she had too resilient a nature to be miserable for long. Her high spirits bubbled up now and she swung round to Robert Dunster.

Then she gasped!

For a second, she thought he was trying to put his arms round her!

He was standing extremely close and she could see the little red veins on his cheeks and a pulse beating frantically in his temple.

Even as she tried to step backwards, she realised there was a stone bench directly behind her stopping her from moving.

His hands reached out and grasped her shoulders.

“Careful, Lady Ravina, you might fall and hurt yourself.”

Ravina eased herself away and sat down on the bench. For some reason she was shaking. How silly. The heat must have made her dizzy. She was not the sort of girl who fainted at every awkward moment.

“I think I could drink that lemonade now, if you would be so kind.”

He gave a little bow, his jacket straining across his broad shoulders.

“Of course. My pleasure. I will be back as soon as Ican.”

He strode away and Ravina struggled to regain her composure, but she was still feeling strangely unnerved when a footfall on the path made her spin around.

But it was not Mr. Dunster returning, rather a young man she had known since she was a child. It was Viscount Giles de Lacey, heir to the Marquis of Harmon.

Tall and thin with prominent blue eyes and a thatch of brown hair that refused to lie flat, the young man seemed all arms and legs.

His evening clothes always looked as if they belonged to someone else. The sleeves appeared too short for his arms and he was showing far too much cuff to be fashionable.

Ravina sighed. She was quite sure that she knew what was going to happen next and she really was not in the mood for Giles tonight.

He was her exact age, born on the same day, and their parents were great friends. The two babies had lain next to each other in their cradles and Giles had been her faithful admirer since they were children, playing musical chairs at their joint birthday parties.

Once they had both celebrated their eighteenth birthdays, never a party, ball, race meeting or pheasant shoot had passed without him proposing marriage to her.

“Ravina, how lovely you look tonight. Like a youngGoddess.”

“Oh, Giles, don't be silly. Do go away.”

The young man sat down on the bench next to her, smiling happily like a large puppy dog.

“I saw you dancing with Robert Dunster. I say, Rav, you know you should be damned careful of that gentleman. He hasn't got a particularly good reputation, you know.”

Ravina snapped open her little ivory fan again and tried to wave some cooler air across her face. Giles was so annoying.

“Anyway, that's not what I came to say. Let's forget Dunster. There! I have already. Ravina, listen to me.”

He reached over and took her hands in his, stilling the fan in mid beat, crushing her rings against her fingers.

“You know how I feel about you. I adore and worship you, Ravina. And obviously the old money's no object and when Pater goes, I will have the title and the castle and the land. We could have such a good life together and, oh, Ravina, I do love you so much.
Please
, please marry me.”

Ravina raised her eyebrows in exasperation. Usually she could laugh at Giles and tease him about his devotion.

She was well versed in all the platitudes she had learnt from her mother when confronted by a proposal of marriage you did not solicit or welcome.

Ravina could usually make Giles admit that proposing to her had become a habit with him, that one day he would meet a girl who would make a perfect Marchioness, but it would
not
be Ravina.

She would agree to be Godmother to his first child and he would agree to be Godfather to hers. They always parted the best of friends.

But tonight was different. In some odd way, Mr. Dunster had left her feeling unsettled and irritable and the young man's words annoyed her.

“Giles,” she snapped crossly. “Don't be so silly. You know perfectly well I am never going to marry you. Why do you persist in asking me? I do wish you would stop. It is so very wearying.”

“But Ravina, sweetheart – ”

“Please do not call me that stupid name. It makes you sound ridiculous. You know I don't like you in that way. I will never like you in that way. Who would?”

She bit her lip as her childhood friend flinched as if she had pinched him. The colour drained from his face and he scowled.

Ravina was overcome with shame.

Giles was a dear boy and did not deserve this treatment. She knew her mother would be appalled at her behaviour if she ever found out.

“Giles, I am sorry – ” she began, but the gangling youth had stood up, surprisingly dignified for all his ungainliness.

“I quite accept that I am not good enough for you, Ravina,” he said stiffly. “And I can only apologise for intruding and spoiling the ball for you. I will take my leave and wish you a pleasant evening.”

With a brief nod he turned and walked away, stumbling slightly as he mounted the steps out of the rose garden.

Ravina jumped to her feet about to run after him when a sudden sound made her stop and spin round.

A stranger appeared from behind a tall trellis, heavy with huge white roses that scattered their petals like snow on the ground at his feet.

He was slim and very dark, immaculate in evening dress. His deep brown eyes were serious in a tanned face that to Ravina looked disapproving.

“Sir?” she said bravely. “A gentleman does not eavesdrop on a private conversation.”

The stranger bowed.

“Madam, a young lady should not be so hard-hearted when listening to a proposal of marriage.”

Ravina felt hot colour rush up into her cheeks.

She knew the stranger was right to condemn her behaviour, but he could not be aware of the relationship between her and Giles, so he was judging her on false assumptions.

“So you believe I should have simpered and smiled and told Giles de Lacey that he did me an incredible honour in thinking I was suitable to be his future wife?”

The dark haired man took another step forward and at that moment the moon sailed out from behind a cloud and bathed the rose garden in silver light. It struck a beam from the diamond clip in Ravina's hair, making it glitter like ice.

From the house, the band struck up a new tune, a polka this time.

