The Heir's Proposal Read online

  His sympathy aroused a swift response. Addie swallowed; tears still blocked the back of her throat whenever she thought of her father. She took a hurried sip of champagne. “Yes, I do.”

  “Allow me to drive you and Miss Stavely to the races in my new motorcar.”

  “That’s kind of you, but it’s unnecessary.”

  “But I should like to. I won’t take no for an answer. Say at eleven? If you will furnish me with your address?”

  Addie disliked being railroaded. “I shall have to ask Miss Stavely. She may have other plans.”

  He glanced around the room. “Then I must ask her. But I don’t see her here. Has she gone home without you?”

  “No. She wouldn’t do that.” Addie’s gaze moved over the still packed room, the dance floor full of couples. There was no sign of Diana. The air had become almost unbearably smoky and hot. A soldier was trying to attract her attention by blowing her kisses. Uncomfortable, she was ready to leave. “Perhaps she’s in the bathroom.”

  “I shall be happy to take you home, Lady Adelaide…” Monty began as Bryce approached.

  “No need,” Bryce said smoothly. “Diana asked me to drive you home, Addie.”

  Addie checked the crowd again. No Diana. “Where has she gone?”

  “She didn’t say,” Bryce said, his expression and tone unhelpful.

  The way things stood between them; Addie didn’t want to go home with Bryce. But nor was she prepared to trust Monty. “What about Miss Allen?”

  “She has a lift with the people she came with.”

  Addie nodded. “I’ll get my coat.”

  “I’ll call for you both on Saturday at eleven.” Apparently, Monty would not take no for an answer. “I am confident you and Miss Stavely will enjoy the journey in my new motor,” he said. “Bryce will give me your address.”

  With a nod, he turned and moved away through the crowd.

  “My goodness,” Addie said. “He is persistent.”

  “You can say no.”

  “I rather like the idea of traveling in his car.”

  Bryce firmed his lips and said nothing.

  They climbed the stairs and went out into the cool, damp night.

  “Did Diana leave with Brian?”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “I saw you two talking. Neither of you looked happy.”

  “Didn’t we? You must have misinterpreted it.”

  She wondered if he’d asked Diana out and she’d refused him, then dismissed it as nonsense. Instead she said, “Where did you meet Miss Allen?”

  “She is one of Monty’s crowd.”

  “So, you aren’t so lonely at Langley.” She hoped her disappointment at him not introducing his friends to her earlier, didn’t show in her voice.

  He turned to look at her. The arc of light from a streetlight fell on his face, revealing his heavy frown. “I spend little time there, and I’m eager to get things moving along. Please come down to Kent. Help me deal with a few things which have cropped up.”

  “Such as?”

  He tucked her arm in his. “I’d rather discuss it with you at Langley.”

  She was very aware of him walking beside her. He used the same distinctive cologne, but she’d never been so aware of him before. His body touching hers as they walked, the strength of his arm. He wasn’t merely her childhood friend, but a self-confident man whose life no longer included her. She didn’t know what he thought anymore. Or what he really felt for her. “Very well. When shall I come?”

  “It will have to be within the next two weeks.”

  “Why?” Fear gripped Addie’s insides. She stifled her gasp. “You’re leaving England?”

  “I can’t say exactly where, but yes, I am.”

  “Oh.” Didn’t he know? Or wouldn’t he tell her? If it were a diplomatic appointment, he would tell her, wouldn’t he?

  “Can I rely on you to take over while I am gone?”

  “Of course. You mustn’t worry about Langley.”

  His hand squeezed hers where it rested on his arm. “I’ve left everything in the hands of the solicitor. You’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “You think that’s all I’m concerned about?”

  “No, I’m sure there’s a good deal more.”

  She pulled away from him with a gasp. “I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you.”

  His eyes searched her face. “Then I shall endeavor to return in one piece,” he said dryly.

  “I can’t talk to you,” she said crossly. “You have a chip on your shoulder.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “I have a chip?”

  “A log, more like.” Suddenly her sense of humor came to the fore and she laughed. “Let’s not be at odds. Especially with you going away. I would hate that.”

  “Me too,” he said soberly.

  He stopped beside his small gray Austen. “I can’t offer you a fancy motor like Monty’s.” He opened the door and turned to help her inside.

  “This will do nicely, thank you.” She sat and tucked her skirts around her legs.

  Bryce drove them through the shadowy streets. A searchlight lit up the skies. There was the ever-present fear of zeppelins, the lethal canvas covered airships filled with hot air which sailed over England to drop their bombs.

  He pulled into the curb outside the modest little place she and Diana called home and turned to her. “You will come?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow?”

  “I would appreciate it. I’m going down first thing in the morning.” He came around to open her door.

  “I’ll arrive on the noon train. Can you pick me up from the station?”

  He chuckled. “I can offer you a pleasant ride in the trap.”

  “A part of my anatomy freezes at that suggestion.”

  They walked up the path. The house was in darkness. “No one home?”

  “No. Good night, Bryce.”

  He made no move to kiss her goodnight but stood in the shadows as she inserted her key in the lock. She flicked on the light then turned to wave at him as he paused at the gate.

