‘No, I think I shall not,’ Mariah agreed. ‘But perhaps I should seek someone rather different this time. I was utterly spoiled in my first marriage, but I am older and wiser now. It is time for me to grow up, to move on.’
‘I do not think you could do better than Lord Lanchester himself,’ Sylvia said. ‘He is handsome, respected and has no need of your fortune—besides, I think he likes you, my love.’
‘Yes, I think he likes me,’ Mariah agreed and sighed. She might never find such devotion as she had from Winston again, but she was so tired of being a widow. ‘However, Lord Lanchester shows no sign of making me an offer. I did think at one time—but he did not speak and I think I lost my chance. Something must have made him decide that I was not the wife he wanted, though he is still concerned for my safety and well-being.’
‘Perhaps the right moment has not yet presented itself,’ Sylvia suggested. ‘Be patient, Mariah. He may speak when he is ready.’
‘I fear patience is not my best virtue.’ Mariah laughed at herself, for she knew her own faults. ‘Once I make up my mind to something, I must act—and I have decided that I need a husband, or the promise of one, before we return to England.’
‘Think carefully, my love,’ her friend advised. ‘If you marry in haste, you may regret it.’
‘I have been a widow for nearly two years,’ Mariah said. ‘I have thought of contenting myself with affairs, but I think it would suit me better to be married.’
Seeing she had shocked her friend, Mariah laughed again and took her arm.
‘No, really, dearest, it would not be so very terrible, would it?’
‘Well … if one were discreet.’ Sylvia shook her head. ‘You have been married … I know you are teasing me—but Hubert would be most shocked if he heard you. You might lose all chance of a decent marriage, my dear.’
‘Yes, I dare say,’ Mariah said, slightly impatient, for she thought her friend’s husband a little pompous at times. ‘But I am so tired of sleeping alone… . I want to be courted for myself, loved.’
What would Sylvia think if she knew that her marriage had remained unconsummated? That she was, in fact, still a virgin? It was something she could never tell anyone, even her best friends.
A little later that evening Mariah stood by the open windows of the salon looking out at the night. The sky was velvet dark with only a faint light from the moon, which was half-hidden by clouds, but the air was much cooler after the heat of the day. She was tempted to walk in the gardens, but if she did, someone was sure to follow—and she could not be sure the right man would join her.
‘Mariah, my dear, I want you to meet some friends of Hubert’s,’ Sylvia said, causing her to turn round and look at the newcomers. With a little shock she recognised the man who had saved her from a fall earlier that day. ‘This is Sir Harold Jenkins, Lady Jenkins—and their nephew, Lieutenant Grainger.’
‘What a surprise to see you again, Lieutenant,’ Mariah said, extending her hand with a smile. ‘Good evening, Sir Harold, Lady Jenkins, I am pleased to meet you.’
‘Good evening, Lady Fanshawe,’ Lieutenant Grainger replied and kissed her hand, looking into her eyes with such warmth a moment later that Mariah was surprised. ‘I am so pleased to meet you again.’
‘You met earlier? You did not tell us,’ Lady Jenkins said archly, throwing her nephew a fond look.
‘I met Lady Fanshawe walking towards the spot where a rock fall had taken place and was able to warn her that it was dangerous to go farther in that direction. I have since spoken to the authorities and they assured me a fence would be put in place immediately.’
‘Ah, that is just like you, Peter,’ Lady Jenkins said and looked directly at Mariah. ‘My nephew is such a correct young man, Lady Fanshawe. Many would simply ignore something of that nature—but Peter always thinks of others.’
‘You are too partial, Aunt.’ Peter Grainger looked slightly embarrassed. ‘You must forgive her, Lady Fanshawe. I assure you that I did only what anyone would have done in the circumstances.’
‘I am sure that many would not,’ Mariah said. ‘Tell me, sir—how do you like Lake Como? Do you prefer it to Lake Garda?’
‘I think all the lakes have their merits—but I believe the situation of Como makes it most agreeable to those who prefer a little more tranquillity. There are more visitors—or it seems there are more at Garda.’
‘Yes, that was my feeling also,’ Mariah said, warming to him. He seemed a sensible man. She had no doubt that his aunt was aware of her fortune, but Lieutenant Grainger did not seem overly anxious to impress her. Indeed, he had taken himself off at once after she’d revealed her status to him earlier that day and she was inclined to think he was in no particular need of her fortune. ‘I think we have time for a turn in the garden before dinner, sir. Would you care to oblige me?’
He looked a little startled, as if her boldness had surprised him, but immediately offered his arm. ‘A little air on the terrace would be perfect. I believe Count Paolo’s gardens are reputed to be very fine?’
‘Yes, indeed they are. We are fortunate that he allows us to stay here.’
Andrew watched with narrowed eyes as the pair disappeared out through the open doors onto the terrace. They stood talking in full view of the room so there was nothing particularly clandestine or intimate about their behaviour, but he found the sight oddly disturbing. Mariah had promised to take his advice in the matter of a husband; he did not think that Grainger was wholly suitable, but, as yet, he had not managed to think of anyone he could recommend to her wholeheartedly.
Watching her, he was aware of how lovely she was, the perfection of her figure and the enchanting way she held her head to one side when she teased or laughed at one. She was, he thought, a beautiful, sensual woman and his pulses quickened at the sight of her looking up at her companion. Something must be done. She was too vulnerable to unscrupulous rogues, though he had no real reason to think of Grainger as a rogue.
‘Are you well acquainted with Lieutenant Grainger?’ his host asked. ‘Lady Fanshawe seems on good terms with him. She looks happier than she has for a while.’
‘I was not aware that she knew him,’ Andrew said. ‘I had not seen him for years, though I remember that his regiment joined ours in Spain. He was a new recruit then …’ He turned to look at Lord Hubert. ‘Do you know him at all?’
‘We have met once or twice. I am not well acquainted with him.’
‘I am in similar case myself, though we had mutual friends in Spain.’
‘I know his aunt and uncle,’ Lord Hubert continued. ‘Very good sort of people. Sylvia likes them—and I usually like my wife’s friends. I dare say we shall see quite a bit of them while we are here. If Grainger and Mariah were to take to one another, it would be the very thing.’
Andrew scarcely heard him. He had found the younger man pleasant enough company earlier in the day, but now his hackles rose as he went out of the open doors and heard Mariah laugh. It seemed an age since he’d heard her laugh in just that way—and, looking at her standing there in the moonlight with the young lieutenant, he was struck once more by her beauty. She was a fine, spirited woman, perhaps a little reckless at times. Her restless nature would lead her astray without a strong hand to guide her.
Mariah became aware of Andrew as he reached them. She turned her head, a smile on her lips. ‘Andrew, how are you? Lieutenant Grainger was telling me about a visit that the Regent paid to his regiment, when they were stationed in Brighton.’
‘Indeed?’ Andrew looked down his patrician nose. ‘Prinny enjoys playing soldiers. I dare say you made him an honorary colonel or something of the kind, did you not?’
Lieutenant Grainger stared at him doubtfully.