Ravina glanced round, wondering crossly where Robert Dunster was with her lemonade. His arrival would at least mean this man could not continue to lecture her.

“I believe you could have let the young Viscount down more gently,” the tall stranger said. “He was offering you his heart and his life. Surely not an inconsiderable gift.”

Angrily, Ravina snapped her fan open. She knew he was right, but there was something about this man that brought her stubborn streak to the fore.

“Oh, I see, sir. Well, I hope that if you ever propose marriage, your future wife will be as thrilled by the offer of your name as you obviously think she should be.”

There was a moment's silence and as Ravina lifted her chin and stared into his dark unfathomable eyes, she thought she saw a flash of pain cross his face.

But then it was gone and, to her astonishment, he was reaching out and with one finger, touched the cream lace frill where it cascaded down over her upper arm.

“You seem to have a blood stain on your dress, madam. I would suggest you try to remove it as soon as possible. And take care, Lady Ravina. There are thorns that bite in every relationship.”

And with a severe bow, he turned and vanished into the dark gardens.

Ravina glanced down at the frill and bit her lip. The odious man was right. A small blood stain marked the lace.

She realised straight away that it must be from Mr. Dunster's finger. The thorn on the rose he had picked must have bitten deep and when he grasped her arm to stop her falling, he had marked her dress.

She shuddered.

She hated the sight of blood, especially on her clothes.

Picking up her full cream lace skirt, Ravina moved swiftly away from the rose garden. She did not want to stay and speak to Robert Dunster again.

The stranger had annoyed her so much.

But as she headed for the house, determined to find her friends and insist that they go home, she did wonder how he had known her name, because she knew she had never met him before. He was not the type of man you would easily forget.

Ravina was not in a good mood when she finally arrived at Ashley House, the London home in Knightsbridge belonging to her father, the Earl of Ashley.

Steven, the night-footman on duty, opened the front door as she stepped out of the Ross's coach, said her thank yous and goodnights and ran swiftly up the steps.

“My Lady,” he murmured as she flounced into the house, pulling off her long white gloves and throwing them carelessly on the beautiful inlaid hall table.

“Hello, Steven. Heavens, I am tired. I think I have danced too much. Are my parents still downstairs?”

“No, my Lady. They have retired for the evening. But Nanny Johnson is waiting for you in her room, I believe. She asked me to tell you that she would not be retiring until she knew you were home.”

“Goodness, why on earth does she do this?” Ravina said crossly. “She should have been in bed hours ago. Steven, can you arrange for me to have a cup of tea and some biscuits in my room, please? I am starving.”

The footman grinned as she dropped her evening cloak on the floor and headed for the stairs.

He picked up the heavy ruby silk garment with a sigh. Lady Ravina had ruled this house ever since she was born, but the staff knew that beneath her sometimes careless attitude lay a kind and affectionate person.

He wondered as he headed back below stairs if she had received any more proposals that evening. She had been portrayed in the newspapers as being one of the prettiest
debutantes
London had ever seen.

Bets were being laid between the staff as to who exactly would win her hand.

Unaware that her private life was the subject of such discussion between the servants, Ravina ran up the main staircase.

She passed her own bedroom and up another smaller flight to the suite of rooms that had once been the day nursery, the night nursery and the bedroom that was now the permanent home of Nanny Johnson.

Ravina knocked on the door and, without waiting for a reply, opened it and hurried inside.

“Ah, there you are. Back at last, miss.”

Nanny Johnson was old. How old Ravina did not know. She had been her nanny, her father's before that and had even been a nursemaid to Ravina's grandfather when he was a baby!

Small and wrinkled as an old apple, she always wore black with a white lace cap and, Ravina thought, mischievously, looked exactly like pictures of Queen Victoria, who was also very old.

Ravina realised she must never, never tell her because to Nanny the Royal family were the most important people in the world and being told she resembled the dear Queen would, in her eyes, be close to treason.

“Really, Nanny, you do not have to stay up every time I go out at night,” she said, trying to quell the irritation in her voice.

She looked up from the crochet work in her gnarled hands.

“I do not care to hear that tone from you, Lady Ravina. It is unpleasant. And take that frown off your face or else the wind will change and you will be left with it forever.”

Ravina sank to the floor next to the old lady's rocking chair and leant against her rough black skirt.

She felt her bad mood slipping away. Nanny could always soothe her when she was troubled.

Ravina could remember a time she had been plagued by nightmares when she was a small child – caused by the terrifying stories her nursemaid had told her.

Her parents had been abroad and Nanny Johnson had been the only person who could calm her fears and discover why she was so upset.

Nanny's fire had been lit earlier in the evening and the embers left in the grate sparked and flared.

“Nanny, Giles de Lacey proposed to me
again
tonight.”

Nanny clicked her tongue in annoyance, but her hand reached down to stroke the blonde curls at her knee.

“And you said no, I hope.”

“Of course. But why does he keep doing it? I like Giles, but – ”

“He is more a brother to you,” Nanny said wisely. “And you have grown up enough to see it, but young Lord de Lacey has not. He will one day though, don't you fret, my dear. Then he will set his eyes on some young girl, probably Lord Lyall's youngest – the red-headed one and marry her.”

“Well, I wish he would hurry up and do so,” Ravina yawned. “Oh, and I danced with Mr. Robert Dunster – twice.”

Nanny's fingers stilled on the white cotton she was twisting into intricate shapes.