Rags-to-Riches Bride. Mary Nichols

maid was obviously not used to such strange behaviour. Guests sleeping in the middle of the day and turning their noses up at a stay at Harecroft House was probably unheard of!

      After the maid had gone, Diana took off her dress and sank on to the bed. She was almost too tired to sleep and there was so much going round and round in her head that it felt woolly. What was she doing here? Had she become so weak willed that she could not say no and mean it? It was Mr Richard Harecroft’s doing. He had as good as abducted her, taking the place of Stephen, so he said. As for their father, why did he favour one over the other? Was Richard really a black sheep? What had he done? What had she done to merit the attention she was receiving?

      There was a knock at the door and a maid entered with a tray of food which she put on the table near the window. ‘Do you need anything else, miss?’

      ‘No, thank you.’

      ‘The mistress says to sleep as long as you like. Mr Hare-croft and Mr Stephen will not be back before three.’

      It was a clear instruction to stay out of the way until the rest of the family arrived home and Diana managed a brief smile before sitting at the table to eat the scrambled eggs and bacon, the bread and butter that had been provided along with a pot of coffee. She had not had such a luxurious breakfast for years. It made her realise how much her life had changed since her mother died. And it was all here for her, if she accepted Stephen.

      The food eaten, or as much of it as she could manage, she returned to the bed and flung herself across it. To her own surprise, she slept.

      Diana did not wake until a maid brought hot water and told her Mr Harecroft and Mr Stephen had returned home and it was time to dress for dinner, which would be taken at five o’clock, in deference to the dowager who hated eating late in the evening. Diana sprang up in dismay; she had asked to be woken at noon, fully intending to return to St Thomas’s hospital to see her father and then go home without troubling the Harecroft family again. She was overset with guilt; poor Papa would think she had deserted him.

      It took only a few minutes to wash, put on her dress again and scrape her hair back, then she ventured downstairs, carrying her cape and bonnet. She stopped outside the drawing-room door, knowing she must express her gratitude before leaving and trying to frame the words that would convey her appreciation without bowing and scraping. After all, she had her pride, it was only ill fortune that made it necessary for her to work.

      ‘You could have gone yourself.’ It was Richard’s voice coming from beyond the door. ‘Papa would not have prevented you.’

      ‘Unlike you, I choose to work. I cannot take time off when the fancy takes me.’ This was Stephen.

      ‘Fancy, eh? Is that what she is?’

      ‘No. I am seriously inclined to marry her.’

      ‘You cannot mean it.’

      ‘Why not? I have much to offer…’

      ‘Oh, indeed you have, brother. Have you told her exactly what it is you are offering her? Apart from your name and a stake in the Harecroft business, I mean.’

      ‘Is that not enough?’

      ‘It might be for some. I do not know the lady well enough to judge, but if you want my advice—’

      ‘I do not. Just because you helped me out of a hole does not give you the right to tell me what to do.’

      ‘Of course not. I leave that to Papa. Was it his idea?’

      ‘Not at all. I am perfectly capable of making up my own mind. And it has nothing to do with you.’

      ‘I spoke with no other motive than brotherly affection, but if you disdain my advice…’

      ‘You would not take it upon yourself…’

      ‘Me? Good Lord, no! I will say nothing, I promise you, but you have a moral obligation to do so.’

      ‘You are a fine one to talk of moral obligation, Richard.’

      Diana had no doubt they were talking about her, though she was puzzled, she could not stay there eavesdropping. She crept halfway back up the stairs and then turned and came down again, clattering her shoes on the marble of the floor, before entering the room.

      They both turned towards her. ‘Good evening, gentlemen.’ She took a certain pride in knowing her voice was light and even.

      ‘Hallo, Diana,’ Stephen said. It was only the second time he had used her Christian name, no doubt to impress his brother. ‘Are you rested now?’

      ‘Yes, thank you.’

      ‘I was sorry to hear about your papa. I hope he is being looked after.’

      ‘Yes. I must go and see how he is.’

      ‘Of course. After dinner, I will take you.’

      ‘I had not planned to stay here that long. And there really is no need to inconvenience yourself or your family.’

      ‘It is no inconvenience. Work is done for the day and we are dining early on account of Great-Grandmama. I will have the tilbury brought round at six-thirty.’

      ‘Miss Bywater is about to say she can easily walk,’ Richard said, giving her a sardonic smile that annoyed her. ‘It is her panacea for everything. You will have to persuade her that you desire her company above everything.’

      Stephen glared at his brother. Richard turned away as a bell sounded somewhere in the house. ‘The dinner bell. I am going to fetch Great-Grandmama down.’

      He left the room and Diana turned to go too, only to find her way blocked by Mr John Harecroft and his wife, who had just entered. ‘There you are, Miss Bywater,’ he said, cheerfully. ‘How is your father today?’

      ‘When I left him this morning, he had rallied, but I am anxious to return to see how he is.’

      ‘I am sure you are. Stephen will take you after dinner. Ah, here is Richard and my grandmother. We can go in now.’

      Diana had caught a glimpse of Richard and the old lady through the open door. He had carried her down the stairs as if she were a child and was setting her on her feet, ready to escort her into the dining room. Mr and Mrs Harecroft followed and Diana found herself walking beside Stephen.

      Still in the clothes she had been wearing the day before and in which she had spent the long worrying night, she felt dishevelled and untidy and could not bring herself to take part in the conversation with any animation. Mr Harecroft, busy talking about something that had happened in the shop that morning, did not seem to notice or if he did, hid it very well. Stephen was not so good at hiding the fact that he would rather have introduced her to the household in different circumstances when she was suitably attired. Richard was silent except for such comments as politeness demanded. The air was charged with tension and Diana was glad when the meal came to an end and Stephen told her the tilbury was at the door.

      ‘We missed you at work today,’ he said as they set off.

      ‘Yes, I am sorry about that. I will endeavour to make up for lost time when I come back. If I come back.’

      ‘Whatever do you mean? Of course you will come back.’

      ‘I may have to spend more time with my father. I am told he will need nursing.’

      ‘Then a nurse will be found for him.’

      ‘Mr Harecroft, you cannot think my wages will stretch to a nurse?’

      ‘No, of course not. It will be my privilege to provide the necessary.’

      ‘I cannot expect you to do that. I would never be able to repay you.’

      ‘Nonsense! Have you so soon forgotten that I asked you to marry me? When that comes about, your father’s well-being will be one of my chief concerns. After your own happiness, that is.’

      ‘Mr Harecroft, I