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Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Chapter One

"Who can those gentlemen be?" Miss Dinah Driffield asked her younger sister. Her curiosity piqued, she studied the two new arrivals to the well-appointed, elegant ballroom of the Dragon Hotel.

"Which gentlemen?" Miss Adelaide echoed, gazing about the overheated, busy chamber. More than five and seventy of the most fashionable visitors to Upper and Lower Harrowgate were crowded into the ballroom. The day had been hot and airless, and it had waned into evening with little diminution of the heat.

"The gentlemen that the host is scurrying to welcome." Miss Driffield was discreet about her inquisitive stare. She had thought she knew every resident in the town, by sight at least, and had a familiarity with the identities of the regular summer visitors. She had been attending at the Dragon's public balls for three years, and she had spent every summer of the past ten years in Low Harrowgate. But she had never seen these young men. "Good gracious! They are very fine but they look as out of place as two South Downs among a flock of Swaledales."

Her sister--her junior by a year--was a little taller, a little more fair of colouring, and rather more conventionally pretty than Dinah. She turned away and flicked open her fan. "Whoever they are I shall not stare. And you cannot mean to compare them to sheep! Don't be common," Adelaide said from behind the painted silk.

"The wool of sheep indirectly provided the very lovely gown you wear. It is surely not vulgar to speak with respect of the author of our prosperity!" A twinkle lit Dinah's sherry brown eyes. "Those sheep are very handsome and so too are these gentlemen. You may turn again to look without detection. Everyone in the room is staring at them."

Indeed a brief, breathless hush had enveloped the busy assemblage. The air, heavy with perfumes and pomades, was very still though the sash windows were open to admit whatever breeze might arise. A vivid sunset could be glimpsed by anyone inattentive to the shifting currents of the ballroom. It was ignored.

"Oh, my!" Adelaide said, surveying the two gentlemen.

The newcomers were attending with every appearance of interest to the functionary of the hotel who acted as host to the Monday balls. They were incidentally standing directly below a chandelier which illuminated their every feature with precision.

"Exactly my thoughts," Dinah retorted, plying her daintily painted fan with vigour against the heat.

The gentlemen were dressed in the first stare of fashion with dark tailcoats, figure-molding pantaloons extending to silk stockings at the ankle, and black pumps. While the taller gentleman had elected to don simple linen and a white shagreen waistcoat, the other man, though he tended to plumpness, had chosen a shirt with a deep frill and a dazzling waistcoat patterned in blue and green.

The activity in the chamber resumed with a sighing of silk skirts and a shuffle of soft dancing shoes, though the orchestra had not yet struck up the next dance. Dinah took a deep, steadying breath as she gazed still across the room. She was not an impressionable miss and she prided herself on her level head and commonsense. Despite both she felt that in the taller gentleman she was beholding one of the most beautiful young men she had ever seen.

He was above medium height and slender and moved with fluid grace as he bent slightly to speak with the very short host. His auburn hair curled luxuriantly and his clear hazel eyes were wide set. His firm mouth had a willful but humorous curve. A strong jaw and an uncompromising nose saved his face from effeminacy but rendered it no less beautiful.

He laughed unaffectedly at a comment made by his companion, and gazed about the chamber with a lively curiosity.

Dinah was brought back to earth as her sister discreetly elbowed her in the ribs.

"Stop staring. Who do you suppose they are?" Adelaide said.

"I cannot imagine. But my first thought was accurate. They look out of place."

"They are very welcome," said the young lady who had approached the Driffield sisters unnoticed. "There are few enough young gentlemen here."

Miss Driffield and Miss Adelaide greeted Miss Juliana Hesler with pleasure and the ease of long acquaintance. She had been since infancy their particular friend, and was enjoying a summer sojourn at Harrowgate in the company of her parents.

"I saw you arrive with Dr. and Mrs. Hesler, just before the gentlemen. Did you meet them?" Dinah asked with a semblance of disinterest.

"The host hurried us out of the way and did not introduce us," Miss Hesler replied with a moue of displeasure.

"Ah well, there is always Mr. Humberstone," Adelaide said, seeing that worthy approach.

"But he has eyes only for Dinah," Juliana retorted, with a teasing chuckle.

Dinah, watching her tiresome partner for the next dance shamble up, said, "Hush you both." The gleam in her brown eyes belied her severe words.

The musicians scraped the opening bars of the country dance as Bernard Humberstone bowed before her. She could not but note that his brown satin knee-breeches, brown velvet coat, ruby cravat pin and buckled dancing pumps were cast in the shade by the newcomer's simple, elegant evening dress. Then she set thoughts of the strangers firmly aside, and smiled kindly at Mr. Humberstone as he led her into the set forming.

Humberstone was no more than an adequate dancer, and Dinah had always to be on her guard against accident while acting as his partner. She applied herself to the dance with attention, striving by her actions to aid Humberstone's steps. They never spoke when they danced; Mr. Humberstone could not manage with both activities at the one time.

Only minutes later, the breath was punched from Dinah by the impact of her body's contact with that of an onlooker at the edge of the dancing floor. She gasped, "Great heavens sir, I do beg your pardon." She cast a look up at the gentleman with whom she had collided. With dismay she beheld the glorious young man she had previously beheld.

"Not at all, ma'am. I think your, er, flight, was not of your doing."

His voice was as charming as his appearance. Elegantly baritone, unhurried and quite without northern accent, Dinah thought it soothed the ear.

Dinah's partner, whose overly enthusiastic swing had sent her reeling, hurried up. "Miss Driffield, my humblest apologies...you are so very light on your feet...my feelings carried me away. We might have been flying--are you hurt?--if my enthusiasm should have injured..."

"Mr. Humberstone, I am fine, really," she said. Dinah turned her attention from her erstwhile partner back to the gentleman into whom she had cannoned. "We owe this gentleman our apologies I think!" She stepped out of the country dance with a curtsey and a smile of apology to her dancing neighbours, and another couple hurriedly took their place. She withdrew to the edge of the dancing floor with Humberstone at her side.

Mr. Humberstone had transferred his explanations to the unknown gentleman. "Miss Driffield is so exquisite a dancer, sir. I was carried into ecstasies and mistook my own strength. It is no thanks to me she is uninjured...and you, sir, are you at all hurt? Humberstone's my name, Bernard Humberstone, and I meant to offer no insult. I think I do not know you...you are a newcomer to Harrowgate, and your introduction to our little assemblies is become violent. I do apologize..."

The stranger raised a slim, graceful hand to stem the flood of Mr. Humberstone's eloquence. "Sir, be assured I have suffered no injury, and I take no offense. This is very fine dancing indeed, and such enthusiasm can only be commended. But perhaps Miss--ah Driffield--would be glad of a glass of negus to calm her nerves. Do you procure it, and I shall walk with her a little to help her regain her equanimity."

Humberstone, relieved of responsibility, hurried off smiling. He was still uttering thanks and assurances as he edged through the crowd.

The gentleman offered Dinah his arm.

After a moment's hesitation she laid her gloved hand upon it. "My nerves and my equanimity have suffered no imbalance, sir," she said, with a laugh and a warm and genuine smile.

"I was certain of it, but Humberstone badly needed activity and I could not do less than provide it him."

"But we have no acquaintance sir."

"Of course you are correct, but I think the host will rectify that omission," he nodded in the direction of the small, busy man. "He will introduce me, and the proprieties will be appeased."

Dinah, brimming with amusement, and wishing her curiosity regarding the gentleman satisfied, acquiesced without delay.

A slight gesture from the gentleman brought the Dragon's ballroom host scurrying over.

"An accident has thrown us together, sir, and we have no introduction. Can you repair this difficulty?" the young man asked.

Dinah had known the host several years, and wondered now at his obsequiousness as he bowed deeply.

"Indeed, I saw that Mr. Humberstone's enthusiasm had occasioned an accident...it is not the first time," he said. "I am so very sorry you have suffered at his hands. Miss Driffield may I present the Viscount Holly? He is come from London with Mrs. Matherton's grandnephew. My lord, may I present Miss Driffield?"

The viscount's bow was elegant in the extreme, his smile was friendly, and his bright gaze held nothing but genuine pleasure at the introduction.

Dinah could not return his gratification. She ensured that her curtsey was beyond reproach even as she concealed her disappointment. He was a nobleman, a titled gentleman. They accounted for all and for nothing in her world. Many people of the moneyed middle class scrambled for acquaintance with the aristocracy, boasted of the smallest conversance. Her family did not. They were content in their own sphere, disinterested in rank or privilege, and Dinah was unwilling to be impressed by the viscount's title. He was by his very heritage beyond her sphere of interest.

