"How are you going to get down from here?" Lord Crensford asked, seating himself gingerly on the branch and feeling uncomfortably aware of empty air all about him. "That is what I would like to know. It is so easy to climb up, but not so easy to go down again. I suppose I will be expected to carry you."
She only laughed. "Don't you ever climb?" she asked. "I mean, do you never try to move beyond yourself? Don't you ever dream?"
"Only at night," he said firmly."When I am asleep."
"What do you want of life?" she asked. "Are you happy as you are? Are you content for your life to remain the same for ever and ever?"
"Of course it won't stay the same," he said. What the deuce was he doing sitting on a tree branch poised above the ground, which looked dauntingly far away, discussing the direction his life was taking with a young lady who did not know how to behave with proper decorum? "I'll get older. I'll probably marry and set up my nursery. I'll probably lose some of my hair."
She set her cheek on one knee and gazed at him. "I want to live," she said. "I want to be free to do anything that seems exciting. I want to be old enough so that people will not be constantly telling me that something is unseemly or dangerous. I want to go to London and attend all the splendid balls. I want to dance and dance. And I want six children.''
"I hope you plan to marry first," he said.
She laughed again, a bright infectious sound that was beginning to annoy Lord Crensford. She had no business sounding so happy when she had dragged him up this tree, knowing that he was responsible for her safety.
"Of course," she said.
"To the most handsome man in all England, I suppose," he said scornfully. "And don't tell me." He held up a hand and suddenly felt distinctly less safe. "He can be as poor as a church mouse as long as he is handsome."
"No," she said. "As long as I love him, and as long as he loves me, he doesn't have to be particularly handsome or particularly rich.Or a prince."
"Is it too much to hope that you have had enough of climbing for one day?" Lord Crensford asked.
"And are ready to let me help you down again?"
"You will only scold and scold if I go higher," she said.
And she was gone, descending the tree as quickly and as nimbly as she had ascended it. When Lord Crensford finally lowered himself cautiously to the bottom branch, it was to find her sitting there, swinging her legs.
''I have waited for you to lift me to the ground, you see," she said, "so that you can be quite sure that I will land safely." She crinkled her nose at him.
Lord Crensford jumped down and raised his arms for her. She was laughing down at him, the little pest, knowing full well that he was feeling considerably hotter and more out of breath than she. She set her hands on his shoulders, and he swung her down to the ground, his hands registering again soft femininity.
"You do look funny," she said, her hands still on his shoulders. "You have a twig in your hair." She reached up and pulled it free.
Yes, anyone who did not know differently might well mistake her for a normal pretty, pert, nicely behaved young lady. Her teeth were even and white. She had a pretty mouth. His hands were still at her waist. He felt suddenly uncomfortable.
"Did you see which way Diana went?" he asked with a frown. "She was with Peabody, wasn't she?"
Angela took a step backward and brushed the skirt of her dress with her hands. "Yes," she said.
The laughter was all gone from her face, Lord Crensford noticed as he offered his arm for the return walk to the pavilion. Was it too much to hope that she had suddenly realized the impropriety of her behavior for the past half hour? And he hoped Diana was safe. These would be the perfect surroundings for Jack to make his move on her.
* * *
It had been very much a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, Diana thought. Mr. Peabody had offered his arm as they left the house, and he had hovered close ever since. And while she might have got away from him if she had really wanted to, she had been afraid of what the alternative might be. For although she had spent a whole hour with the Marquess of Kenwood that morning without serious incident, she had sense enough to know that there was some difference between being alone with him in the music room and being alone with him in such picturesque surroundings and with such possibilities of losing themselves among the trees.
It was true that she had apologized to him for her words of two afternoons before, though she had somewhat despised herself for doing so. For even if she had been right and she had been as much to blame for what had happened as he had been, there had still been the incident with the chambermaid less than an hour afterward, and such an incident was distasteful, to say the least.
But it was also true that he had rejected her apology, or at least her assumption of some of the blame. He had quite openly told her that he had been guilty all the time, that he had deliberately maneuvered her into that embrace, that he had been prepared to make more of the kiss if opportunity had presented itself.
And he had made no secret of the fact that he desired her and that he would continue to pursue her. Why would he admit to such a thing openly if he were not quite confident of success? And why would he be so confident if she had not made him so? He understood her verywell,she might well give in to him if she were alone with him in the right surroundings. Like quiet, green, shady woods. Better to stay far away from him.
And so she accepted Mr. Peabody's suggestion that they take a stroll among the trees before tea. She knew she had made a mistake almost before they were out of sight of the blankets and the pavilion at the bank of the river.
"I envied Teddy Ingram from the day of his wedding to the day of his death," Mr. Peabody said after having made the observation that he had met Diana for the first time at her wedding.
"Oh?" She could think of nothing else to say.
