Lady Scandal by Shannon Donnelly

Author:Shannon Donnelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: donnelly, paris, regency england, regency, napoleonic wars, top pick
Publisher: Shannon Donnelly
Published: 2011-05-31T01:41:30.810750+00:00

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Birdsong woke Diana, light, soaring, bursting with life. She opened her eyes and lay in the back of the cart, her knees bent to fit. Sleep still held her arms and legs. But the world beckoned.

The air smelled of spring—flowers opening to scent the dawn and new grass pushing up through the warming ground. Slowly she stretched. Why did everyone shut themselves up under roofs rather than wake this way every day?

Sitting up, she poked her head from the back of the cart.

And she stared, her jaw slackening.

Not ten paces from the cart, beside the charred remains of the fire, her aunt lay entwined with Mr. Marsett. Her aunt's skirt had ridden up, and her stockings had fallen to reveal a bare calf. Mr. Marsett's shirt lay open, and her aunt's hand rested lightly on his naked chest. A blanket twisted about their middles, hiding...well, it did not hide enough, Diana decided.

Ducking back into the cart, she lay down again. How charming they looked. She frowned. How ghastly they had been to each other last night.

Her parents fenced in just such a way—always seeking to wound the other with hard words. Not an enjoyable thing to live around and she could not imagine it would be very nice to be a participant in such verbal battles.

Thankfully, her parents generally left their children out of such matters. They certainly had left her out. An older sister—who was being presented to Society this year—and a younger brother, allowed her to mostly go unnoticed. She would never have been permitted to go to France, however, if either of her parents had thought she would end up sleeping in donkey carts and running away from soldiers. She had Henrietta's presentation to thank for that.

"Every gentleman who pays a call takes one look at you and cannot even see your sister!" her mother had complained.

Her father, of course, had not wanted her to go. He had thought it dangerous. He had protested that he would miss her too much. But her mother had won the disagreement, as she did most quarrels. Father would certainly never let Mama forget it that circumstances had proven him right.

Diana peeked out again at her aunt and Mr. Marsett. They had not moved. She rather liked how his head angled towards hers and how his arm lay around her aunt. So protective. Possessive almost. But did he really care for her?

She lay back again. She did not understand them. Love ought to soften the heart. It ought to be kind. And gentle.

An image of the French officer who had stopped their coach came to her. There had been nothing gentle about that harsh, handsome face. Nor anything kind in his words and manner. Still, he had stopped his men from rifling through their things. And he had allowed them to leave. Kind acts certainly. And hidden under brusque words and a hard expression.

Was there also something hidden that she did not see between her aunt and Mr. Marsett?

She let out a sigh.

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