As she rose from her curtsey she noticed with vexation and something of relief that the draped flounce of her peach-coloured mousselaine de soie gown was torn. And this on its first wearing! An unfortunate circumstance but it did give her opportunity to leave Lord Holly's company.

The host, with his acute eye, had noted the tear. "Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Driffield to her mother, my lord? I believe she requires some maintenance."

The viscount offered his arm again, with every appearance of alacrity.

Dinah was constrained, at the risk of rudeness, to accept it. "My mother and my grandmama are opposite the orchestra, my lord, but I need not trouble you so far. My sister is here--in the blue lutestring--she will aid me." Adelaide stood nearby and Dinah indicated her with a gesture of her fan.

"It would be my pleasure to escort you wherever you wish, Miss Driffield. I could desire that your sister was across the chamber as well." He delivered the statement with every appearance of sincerity.

Dinah regarded him with suspicion. She tilted her head in consideration and a mahogany curl slid down her pearl-pale neck as she surveyed the viscount thoughtfully.

"Truly!" he said with an appealing laugh. "I would happily converse with you longer."

"That cannot be done for I must mend this hem, or I shall catapult myself into some other gentleman's arms...of my own volition this time."

"I understand, and I would not have you in another gentleman's arms," he said as he delivered her to her sister.

The viscount's remark brought quick colour to Dinah's cheeks, but she could make no sense of it. He was flirting with her, as he might with a peeress in a London ballroom.

Adelaide apparently overheard the last of his remark and turned, staring at them both with wide brown eyes.

Dinah covered her confusion with an introduction. "Viscount Holly, Adelaide. My lord, my sister Miss Adelaide Driffield. Thank you my lord, for your assistance." She dismissed him summarily.

He could only smile ruefully before turning away.

"Dinah, you were rude," Adelaide hissed. "And of what were you speaking? Whose impropriety was it to speak of you in a gentleman's arms?"

Dinah seized her sister's gloved elbow. "Mine...no, his," she said with clenched teeth and some confusion. "I believe he was flirting, in an odious, aristocratic way."

Juliana joined them as they made their way around the dancing floor and they all withdrew to the chamber set aside for such emergencies. A young maid there with a ready needle and thread repaired Dinah's flounce, as her friend and her sister plied her with questions.

"Why is he here?" Juliana asked. "Who is his friend?"

"Why was he speaking of you being in a gentleman's arms?" Adelaide asked again. "It sounded as though he expected you should be in his arms only!" She blushed at the words.

"Lower your voices," Dinah directed. The withdrawing room was crowded and high-pitched conversation abounded. "I have no knowledge of the viscount, his friend, or his business. Or his arms--excepting that they were strong."

Juliana and Adelaide exchanged a knowing glance.

Dinah coloured fierily and covered her confusion by giving the maid who attended her a smile, warm thanks and an appropriate pourboire from the tiny reticule that hung on her wrist. She was unwilling to discuss the interlude further. "Do let's return to the ballroom," she said, and led the way.

Another set had already formed, this time for the quadrille. Adelaide made her way to her mother but Dinah and Juliana remained near a large potted palm to converse. The London gentlemen were taking part in the dance with every appearance of enjoyment.

"You cannot avoid it. Tell me all," Juliana demanded before snapping open her fan and retiring behind it. "They are remarkably fine gentlemen. So the taller is the Viscount Holly. Who is his companion?"

Dinah, recalled from her fixed contemplation of the refreshment table carefully laid out in the supper alcove, looked in the direction of her friend's surreptitious gaze. Her usually immovable heart fluttered annoyingly. Lord Holly was really very appealing. She redirected her attention for she could not, would not cultivate the attraction.

"Old Mrs. Matherton's grand-nephew. I know nothing more. Why came they here to Harrowgate, do you think? They are three hundred miles north of Almack's and a world away from their precious ton," she said.

"They must be come direct from London," Juliana breathed, flicking another glance over her fan at Mr. Matherton's lavish tailoring.

The quadrille came to its graceful conclusion.

Dinah directed her gaze around the gilt-trimmed chamber, carefully avoiding Lord Holly and Mr. Matherton. "Mama is beckoning me, Juliana. I must go. Oh, great heavens, now the host is taking the gentlemen over to Mama and Grandmama."

"Then I shall come with you," her friend said with a quick smile.

They arrived before the two Mrs. Driffields at the same moment as the ballroom host and his elegant companions.

As the introductions were conducted, Dinah was dismayed to see Juliana's grateful receipt of the acquaintance. She remembered that Juliana's mother was wont to be impressed by social standing and it appeared that Juliana had taken her example. She could see that her own practical, acute mother and her sometimes acerbic grandmother were unmoved by the viscount's rank and Matherton's vividly stylish waistcoat. Not for the first time did Dinah thank heavens that her parents had no social aspirations, being content with their own friends of their own community.

The viscount was speaking to her and she had perforce to attend.

"Will you dance the next set with me, Miss Driffield?"

She saw that Mr. Matherton was similarly engaging her friend for the country dance forming. She acquiesced quietly, and as the dancers assembled she took her place. Conversation was snatched in the movement of the dance, but the viscount, unlike Mr. Humberstone, took every opportunity to converse.

After responding to several of his innocuous comments, Dinah decided to satisfy her own curiosity. "How came you to Harrowgate, my lord?"

"We are on our way to Peebles, Miss Driffield, for the glorious 12th--the grouse shooting." The viscount nodded his auburn head at his friend going down the line. "My friend Matherton determined he should break his journey here and visit his great aunt."

'In need of funds?' Dinah wondered with an uncharacteristic lack of charity as they were separated by the pattern of the dance.

"As I had never seen this town--these towns should I say?--I was interested in his plan to spend a few days, and indeed it is a pleasant place."

"We think so."

"You are resident here?"

"No, but my grandmama, whom you just met, resides here in Robin Hood Lane. We stay with her frequently in the summer; our home is in Leeds," she added. Her tone challenged him to comment on her home's location.

The viscount appeared unconscious of it. "Leeds. Now there is another town of which I have not the acquaintance. It is my error in always staying on the Great North Road for my journeys into Scotland."

"Gentlemen, at least those not infirm or aged, do not generally find Harrowgate a congenial watering place," Dinah said before the figures separated them again.

She vowed to talk no more and gave herself over to enjoyment of the music. The viscount was a skilled dancer, unlike Mr. Humberstone, and Dinah appreciated the ease of his participation.

"I believe there is interest to be found everywhere, if one cares to look for it," he said, when next they met in the dance. "And there are always pleasant people to meet." His gaze complimented her on being one of those people.

Dinah could not decide if she was flattered by his condescension or insulted by his flattery. She still had not decided when the music flourished to a conclusion. She had perforce to subside into a curtsey.

The viscount bowed elegantly over her hand. As he straightened he asked, "Do you receive callers in Robin Hood Lane, Miss Driffield?"

Taken completely by surprise, Dinah stammered, thereby annoying herself with her lack of composure. "I...I...y...yes," was all that she could manage.

"Perhaps Burlie and I might call to discover how you go on after this evening of dissipation, possibly tomorrow, or the day after."

"As you like, my lord; someone is always at home." Dinah had recovered enough to drop another slight curtsey. "Ah, there is my sister; if you will excuse me?" Without waiting for his response, she seized her sister's arm and walked away.

* * *

Sebastian Delamain, the Viscount Holly, was unperturbed by his lovely partner's abrupt departure. He found her quite enchanting and he had every intention of pursuing the acquaintance. She was very nearly the first person he had spied upon entering the ballroom. She had been laughing and the very air around her had vibrated with her personality. Her sherry brown eyes were flecked with gold, thickly lashed and wide open, surveying her world with candour and humour. She was not exquisite in the classic mode, but her small straight nose, silky tip-tilted brows and direct gaze were charming and, added to her vitality, gave her a gamine, uncommon beauty. Also, she was determined not to like him; he had every intention of discovering why. He was without conceit, but he enjoyed a challenge and Miss Dinah Driffield certainly presented him with one.

He withdrew to the nearest fireplace, which was unlit and adorned with a large feather bouquet, and surveyed the company with good humour. They were a motley assemblage of wealth and rank, youth and age. He had spoken truly; such diversity could not but interest him.

His friend, Burleigh Matherton soon joined him. Matherton had relinquished his flaxen-haired partner into the care of an older woman who, if resemblance could be trusted, was her mother.

"The women are most all aged or widows, and the men are merchants and manufacturers," Matherton announced. He had apparently been examining the society as well.