  Addie closed the door. Where was Diana?

  Her tiredness ebbed away as she made her way up the stairs to bed, her mind busy with everything that had happened that evening. The extraordinary club, the people, Monty, and Bryce. So much happening when life at Langley had been so predictable. But also, calm and comfortable. Wartime London had one constantly on edge. The future uncertain. What if they lost the war? What would happen to England then? It was not something to dwell on and she pushed it away. But sleep still eluded her when her thoughts turned to Bryce, and how her feelings for him rather than fading seemed to have deepened. Would he be in a safe place or in danger? Would he marry Miss Allen when he returned? She moaned and bashed her pillow. Addie was still awake when she heard Diana come in and climb the stairs. She snapped on her light.

  Addie’s door opened and Diana peeked in. “You’re still awake?”

  “Can’t sleep. Were you with Brian?” she asked, arranging the pillows behind her back.

  Diana sat on Addie’s bed. “No. I’m sorry I left you, but a fellow offered to buy me a drink somewhere quieter. Bryce promised to drive you home. I hope he did?”

  “Yes. Was that what you two were arguing about?”

  Diana raised her eyebrows. “We weren’t arguing. He’s old-fashioned and disapproving of me.”

  Addie fought the desire to defend Bryce. “Is he?”

  “Perhaps it’s just as well you didn’t marry him.”

  “I don’t think he is old-fashioned.”

  “Aha,” Diana said with a grin.

  Addie frowned. “Might Bryce know the man you left the club with?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. He doesn’t like him.”

  “Well, I think that was noble of him. To concern himself about your safety.”

  Diana gave a wry smile. “You’re probably right.”

  Why hadn’t Diana introduced her? It seemed odd to have slipped a
way without a word. But Addie couldn’t be angry, for that was the way Diana was. Men came and went with alarming alacrity. None seemed to touch Diana’s heart. Or if they did, she didn’t share that knowledge with Addie.

  “I promised to visit Langley tomorrow,” Addie said. “I’ll catch the train. Bryce requires my advice on a few things. Like to come?”

  Diana yawned. “No, I must go to work later. I’ll sleep in. Did you enjoy the evening? What did you think of the club?”

  “It was quite an eyeopener. Lively music.”

  “Bryce’s friend, Montague Standford, seems quite taken with you.”

  Addie suspected he might be. She was a little intrigued by him. “He’s interesting isn’t he.”

  “Yes. But I’d watch that one, Addie. What sort of work does he do?”

  “Works for the government.”

  “Mm. I wonder in what capacity?”

  “He has offered to drive us to Ascot in his new motorcar. It appears I accepted, although I can’t remember it.”

  “A new motorcar? What fun!”

  Diana yawned again and left the bed. “I’m off to the land of nod. Sleep well. And if I’m still asleep when you leave, give my best to Bryce.”

  “He is about to leave England,” Addie said her heart thumping.

  “You’re running out of time, Addie.”

  “For what?”

  “To tell him you love him.”

  “He is seeing Miss Julia Allen,” Addie said hotly. Would he welcome her sudden declaration of love thrown at him when he was about to leave the country? He might have made some promise to Julia. And even if he hadn’t, Addie imagined her about face would be most unsettling. He would go off more worried about her than ever.

  “Coward,” Diana said at the door. “You know Addie, for a smart woman, you can be awfully dumb sometimes.”

  “That he brought Julia sort of proves my point, doesn’t it?” Addie said to the closed door. Diana was too good at reading her emotions. Annoyed, Addie pulled the covers over her shoulders. And she was hopeless at reading Diana’s.

  Chapter Five

  Addie, boiling an egg on the kitchen stove, heard the paperboy calling from the street. She opened the front door and bought a paper.

  Seated at the table with the newspaper propped up against the cruet set, Addie nibbled a piece of toast when Diana walked in. She rose to put the kettle on. “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

  Diana rubbed an eye. “Couldn’t sleep in. Very annoying.” She sat down and picked up the paper. “Dear Lord!” Diana had turned the page. “Look at this! Those killed in action. Column after column of names. Peers and baronets are dying in great numbers. This report says over ninety sons of peers and eighty sons of baronets lie among the dead on the Western Front. Lord Rosebery lost his son. He speaks of the fountain of tears being nearly dry. Devastatingly sad.”

  Addie stood rigid, the milk jug clenched in her fingers, while Diana ran a finger down the columns. “So many families we know will have got telegrams.” She pointed to a name. “Oh, my Lord,” she said again. “Frederick Burton, Gordon Cameron, David Hamilton, Ronald James...” She gazed up, tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe it.”

  Addie’s eyes blurred, her throat tight. “Oh no. Not Fred, he was always so full of life.”

  “Yes. Always up for a lark. Remember when he put that spider down the back of Gordon’s neck at the Roseberry’s ball? Neither of them could wait to enlist.”

  “I must write to their parents. Send my condolences.” Addie filled the teapot and sat down, her legs leaden. “This awful war. How long will it go on?”

  “A long while yet if Asquith stays in power,” Diana said making an unladylike utterance. “He’s too meek.”