"What did you expect Burlie? It isn't Brighton, after all. They are pleasant, conversable folk in any case. Our partners were lovely," Holly said. He was watching the Driffield ladies surreptitiously. The bewitching Miss Driffield was laughing at something her mother had said. A widowed mother with two daughters, he mused? The young ladies' fine gowns gave no hint of straitened circumstances. Where was Mr. Driffield then? Matherton was speaking and Sebastian focused his wandering attention on his friend.

"Didn't expect anything...didn't expect to come to this ball, but for your blasted curiosity."

"Well, hasn't it been a good thing? Now we know that public balls in High Harrowgate are pleasant entertainment indeed, and that northern girls can be very, very pretty."

"Huh? Oh, those Driffle females..."

"Driffield, Burlie. And Miss Dinah Driffield is a masterpiece of nature's art." His gaze returned once again to Miss Driffield's shapely figure of medium height and her piquant, vaguely heart-shaped face. A peach coloured gown of some soft silk suited her pale, creamy skin very well, and a necklace of fine pearls circled a truly lovely neck. He discarded his theory of straitened circumstances.

"Not a diamond, but she's well enough I suppose, " Matherton said.

"Very well indeed," Holly agreed.

"Well now, that Hesler female is more to my taste." Matherton nodded at the fair, blue-eyed young lady who had joined Miss Driffield with a laugh and a flutter of her fan. It was impossible to ascertain if she was aware of Matherton's scrutiny.

"Good enough reason to spend a few days in Harrowgate then?" Holly, who had not a relative or dependent in the world to dictate the shaping of his days, was ready to change his plans for attending the shooting.

His friend was unsure. "They're fine enough, but we should be getting on to the Lowlands. 'Tis August 4 after all."

Sebastian knew that family and friends, obligations and engagements, weighed heavily on Matherton's mind. "The grouse will keep, Burlie," he drawled. "The grouse will keep."

* * *

"That is eight hanged in Lancashire and thirteen transported," Harriet Driffield, a promising young lady of fourteen years, reported. She was seated at the walnut parlour table where she pored over the Manchester newspaper that had been delivered that morning from the Harrowgate receiving office.

Her brothers Geoffrey and Hamilton prowled the pages of the Leeds Mercury, cast it aside and then pounced on an article in the York Herald. "Fifteen executed at York!" Geoffrey announced.

"I think that workers who are worried should not be hung!" ten year old Hamilton declared.

"But the judges who are designated to keep the public peace think that they should," Harriet said, tossing back a clay-brown plait that had fallen over her muslin-clad shoulder.

Geoffrey, eldest of the three, frowned. "The workers should not resort to violence just because they don't like the new machines. Can they not adapt themselves? And to call themselves Luddites after some mythical leader named Ned Ludd is nonsensical."

Dinah Driffield entered the handsome but simply adorned parlour to find her younger siblings in heated discussion.

"The papers have come," the boys informed her. "Manchester, Leeds, York and London. The price of wool is up, but so is corn. And there have been executions of Luddites."

"Great heavens, you have been busy. Hamilton, take your feet off the sopha; Mama will be down momentarily," she admonished her youngest brother. "Geoffrey at fifteen you are not too old to pick up those papers after yourself. This is Grandmama's house, not our own to misuse as we wish." She softened her peremptory instructions with a warm smile.

The children--for so Dinah thought of them--obeyed her without argument.

Geoffrey talked as he tidied the broad sheets. "Where is Adelaide? She will wish to know that the Luddites have threatened Jamieson's mill, despite Thomas' best efforts."

"They haven't!" Dinah could not contain her dismay.

"They have!" Harriet was intensely interested in political affairs, and could quote Lord Byron's speech against the Frame-breaking Act verbatim. "Thomas made a fine speech and gained the support of most of the workers but a rock was thrown and cut him badly."

"Thomas is hurt?" Adelaide asked as she entered the room. Her sensitive face crumpled with distress.

Dinah hurried to her sister's side. "I know Mama has had a letter from Mrs. Jamieson; she will know the details," she said. "She is coming down."

She drew her sister to a silk-covered sopha near the open window that overlooked Robin Hood Lane. Without, another sunny day promised heat, and the dusty street below was busy with residents and visitors.

The parlour door was opened by their grandmother's elderly housemaid.

"Lord Holly, and Mr. Matherton," she announced. Her round face was unusually dignified and solemn.

"Botheration," muttered Dinah. Bad enough that the viscount had haunted her sleep, now he must appear in person. Then she coloured, for Lord Holly checked on the threshold. It seemed he had overheard her exclamation, and he appeared to conceal a smile.

She rose to greet him and his friend and her welcome, though restrained, was all that was proper. She found herself unreasonably pleased that she had donned a new gown of primrose cambric muslin that morning. She reproached herself for the satisfaction; she had no wish to attract this aristocrat.

"Good morning, Miss Driffield. Ah, have we come at an inopportune moment?" the viscount asked, glancing about the parlour at its many occupants. "You seem uncommonly busy."

Dinah noted that he responded to her greeting gracefully, but was surprised to discover some uneasiness in his manner. He seemed to find the chamber over-full.

The younger members of the family all were staring at the visitors. Harriet had dropped her newspaper. Hamilton's eyes were round, and Geoffrey had been apparently struck speechless. She could understand his amaze; their visitors' sartorial elegance was prodigious. Mr. Matherton's garb was, as the previous evening, a trifle flamboyant. Lord Holly's was restrained, and he was as handsome in shining top boots and well-fitted breeches as he had been in evening dress. A dark green coat brought leaf green lights to his hazel eyes and his shirt points just touched his square jaw.

She shook off her thoughts, and paused as she considered the viscount's comment. Her glance became, if possible, even cooler. "We are at leisure, Lord Holly. This is in fact my family, my lord; my youngest sister Harriet, my youngest brother Hamilton there, and this is Geoffrey."

She watched the viscount conquer some discomfort and acknowledge the introductions politely. He was observing the children as though they were some rare exhibit at a fair. He did not approach them; stifling an impish smile, she wondered if he feared they might bite.

She saw that Geoffrey, in return, was absorbing every detail of the appearance of the viscount and his friend. His brightly striped waistcoat and carefully pleated trowsers hinted at his budding sartorial interest. She would be glad if he ignored Matherton's excesses and copied Holly's elegance. She would be happier if he found some other concern altogether.

"And of course you met Adelaide last evening," Dinah added.

At the sound of her name, that young lady rose and blindly curtsied to the gentlemen. Then she rushed past them. "I must find Mama," she murmured.

Dinah paid no heed, but invited the visitors to sit. She said, "We have had alarming news regarding a family friend. You will excuse my sister I'm sure." She was all that was polite but strove to be no more than pleasant.

The viscount did not seem deterred by her manner, and seated himself beside her on her grandmama's new sopha. He rubbed his right temple with two slender fingers.

She wondered if he had the headache, but sensed that her family somehow caused him to feel uneasy. She could not help but wonder why. The children were polite and, though avidly curious, restrained. She watched Mr. Matherton chat easily with her younger brothers, his manner as jolly as the previous evening but with the hint of condescension that she had noted at the ball. The viscount however was very unlike the relaxed and urbane gentleman of Monday.

"You have just received your post, I think," Holly said. Even his conversation was stilted.

"Newspapers," Harriet burst into speech. "They were delayed, three days, but such news. More trouble with the Luddites, and terrible punishments--execution and transportation. If only all the mill owners would deal with transition as Papa does; to be sure it is difficult for the weavers and finishers but there will be work for all if they can be convinced to adapt."

The viscount blinked at this flood-tide of information.

Dinah intervened, with a quelling look at her little sister. "The viscount will not be interested in our concerns, Harriet. He and Mr. Matherton have come north for the grouse shooting. The weather should be most enjoyable for your sport, my lord. I think it must be set to remain dry. Possibly it will be cooler in Scotland."

Lord Holly looked taken aback at the sudden change of subject. "We can only hope that it is. Shooting holds no appeal for me in the heat." He seemed to relax a little, and even managed a question to her younger sister. "You are interested, Miss Harriet, in the frame-breakers' plight?"

Dinah intervened again, giving Harriet no opportunity of reply. "What do you think of Low Harrowgate, my lord?"

Holly again rubbed his temple, a look of puzzlement on his handsome face at her interruption. But he answered her politely, "My observations have been limited thus far, but it is not what I expected. In fact, Burlie's aunt had given him a description of a bustling town with a busy social calendar. We find it not quite as we anticipated."

"I am interested in the frame-breakers and the response of our parliamentarians to their problems." Harriet inserted. "What..."

Dinah gave her another repressive look. Harriet stuck out her tongue ever so slightly at her elder sister, and flounced off to the window with her newspaper.

"To the elderly and infirm the town is busy and bustling," Dinah said, ignoring the interruption. "Their needs are more easily met than yours or mine."

The viscount looked mildly confused by her disregard for her sister's remark, but gamely followed her lead. "I am rightly reproached. You are of course correct. I have the intention to walk to the upper town later today; I shall bring you my findings of its attractions. My observations were limited to the hotel last evening."

"The walk is nearly a mile, my lord." She glanced at his gleaming boots. "Up hill and across the common land which is very rough. You would be better advised to take your carriage by the turnpike road."

"Oh I am not such poor stuff as you may think, ma'am; I do not begrudge my boots a little dust or a few scratches." He defended himself against her implied criticism with a beguiling smile.

Dinah swallowed hard, and said, "Then you will find that Upper Harrowgate has the advantage in situation over Lower, as you must have noted journeying to the ball. From its height, if it remains clear, you may see the steeple of York Minster to the east."

"I shall look for it..."

Dinah was relieved when her inane attempts at conversation were interrupted by the entry of Mrs. Driffield and Adelaide. She found the viscount's uneasiness more charming even than his composure; she needed to regroup her defenses to resist that charm.

The viscount and Matherton both rose only to be begged to be seated again. Mrs. Driffield chose a seat near a Pembroke table holding her work basket, and Adelaide crossed the room to sit with Harriet.

Mrs. Driffield entered the conversation in a pleasing, unpretentious manner that Dinah had ever admired and emulated. "Warton is bringing the tea tray, my lord. You will join us?" When he had quietly agreed, she said, "My lord, I must ask you about your name...Holly. How can your ancestors have come by it?"

"Simply a surfeit of holly on the estate given to them..." The viscount's smile was genuine and he seemed now more at ease.

Dinah could scarcely believe that ingenuous statement but was delighted to have her mother introduce an innocuous topic of discussion. She reminded herself that she took no pleasure in entertaining the aristocracy; she must not forget the pride and iniquitous conduct of the class. Mrs. Driffield was obviously unconscious of such difficulties; she treated the gentlemen as she might any caller, with civility and kindness.

Matherton interrupted. "At the time of the conquest, Mrs. Driffield. 'Tis an ancient family. Holly Court is the name of the estate if you can feature it. And his family name is Delamain--some Frenchy thing about 'hand'. Which has always struck me that if a 'delamain' grasped some of that 'holly' too tightly what would the reaction have been?" He glanced around the room for reaction to his wit, and was not disappointed by the younger members of the Driffield family. They laughed hilariously.

Dinah again caught a hint of discomfort in the viscount's reaction. It was gone before she could be certain however.

The elderly housemaid, with a younger assistant, brought in the refreshments. The elder Mrs. Driffield preceded them, her faded eyes keenly assessing the visitors. Both gentlemen again rose at her entry.

In the bustle of reorganization, the younger Mrs. Driffield advised her children, "I have had a note from Papa; he will be arriving in a day or two for a stay with us."

"From Leeds?" asked the viscount. He accepted, from the elder Mrs. Driffield, a Meissen tea bowl brimming with a fragrant brew. He added to his thanks a smile of great charm.

"From Leeds. That is where our home and our manufactory is located." Dinah took satisfaction in confirming his query. She should, she supposed, be flattered that he had recalled what she had told him at the assembly. She was discovering herself to be disconcerted and disappointed by his lack of noticeable hauteur.

"What does a manufactory do?" asked Burleigh Matherton.

Dinah watched Holly shake his head, but Matherton's obtuseness satisfied a question in her mind. She was right to judge them typically ignorant, idle, gentlemen of fashion.

"Our manufactory weaves cloth, Mr. Matherton," Dinah said. "Another in which my father is a partner, finishes the cloth. He has also interests in one or two foundries and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal!" Her challenging look dared the viscount to comment even as Matherton struggled with a reply.

"A man of parts," Holly said answering her challenge. "I can only envy his business acumen." His expression held sincerity.

Mrs. Driffield saw nothing amiss in this comment, and the elder Mrs. Driffield nodded approvingly.

But Dinah imagined disdain in his words. "We were discussing the Luddites when you arrived my lord; they are those workers who find the new machinery a dread threat, and whose only response is to destroy what they do not understand," she said. She was aware of an ignoble desire to make him admit ignorance, and wondered why her character had taken such a bitter turn.

"That is a common human reaction."

"They suffer for it."

"Twenty-three executions this summer, I believe. I voted against the Frame Breaking Act."

Dinah stared at him in disbelief. He was most well-informed, and she had been foolish to try to prove otherwise. As she coloured, Harriet gave a crow of triumph.

Holly gave no indication of satisfaction over proving wrong Dinah's ill-founded preconception.

"You will forgive us our preoccupation, my lord. This matter of course affects us closely, but it is hardly appropriate drawing room conversation." Mrs. Driffield reproved her children with a look but added, "You will like to know that Thomas is recovering from his injury, my dears. Adelaide is reassured, are you not, my love?"

"Adelaide is betrothed to Thomas Jamieson whose father owns a woolen mill at Pudsey," Dinah said to the viscount. She could not relax in his company, though she found herself longing to do so.

He proffered his congratulations gracefully to Adelaide, regaining some of the assurance which had been noticeable at their previous encounter.

She accepted them with shy grace.

"I am happy that your intended has suffered no lasting hurt," he said. He removed a gold half-hunter from his waistcoat pocket and scrutinized the timepiece. "Burlie, we should be making our farewells."

The opening of the parlour door interrupted his further words. The elderly maid ushered in Juliana Hesler.

Dinah hurried across the room to greet her friend. Mr. Matherton followed closely upon her heels.

"My lord, Mr. Matherton, I believe you have met my dear friend, Miss Juliana Hesler? Juliana, you remember Lord Holly, and Mr. Burleigh Matherton?"

Miss Hesler smiled in happy recognition, and offered a dainty curtsey.

"We are outstaying our welcome but we cannot rush away so soon after Miss Hesler's arrival," Mr. Matherton said. "Miss Hesler, you must tell me all of Harrowgate's chief delights."

Dinah stared in amaze at this obvious flattery and found herself immediately de trop. The viscount had risen yet again, and was standing near to her.

"My friend is ever susceptible to golden curls and blue eyes," he said in an undertone. His tone was light and apologetic.

"My friend is shy and unused to tonnish gentlemen and empty flattery," she retorted with hasty sharpness. Then she bit her lip. "I beg your pardon my lord. That was ill-said of me."

"You are very honest. I think you are only sorry that you spoke those words aloud." The viscount rubbed his brow again. "My friend is harmless I assure you, Miss Driffield."

They were interrupted by Dinah's youngest brother, who had wandered over after determining that all the cakes had vanished from their plate. "I do not suppose you are much for sport, my lord, other than shooting?" Hamilton asked.

Dinah welcomed the interruption. Despite her discomfiture at her exchanges with the viscount, she smothered a smile at her youngest brother's question. He made no secret of the disdain he apparently felt for the viscount's fine tailoring and slender build.

Lord Holly's long fingers again smoothed his brow. But he answered readily enough, "I strive for a balance of sport and scholarship and business in my life. I fence and box, and I greatly enjoy playing a game of cricket."

"Cricket, my lord?" Hamilton's manner changed with laughable rapidity. "I say, that is of all things my favourite activity. I suppose you have been to Mr. Lord's new ground in London?"

"I have seen it certainly; we have yet to play a match there however." The viscount seemed uneasy speaking with the youngster, but answered him with grave courtesy.

"And do you have the acquaintance of Mr. E. H. Budd?"

"Yes, I have that honour."

"And Mr. George Osbaldeston?"

"Yes."

"Then you must be a right one." Hamilton seemed to have come to some sort of decision. "What do you think of a left-handed batter, sir?"

Lord Holly cast a rather bewildered and, Dinah thought, harassed glance at her. She offered him no rescue however, and he was plunged into a serious conversation about cricket.

She regretted, one half of an hour later, that she had abandoned the viscount to Hamilton's mercies. He appeared to be enjoying himself, but she was not. She had seated herself beside Juliana to help her friend cope with Mr. Matherton's practiced gallantries despite that Juliana had no apparent need of her assistance. Matherton was an amusing visitor, and Juliana was quite obviously enjoying being the object of his flattery. Dinah, aware of her elder brother John's fondness for Miss Hesler, was attempting to divert Matherton's compliments. Her mother and grandmother were occupied with Harriet and Adelaide, and Geoffrey had gone. She looked across the saloon to the viscount and unconsciously appealed, with her gaze, for his help.

He disengaged himself from Hamilton and crossed the room with grace.