  Addie put down her toast, her appetite gone. “I’d best dress or I’ll miss the train.”

  Diana eyed the toast. “No butter?”

  “No. Couldn’t get any. And we might have to reuse the tea leaves.”

  Diana sank her head into her hands.

  “I hope to bring a few eggs and a bit of butter home from Langley,” Addie said as she headed for the door. “And if Cook can still make her wonderful pies, I’ll bring one of those for dinner.”

  Diana raised her head and gave her a weak smile. “Give my best to Bryce. He’s been a wonderful friend to both of us, Addie.”

  The fear that the war might claim him, too, followed Addie from the room. She climbed the stairs. As she pulled on her gray coat and arranged the beret over her hair, she wondered if she should ask Diana who she’d been with last night. Maybe it was irrelevant. He may very well have gone back to sea or was returning to the front. This war made a mockery of relationships. Diana was right to snatch a little romance where she could.

  Addie smoothed her gloves over her hands, her thoughts on the day ahead. She’d left clothes and some of her possessions at Langley, which she must take. She disliked someone like Miss Julia Allen going through them.

  When she disembarked from the train, Bryce, in a leather jacket and cap, stood waiting on the platform. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, savoring finding him in the familiar setting. For a moment she could pretend that things were just as they used to be, and her father was at home waiting to see her.

  Bryce took the suitcase from her. He eyed her black gloves. “Still in mourning?”

  She nodded. “For lost friends too.”

  His eyes were sad and there were new grooves each side of his mouth, which made him look older. “It’s a brutal war, Addie.” He gestured to the suitcase. “Are you staying overnight?”

  “No. I’ll return on the four o’clock.” They left the station platform and walked out the gate. “I plan to take a few things back with me. I should really take them all. I will as soon as I have somewhere to put them.”

  “I don’t see any reason for the rush,” Bryce said. “Do it if it looks like the estate will pass to Gordon Phillips-Smythe.”

  A chill passed down her spine. She shivered, swung around to face him. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s a possibility one must consider,” he said mildly. They approached the horse and trap.

  “Well, I refuse to.” She eyed the trap. “Where is your car?”

  “Petrol shortages.” He chuckled as he assisted her up onto the wooden seat. He heaved the case into the back. “I apologize in advance for forgetting to bring a cushion.”

  With a rueful smile she tried to make herself comfortable. “Monty doesn’t seem to have a problem with petrol. We are going to Ascot in his car.” She wondered if it was black market fuel.

  Bryce glanced at her and slapped the reins. “Walk on.” The old draft horse, Columbine, obediently plodded down the country lane. “The Standfords manufacture motorcars. Where they get their fuel is no concern of mine. But I warned you not to get too fond of Monty.”

  “I’m not. I merely find him interesting.” She wasn’t about to get into an argument about Monty. She’d decided not to quarrel with Bryce today. “He’s a businessman. What’s he doing working for the government?”

  Bryce slapped the reins. “His father runs the business. A British engineering firm. They are working with the government on something new.”

  “Something secret?”

  “I haven’t asked.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Is Monty a spy?”

  Bryce leveled a look at her. “Dangerous to make accusations like that these days.”

  “Only to you. I’m not a fool.”

  “No, you’re not.” He guided the horse through the tall gates and the horse trotted down the avenue.

  Addie glanced about despairing at the overgrown garden beds and the gravel driveway littered with fallen leaves and broken branches from the aged oaks.

  “We’ve lost many of the garden staff. Jeff, the undergardener, has volunteered,” Bryce said. “Digging ditches for the army now. And only two are left in the kitchen, Mrs. Miller and Maisy, the scullery maid. She helps in the kitch
en. Not much to do, though with no family to cook for except me and my occasional guests.

  “Jenny and Mavis work in a munitions factory now,” Bryce added.

  “I can’t blame them,” Addie said wondering who his guests might be. Julia Allen? Annoyed with herself, she tamped down an uncomfortable stab of jealousy. “The wages are better than we can offer them.”

  As soon as they entered the house, Addie went downstairs to the kitchen with Bryce following. Mrs. Miller was chopping parsley. The room, warmed by the stove was scented with familiar aromas, stirring bittersweet memories.

  “As soon as I knew you were coming, Lady Adelaide,” Mrs. Miller said, “I put on a batch of your favorite scones.” Worry creased her brow. “I had to skimp on some ingredients, I hope they pass muster.”

  “I’m sure they will be delicious.” Addie smiled warmly. The pleasure at seeing familiar faces and being in her home failed to banish the ache in her heart. “I confess to being peckish.”

  Mrs. Miller nodded with a pleased smile. “You’ll be having your lunch first, I expect.”

  “We will, thank you Mrs. Miller,” Bryce said. “We’ll eat informally in the south parlor.” He steered Addie out of the room.

  Addie sat down on the sofa in front of the windows overlooking the garden. One could imagine it was just the same, if one avoided looking at the rangy hedges in need of pruning, plus the funnel of smoke rising from the activity in the south paddock.

  “The army have arrived. They use the land for training,” Bryce explained.

  “They don’t want the house?”