"Burlie, we must be off. We have indeed trespassed upon Mrs. Driffield's hospitality too long. Perhaps we may call again?" He turned to the elder Mrs. Driffield and bowed slightly.

The younger Mrs. Driffield responded. "We are fixed here for at least another two weeks, my lord. Perhaps you will join us for dinner some evening when my husband and my elder sons arrive." Her mother-in-law reinforced the invitation.

"You are both very kind. We should be delighted. We lodge at the Old Swan, ma'am. A note directed there will undoubtedly find us." The gentlemen bowed themselves out.

Their voices could be heard in the entry hall as they received their hats and walking sticks from the maid.

"What about the grouse shooting, Holly?" Matherton asked.

* * *

"Lord Holly may be seen everywhere in Harrowgate," Harriet announced, the next day but one. The Driffields stood before St. John's Church, High Harrowgate, chatting with various of their acquaintance. The old church, too small for its newly fashionable town, nevertheless loomed over them all. The ladies all carried parasols against the midday sun but the close air threatened a storm later.

"Juliana says she and her mama met with him and Mr. Matherton in the Promenade Room yesterday," Adelaide said. "And she says they are to attend at the Ball at the Granby on this evening. Lord Holly asked if they should meet us there."

Dinah, who was speaking with Mr. Humberstone and his invalidish mother, with an effort schooled her face to indifference.

"I encountered Lord Holly in Duchy Road. He was mounted on a devilish fine grey," Mr. Humberstone said. "Demmed frippery fellow. I had thought he must have left this town before now." His opinion of Lord Holly seemed to deteriorate the longer the viscount remained in Harrowgate.

With a speaking look at Dinah, Adelaide engaged Mrs. Humberstone in conversation. She, as always, called her son to her attention.

Mrs. Driffield took the opportunity to step next to Dinah. "The children and I met with Lord Holly, Dinah, yesterday at the haberdasher's in Paradise Row. He seems a very nice young man. He was searching out a hair brush."

Dinah summoned a curl of lip. "I am surprised he has not got a valet for such tasks; he is the veriest coxcomb," she said. "I cannot think why the Heslers are so taken up with him, and with Mr. Matherton."

Mrs. Driffield would not criticize her friend. "Mrs. Hesler may make her own decisions. Your disdain does not become you, my dear, and it is not like you to be so harsh. We must judge each individual on his merits, whether high-born or low. Mr. Matherton has not my undivided approbation but I think that Lord Holly has. He seems to find our family something of a novelty, Dinah, and if he is from a typically cold aristocratic family, I can only be glad to show him true family life."

Dinah tucked her hand in the crook of her mother's arm. "I must be harsh, Mama. They are fribbles. That is my opinion. Say you will not invite them to dinner. They'll have nothing to say to anyone, but condescend to us all and spoil the whole evening."

"I shall ask your papa," Mrs. Driffield said. "Your grandmama has quite taken to Lord Holly. She thinks he is lonely."

Dinah permitted herself an unladylike snort. "I think men of his sort are never lonely. Mama, you know John will be anticipating a cose with Juliana when next he is here, and we have Papa and John with us so little in the summer. Let us not invite strangers."

"You must recognize that I know what I am about, my love. If Juliana can be so easily distracted by Matherton, John should know of it. And you shall soon be at home and see Papa and the boys all the time. Shall we attend the assembly this evening?"

"I think I shall not, Mama. Does Adelaide wish it? Or Grandmama?"

"I think not. Perhaps we shall remain at home; there is a threat of storm in the air." She stared at her daughter consideringly. "It's not like you to be in a worry, Dinah. What's to do?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Mama. I just feel so--unsettled--around Holly and Matherton. They annoy me."

"Perhaps you are only unsettled around the viscount. He is a very handsome young man. You'd be different indeed from your sex, did you not find him...appealing."

Dinah found the idea too possible to be comfortable, and all too likely. She did experience a flicker of awareness across her skin when in the viscount's company. Surely one could not experience such feelings without one's own permission?

Her mother patted her hand, and with her usual uncanny accuracy read Dinah's thoughts. "We don't decide, Dinah, with our heads, where we will be attracted. Our hearts lead us there..."

With a smile, Mrs. Driffield moved to join Adelaide in speaking with Mrs. Humberstone.

Confused and concerned, Dinah stared after her mother, regretting the assembly that had brought Lord Holly and his friend into their midst.

Mr. Humberstone, with an elaborate clearing of throat, recalled her to the present. "A great annoyance, is it not Miss Driffield, to have these fashionable fellows plaguing us? Mama is quite put out that they bring their London manners and morals amongst us."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then coloured wondering how much of her conversation with her mother he had overheard. "Mrs. Humberstone need have no concerns; she is unlikely to encounter them," she said. Her statement was a trifle plain as she considered what the stout young man might have perceived.

He nodded ponderously. "She has confided that she is even grateful for her delicate constitution which prevents her from going about in society and having to associate with such men. And you know she usually regrets that she cannot attend at the quiet entertainments we enjoy."

Dinah took umbrage at being included in Mr. Humberstone's statement of implied intimacy. She was quite certain, and had been for several years, that Mrs. Humberstone's 'delicate constitution' was in fact made of iron, and that the illusion of delicacy was carefully nurtured to keep her only son at her beck and call. She was equally aware of Mrs. Humberstone's intention that Dinah should be her daughter-in-law and Bernard Humberstone's wish to make his mama's desire reality.

With those facts in her mind, she said, contrarily, "I could wish for more gaiety and activity. Harrowgate seems a little flat this year." She followed her statement with a quick 'good day' of cool civility, and withdrew from Humberstone's company. The big man seemed to be rendered speechless by her opinions, but she was uncomfortably aware of his small eyes' gaze following her as she joined her mother and sister and set off down Paradise Row.

Chapter Two

"I saw Lord Holly in the Lane, yesterday," Adelaide confided to her elder sister as they watched the children run ahead of them free of restraint. "He bowed most civilly and asked how we went on."

Dinah reluctantly withdrew her attention from the flower-strewn beauty of the Bog's Field bordering Lower Harrowgate. All the world was damp for the storm that had threatened the previous day had broken at midnight with rolling thunder, brilliant lightning and torrents of rain. Dinah had been kept awake by the tumult and she had spent much of the time in fruitless speculation about the viscount. She had struggled with his lively charm since his visit to her grandmother's home, but had had little success in banishing his image and his appeal from her mind. She had anticipated this walk, hoping to dismiss Lord Holly from her mind, and here was her own sister recalling him to her attention.

Now she forced out a tart comment to conceal her wayward thoughts. "Humph! I cannot think that he truly cares how we go on. We are so socially inferior to his sort that we are next to invisible. I think at least I have dissuaded Mama from inviting him to join us for dinner."

Her gentle sister stooped to pick a raindrop-sparkled cornflower from the long tufted grass at her feet. "No, have you?" she asked. "Well I think that is a pity, for he seemed well informed and conversable. And rather taken up with you..."

Dinah stopped walking and stared at her sister with concern evident in her brown eyes. "I would rather converse with a Luddite. At least he is likely to be an honest working man. Lord Holly and his friend are of that class of idle rich men that I most abhor. He is emblematic of all that is worst in Britain's society. Young gentlemen of his class have too little employment and too much money; they wander from watering place, to hunting lodge, to house party to seaside resort." She would not mention to Adelaide the fact that they frequented the most debauched haunts of London--its gambling dens and brothels. It occurred to her that she could not visualize Lord Holly in such places. "I doubt that he is 'taken' with me. And despite that he is charming and handsome he cannot command my respect. You should know that."

"I do know it. But I think it rather unfortunate for he seems a kind gentleman."

They walked on in silence, picking their way carefully among the wet hillocks of grass in the boggy field. Many of Harrowgate's mineral springs rose in Bog's Field making it perilous walking, but the children enjoyed jumping from tuft to clump endangering their boots and daring each other to great leaps. The sun combined with the humid atmosphere of the bog to form a rising heat. Dinah had removed her bonnet and was allowing it to dangle by its ribands from her fingers.

"Perhaps your sentiments will change upon further acquaintance?" Adelaide ventured.

"They will not!" Even to her own ears, Dinah sounded overly vehement. "And I doubt he would wish for extended conversance."

"You may be mistaken." Adelaide shaded her eyes with a slim hand as she stared across the field. "I think that may be Lord Holly coming from Crescent Road even now. I do believe he has seen our progress and is turning his horse's head."

Dinah followed the direction of her sister's nod, and watched a fine grey horse mince across the field avoiding marshy patches and bridling at imagined dangers. Holly effortlessly guided and encouraged his mount across the bog; they were a picture of fine conformation and excellent riding.

"Oh no," she muttered even as her traitorous senses tingled at the sight of Lord Holly's slim figure and handsome face.

The viscount's expression was eager and anticipatory as he neared. He lifted an elegantly gloved hand in greeting as he reined in before them. Geoffrey and Hamilton, who had ranged far ahead of their sisters' dawdling pace, came tearing back. Harriet, who was gathering wildflowers, made a more careful return to the party.

"What a prime bit of blood, sir!" Geoffrey exclaimed before anyone else had opportunity to speak.

The viscount dismounted with enviable grace, and bowed to the ladies. "Good afternoon!" His greeting encompassed them all, but seemed directed to Dinah.

She thought he appeared uncomfortable to greet her siblings and she wondered at it. She was certain he turned with reluctance to respond to Geoffrey.

"He is indeed fine, is he not? I found him at the livery in York Road. 'Tis rare to find such a fine hack standing for hire."

The boys paused to study the beast's conformation, and Geoffrey directed his small brother's attention to the horse's excellent proportions. Harriet ventured to pat its soft whickering nose.

"I should like to try his paces," Geoffrey murmured.

"I think I should not..." The viscount appeared startled and worried.

"Oh not in the bog. You should not have brought him in, sir. Treacherous footing don't you know..."

"Geoffrey, I'm certain the viscount can recognize that," Dinah uncharacteristically snapped at her brother. "And you shall not ride the horse."

"Perhaps if we walked to the road we might consider it?" The viscount seemed as surprised by his words as Dinah was. "If you will allow me to join your expedition?"

"Of course, my lord," Adelaide responded, apparently sensing Dinah's unwillingness to reply. "Geoffrey is a fine rider, my lord. Papa says he has the finest seat of any of the boys."

The viscount seemed uncertain. "He does seem to know horses," he said.

Geoffrey had replaced Harriet at the grey's nose, and was whispering to the animal who appeared to be listening attentively.

"He is devoted to horses, Lord Holly, despite we are town dwellers without landed estate." Dinah's words were delivered with something of a snap.

"Well, I suppose..." the viscount deliberated. They came out of the field, to the first gravel of the road. He came to a decision, abruptly it appeared, and turned to Geoffrey. "Oh here, let me give you a leg up."

The lad crowed with delight as Lord Holly aided his mount.

"He is a well-mannered beast," Holly said to the young ladies. They watched Geoffrey walk the grey off, with Hamilton keeping pace at his stirrup.

"So too is the horse," Harriet said, with a hilarious giggle.

The viscount was surprised into laughter.

Dinah frowned at her younger sister. "Don't be pert," she said. It was just the sort of jest she ordinarily enjoyed and she surprised herself with her admonition.

Harriet subsided with a puzzled and resentful look.

"The horse is excellent. And I think we need have no fears about your brother." The viscount seemed reassured that the boy could handle the horse and apparently wished to avoid sibling conflict.

"It is kind of you, my lord," Adelaide offered when it appeared that Dinah had nothing more to say.

"I had forgot that all boys love horses, no matter their age," the viscount said.

"Our brother Joseph does not," Dinah said. The roadway, exposed to the August sun, was shimmering with heat, and with reluctance she tied on her bonnet once more. "He had much rather spend time with a prime bit of machinery, than an animal more useful for work than idle pleasure."

Adelaide gave her sister a shocked look at her rudeness. "It is true that Joseph enjoys a machine, but he also enjoys tooling his carriage."

Dinah's colour deepened with awareness of her incivility. She was not by nature so graceless and daunting. Indeed she was known for her high spirits and love of laughter. It was the viscount who had caused such an alteration in her temper. Her awareness of him seemed a tangible thing. She could only hope she gave no overt sign of it. She could think of nothing to say.

"I believe I see poppies, Adelaide!" Harriet pointed to a spot off the road and headed toward it. "Do come along..."

Adelaide cast an uncertain look at her elder sister and Dinah responded with a beseeching one of her own. Then Adelaide gave a small shrug, and followed her younger sister.

Dinah swallowed, hard. She would, of all things, have had her sisters stay with the viscount and herself. Holly paced beside her, adjusting the length of his stride to hers, holding his hat and occasionally raking long fingers through his auburn curls.

"Do you ride, Miss Driffield?" The viscount seemed unmoved and even relieved by her sisters' departure. He had apparently been unaffected by Dinah's lack of courtesy.

She collected herself with an effort. "I do not, nor do my sisters. We have little need of mounts in Leeds. Most things are within walking distance, and we have our carriage when we require to go further."

"But the pleasure that a fine horse can give..." the viscount murmured.

He offered his arm as Dinah stumbled on a stone and she could not, without giving offense, refuse to take it. That she was loath to accept his support had nothing to do with dislike of him and much to do with liking him too well. She was far too aware of the muscle and bone beneath her gloved fingers and his superfine sleeve.

Her voice was even, though, as she said, "I like horses very well. But we have no country home, and so have not felt the lack of equestrian arts."

"No country home," repeated the viscount. "Of course. But how do you like the country, for such I do not scruple call this? Harrowgate, both towns, are closely surrounded by fine countryside."

Dinah's glance swept the pasture dotted with trees, bright with wildflowers and alive with birdsong. She found the scent of the marshy earth nearby and the clean, fresh air intoxicating. "I like it very well. And when I visit friends who dwell in the country, I am quite enamoured of the quiet beauty and the long walks, and all the other delights." She ended in a rush, realizing that for a moment she had dropped the guard that protected her from the charm of this nobleman.

"I am a countryman at heart I think," he said clearly unaware of her discomfort. "Holly Court is in Suffolk, and we are flat there; sunrise and sunset are delights to us. I am charmed with the dales and moors of Yorkshire. The wild mountains of Scotland too have an appeal all their own."

"I confess to an affection for Scotland; we have frequently visited Edinburgh. Well, Papa says it is more civilized than London, and quite as educational." She paused, drawn in to conversation against her inclination and enjoying herself despite her resolution. She wondered what he would say to her stricture on the country's capital.

"I daresay Mr. Driffield is correct. I too find Edinburgh much to my taste. But Suffolk, Miss Driffield, I would enjoy showing you the beauties of my shire. The Gog Magog hills are nearby--the windmills--surely your brother Joseph would find them of interest. And the sheep...I am certain that being in the wool trade you would like the sheep. They are Suffolk in the main. My estate grazes several hundred plus some Dorset Horn for cross-breeding and variety."

Dinah could not but be reminded of her early comparison. She thrust it aside and entered into a challenging discussion of sheep breeds and the wool trade that had once prospered in Suffolk.

It was more than half of an hour before the boys came trotting back to them. Hamilton was mounted and the grey tossing his head in enjoyment of the exercise he had gained.

The viscount said, in a sudden rush, "Miss Driffield, do you despise my so-called 'class' so very much that we may not be friends?"

"I had not thought my disapprobation so obvious, my lord. I hardly know what to say." She was startled and dismayed.

"The truth, if you please." He broke off seeming suddenly embarrassed by his question.

Dinah chose her words very carefully, at pains to make him understand, since he had troubled to ask. "We all, everyone that I know, have suffered slights and insults at the hands of the aristocracy, my lord. No matter that we have education and manners to match theirs, and morals and ideas to put them to shame. You persist in ignoring us, belittling our life's work, our values and our abilities." Her hesitation disappeared and she waxed eloquent. "Even my own dear grandmama--you have met her, you know she is sweet and good and wise and able--she was treated as less than nothing by a 'lady' of title her own age in one of the shops here in town. A 'cit' she was called; a person of lesser importance. I had rather be a 'cit' of courage and intelligence than an aristocrat with an empty head and heart."

"I think I had rather also," Holly said with grave courtesy and unmistakable sincerity. "But must every member of a 'class' be the same? Can there not be good and bad in all classes?"

"My father says the same. I believe his wisdom but I have not seen anything to prove him correct."

"I cannot claim that I will prove his truth, but will you allow me to attempt it?" he asked.

"I think you will not be in Harrowgate long enough to attempt or prove."

"You may be wrong in that. At least will you believe that I judge no one by his station in life but by his actions? And will you accord me the same favour? Judge me not by what I am but who I am?"

"I will try, that is all I can say," Dinah managed.

The boys were upon them: Hamilton was sliding off the back of the grey, Geoffrey clinging to the reins. "My lord, what is his name? We did not ask it of you," Hamilton called.

Holly seemed relaxed for the first time in the presence of Dinah's siblings. "They tell me he is called The Challenger. They have done some flat racing with him, at the stable. I mean to keep him for my stay."

"Perhaps we may meet again here," Geoffrey said.

"No, the Stray would be better for riding," his junior countered. "And it is excellent for practicing bowling, sir." He smiled ingenuously at the viscount, who was undoubtedly taken aback.

"I...I suppose, but we must not neglect your...your sisters," Holly suggested.

Hamilton hunched a shoulder, and Geoffrey laughed. "Oh they are content to wander about and gather flowers," he said. He waved a dismissive hand at Adelaide and Harriet who hurried up, their hands full of bright blossoms.

Drawn from her consideration of the viscount's words by her brothers, Dinah realized they had nearly come within the village again. "Geoffrey!" She grinned at her brother. "You know very well we enjoy a variety of activities!"

"Have you tried the waters, my lord?" Harriet asked, as she and Adelaide rejoined the group clustered about the tall grey horse.

"If I try any waters, it will not be those of Low Harrowgate. The Chalybeate would be more to my taste than the Sulphur, but no, I leave the waters to the infirm," the viscount said with a charming laugh. He reclaimed the reins of his mount from Geoffrey.

Dinah was conscious of thankfulness that her thoughts had not to be spoken aloud. She was reflecting that the word 'infirm' could in no way be applied to the viscount. He was the very picture of male health and beauty. Adelaide was staring at her curiously but Dinah could not manage to speak a word.

In the sudden silence the viscount remounted. He bowed gracefully in the saddle to the entire family as they began to walk toward the Crescent Inn which was shimmering in the heat of early afternoon.

"We shall meet again I have no doubt," he called as he wheeled The Challenger and cantered off.

* * *

It was not a long walk to Robin Hood Lane. The five Driffields were still discussing the chance encounter when they arrived at their grandmama's home.

The young ladies were standing in the spacious entry of the old-fashioned house when a knock sounded on the door behind them. They paused in the business of removing their bonnets as Warton, who had stood ready to receive them, moved to open the door.

Mr. Josiah Driffield and his eldest son, John were revealed standing on the doorstep. They were greeted with rapturous shrieks of welcome. They were well set-up, strong looking men, both of them, the younger with a marked resemblance to the elder. Mr. Driffield had abundant grey hair worn unfashionably long, whereas his son's brown locks were carefully cropped, but their level brown gazes were identical. Harriet flung herself at her father, and Adelaide was equally unreserved in greeting her brother. Geoffrey pounded his older brother on his broad shoulder and Hamilton, who had run to the kitchen, returned and clung to his father's hand. The travelers' hats and coats were born away with the young ladies' bonnets by the grinning maid.

The entire family flowed up the stairs and into the parlour. There the two Mrs. Driffields joined them with cries of delight, and queries about health and journeys.

After exchanging embraces with her well-loved father and brother, Dinah beamed around the sunny chamber at her family. There was nothing she more enjoyed than these times when her loved ones gathered. Family news and tidbits of information flew about the saloon. The din might have appalled the uninitiated.

When the excitement of reunion had faded a little, Harriet said, "We have a new acquaintance Papa. Viscount Holly, if you please, and his friend Mr. Matherton. They are vastly elegant, and the viscount wonderfully conversable. He is not at all high in the instep. Even Dinah likes him."

"Oh ho," John, the heir to his father's wealth, and well-loved eldest brother, chortled. "Even our champion of the middle classes is under the spell of an aristocrat? You are fortunate that Joseph was kept in Leeds by the new machinery. Our revolutionary would be disappointed in you."

"He need have no concerns. I am under no one's spell," Dinah said, though her colour was high. "Lord Holly is pleasant enough for a frippery fellow. He and his friend are on their way to Scotland for the 'glorious 12th' to idle their days away in shooting the poor grouse."

"They are very pleasant, intelligent young men," Mrs. Driffield said. She directed a quelling look at her offspring. Her glance at Dinah was reproving. "And you may judge for yourself, Mr. Driffield, for your Mama and I have invited them to dinner Monday evening."

This statement was greeted with acclaim by the majority of the family. Dinah was silent considering the unwelcome bit of news. Her pleasure at the reunion of her family was tarnished by an uncomfortable anxiety coupled with an unwelcome thrill of pleasure. Her brother John made his way to her side.

"I do apologize for roasting you, Dinah. It was just so odd to hear of you conversing with a peer after all that you have said, emphatically and more than once."

Dinah smiled at him, endeavouring to dismiss her concerns. "I have not changed my opinion, John. This Viscount Holly has come from London, where he no doubt 'did' the Season. He dresses with the utmost delicacy, and probably his valet strains the Swan's resources. He has a substantial estate in Suffolk which supports his excesses. And he is to go shooting in Scotland from whence he will wend his way south, visiting at all his friends' homes and boxes, until he arrives in Suffolk or London where he will begin the whole round again after Christmas is celebrated."

"Still so vehement. Remember Papa's admonition, 'good and bad in all classes'," he quoted their father's statement.

"I remember," said Dinah. She recalled the viscount's quick, charming smile, the way he absently rubbed his right temple with long slender fingers, his awkwardness with the children, and his well-informed conversation. Was he that rare exception--a 'good' peer of the realm? She could not credit it. "I strive to believe it."

"And how does Juliana go on?" John asked with ill-concealed eagerness.

"Very well," Dinah hesitated in her dismay. She had no wish to cause her brother distress with her suspicions, and so did not mention that Holly's friend was much taken with Miss Hesler.

Her brother did not appear to notice her uncomfortable silence. "Well, I shall be glad to meet your new acquaintances at dinner on Monday. You looked uncommonly dismayed by Mama's announcement."

"I thought I had dissuaded her from such an invitation."

Her brother frowned. "Are they really so very bad, these noblemen then? Mama is rarely wrong in her judgments. How can your opinion differ so from hers?"

"Foolish prejudice, I suppose." Dinah attempted to laugh off her concerns. "I expect Mama has the right of it. They shall be gone soon enough in any event." She wondered why the thought left her with a curiously hollow feeling.

* * *

The dinner party at the home of the elder Mrs. Driffield on Monday evening was more enjoyable than Sebastian had dared to hope it might be.

He and Matherton walked from the Old Swan to Robin Hood Lane in the early evening of another hot, airless day. It had not rained since Friday and the dust of Swan Road quickly coated their Hessians, which bothered him not at all, but irritated Matherton no end. Holly's friend had twice to ask him to moderate his long, quick strides as they strode past the Promenade Rooms and the Sulphur Well. Though he regarded himself as the consummate sportsman, Matherton was in less than top-notch condition. Holly concealed his amusement over this fact, and abated his speed. He contemplated his urgency, and realized that he was unreasonably eager to see Miss Driffield once more.

They were met at the door of the Driffield residence by the elderly maid, who ushered them up to the drawing room with a reverence that, Holly noted, Matherton took as his due. Sebastian gave her a friendly smile; she looked rather like his housekeeper at Holly Court. She responded to his overture with a dignified nod, which was just what his housekeeper would have done.

As he trod the stairs, he paid heed, as he had not on his first visit, to the simple, comfortable character of the house. It was undoubtedly crowded by the family visiting, for there were cricket bats, newspapers and needlework where they were most unexpected, yet he fancied the home burnished by the warmth of the family's affections.

"Hsst!" The sibilant sound caught his attention though Matherton was already halfway through the parlour door.

Holly stared up to the next broad landing of the staircase crowded with an acutely verdant fern in an aggressively Oriental pot and the children, Harriet and Hamilton. He was relieved he had time for no more than a wave of the hand and a quick grin before he was drawn into the parlour by a gust of sociability.

He and Matherton were the last to arrive. The necessary introductions were made with aplomb by the younger Mrs. Driffield. Holly was immediately taken with Mr. Josiah Driffield's quiet dignity, and the open, friendly demeanor of John Driffield. Dr. Hesler seemed from the first meeting a man of sound commonsense. Mrs. Hesler and Juliana he had of course met, and though they suffered by comparison with the Driffield ladies in his eyes, they were pleasant enough. A quick glance told him that Miss Driffield and Miss Adelaide were present and that Geoffrey was not; he recognized Bernard Humberstone with regret. The company was obviously well-known to each other. He collected his thoughts and laid himself out to be the consummate guest. As the children were not present, he was at ease.

The pre-dinner conversations were unexceptionable, but Sebastian soon became aware that Dinah Driffield was avoiding him. She looked exquisite in a spring green taffeta gown with a delicate fall of lace at the shoulders and bosom. A single emerald in a delicate gold setting was suspended on the white swell of her breast. He had to force his gaze elsewhere but removed it no further than her dainty ears where emerald drops hung against her pale neck. He took himself in hand once more, and applied himself to the conversation he was supposed to be enjoying with Dr. Hesler.

He was not seated near to Miss Driffield at dinner. He found the seating arrangements around the oval table refreshingly informal, though he could discern that Burlie was put out at the disregard for precedence. Holly had no such concern; he conversed amiably with his dinner partners, the elder Mrs. Driffield on his left and Mrs. Hesler on his right. He found Mrs. Hesler rather trying, but he was accustomed to sycophancy and kept up a semblance of polite interest in her chatter. Many people were in awe of titles and inclined to flattery in the presence of nobility. In fact some of his acquaintances expected the unctuousness although they disparaged the flatterer privately. He did neither and tried to put his dinner partner at ease. When her attention turned to Humberstone on her right, he gratefully turned to his other partner. The elder Mrs. Driffield was altogether a different companion. She was as Dinah had once said, sweet and kind and, he thought, remarkably astute.

He upheld a gentle conversation with her while enjoying the very fine dinner that was presented. At the same time he snatched glances at Dinah who sat across the table from him. It was a propitious situation; he could enjoy the play of thought and emotion on her mobile face while appearing to give every attention to the conversation in which he was engaged. The candlelight gleamed on her rich brown curls, and her sherry brown eyes sparkled at something Dr. Hesler said. He found himself fascinated by the curve of her cheek, the ever so slight tip tilt of her small nose and the line of her full lower lip.

"She's a delightful gel, my Dinah," her grandmother said.

Sebastian withdrew his attention from across the table and realized that he had lost the thread of conversation--and that he had been staring.

He wondered how to redeem himself, and finally said simply, "She is."

"In truth Juliana Hesler and our Adelaide have more regular features and more conventional beauty, but there is that about Dinah that puts her far beyond them."

To agree would be fatuous in the extreme; to disagree would be dishonest. He saw by the twinkle in the old lady's eyes that she understood his dilemma.

"I should be very unhappy were anyone to trifle with my Dinah's affections, my lord."

He heard the warning with clarity, and answered honestly, "So should I, Mrs. Driffield."

The old lady nodded approvingly.

Holly allowed his attention to be recaptured by Mrs. Hesler.

Minutes later he watched with real regret as the ladies withdrew. The party had been most enjoyable, and in his experience the tenor of the evening always changed after the gentlemen and ladies had been separated. He only hoped the gentlemen would not linger long over their port, for he would count the evening lost if he could not speak with Miss Driffield.

"Damned Luddites," Humberstone growled to Mr. Driffield, as soon as the ladies departed the room, and the port circled the table.

"Surely the threats have subsided?" Sebastian said, withdrawing from his reflections.

Mr. Driffield gave Holly's knowledge a nod of approval. "They have, my lord. But the trouble is by no means over. My friend Jamieson had a near riot last week. His son was injured."

"Ah, we were making our first visit to your ladies when word came of that attack," Holly said. He could see both Driffield men note the fact. "You still have fears of violence at your mill?"

"Perhaps not at my own..."

"I've a lively rabble at mine. Put on guards, aye and armed them. If they try anything like frame breaking, they'll regret it." Bernard Humberstone's small eyes gleamed with malice.

"Humberstone, you'd be better advised to explain to them the developments, the changes, that are taking place. They need information," Mr. Driffield advised. His tone was admonitory.

"So does Humberstone himself," John Driffield commented in an undertone to Holly. Dr. Hesler began to tell Matherton of the injuries he'd treated due to the labour unrest and Mr. Driffield attempted further discussion with Humberstone.

Holly looked his inquiry while savouring his wine, a very fine port.

"He don't understand the machines himself, much less the effect they have on the workers. But he'll not learn; he's one for force, not knowledge. Poor Father's always trying to make him understand." He refilled Sebastian's glass, and said, "We thought to take a break from the matter while here, so enough of it. You finding Harrowgate rather flat, my lord?"

"Not at all. All places have their own revelations and curiosities to discover," Sebastian said.

"Little of excitement here though, or diversion."

"If by diversion, you mean gambling or whoring, I am not a proponent of either." Holly ensured that his expression was alive with laughter and without intent to insult. "I am well enough entertained."

John uttered an involuntary crack of laughter; his eyes remarkably like Dinah's, bright with humour.

Sebastian added, "In fact, I have uncovered a livery with horses such as might impress anyone."

"Hood's in York Road," John said with immediate understanding.

"The very one," Sebastian responded. "I have a horse from them called "The Challenger" and I would back him against any horse in the county."

"Oh really?" John said. He took a case of cheroots from his pocket, offered one to Sebastian who refused it, and said, "I have a fine horse myself. Black gelding, name of Tar. I'd stake him against your Challenger."

"Indeed? Then perhaps we should see which is the better." Holly was not averse to a little sport.

"What's this then?" Matherton turned from Dr. Hesler on his other side apparently in time to hear his friend's last phrase. "Something on which I can wager?"

"You'll wager on anything." Holly jested with his friend and smiled.

"A horse race--my gelding Tar and Holly's livery find, Challenger," Driffield explained. "There's a course on the Stray..."

"I've seen it," Holly said.

"A flat race?" Matherton interjected. "I'll back Holly in a race any day. He's a fair rider, Driffield, and this Challenger is a fleet one."

"We've to return to Leeds two days hence, Thursday. Tomorrow would best suit," John Driffield said.

"Agreed," said Holly.

"We'll meet here--one o'clock?--and ride out together."

"A friendly race," Holly warned. "No money changes hands among us."

"Suits me. We don't gamble," Driffield stated with a challenging look at Matherton. There was no opportunity for that worthy's response as Mr. Driffield indicated it was time for the gentlemen to join the ladies.

* * *

In the drawing room, Geoffrey and Harriet had been permitted to join the company, though they had dined with Hamilton above stairs. Their deportment, thought Dinah, was impeccable. They had been carefully instructed to be on their best behaviour and so were conversing quietly and politely with their grandmama when the gentlemen entered the parlour.

Dinah had not thought she was on the watch for the viscount but she spied him as soon as he walked in. He was very apparent, being half a head taller than her father and brother though he was not the immense size of Mr. Humberstone. His auburn head was bent to listen to her brother, but she knew that he noted the presence of the children with some small discomfort. He had probably never been in the company of boys since he was one at Eton, and it appeared that he had no siblings. And it was likely that very young ladies like Harriet, had never come in his sphere at all. Nevertheless he grinned at them, and Dinah found the attractive smile most appealing.

She stood alone at the garden window; she had been staring into the twilight and absorbing all the scents of evening. When the gentlemen entered however, she sped her way to Juliana's side and settled to chat lest Holly should seek her out.

"Here comes John," she said to Juliana. She had known that her brother would immediately gravitate to Miss Hesler.

"And Mr. Matherton," said that young lady. "Is he not marvelously elegant tonight?"

Dinah, with discreet glances, compared him to the viscount, and found him wanting. The viscount's evening coat was impeccable in its excellent cut, masterful design, and corbeau colour. His black pantaloons fit to a nicety, and his pearl grey waistcoat supported only a simple watch chain. His auburn curls gleamed in the candlelight, and his alert expression and bright hazel eyes displayed no sign of overindulgence in food or drink. Matherton's voice was too loud, his laugh was too loud, and his manner very near to condescension. His blue coat with its wadding at the shoulder did not compliment his pea green striped waistcoat and his many fobs jangled discordantly. There could be no comparison between the gentlemen.

Before she could frame a reply, the gentlemen were with them. John was frowning.

"Miss Hesler, will you take a turn about the room?" Matherton asked.

Dinah watched her brother's frown deepen. It appeared he'd taken a liking to the viscount, but did not find Holly's friend appealing. If Matherton made advances to Juliana, Dinah knew that John would worry. He could compete with neither the beau's wardrobe or his polished address.

Dinah could only watch as her friend accepted the invitation and walked off, her hand on Matherton's arm.

"Never fear," Lord Holly said, as he strolled up reading the expressions of brother and sister with apparent ease. "Burlie is an incorrigible flirt, but seldom does more than chatter. He will not go beyond the line."

"Juliana don't know how to flirt with a town beau," John said.

"She seems to be coping," Holly said.

A piercing giggle threaded its way through the various conversations across the room. Dinah's frown equaled that of her brother.

"We did not see you at divine services Sunday, Lord Holly." Dinah said the first thing that came to mind then realized that she had put the viscount at a disadvantage.

"I can only plead unfamiliarity with the town, Miss Driffield. I was searching for a church in Low Harrowgate. It seems to me odd that the lower town has not got one. I found St. John's just today, and had a fascinating conversation with the vicar."

Dinah gulped back her surprise. "You visited St. John's?"

"I walked to High Harrowgate," he said.

Dinah allowed her expression to indicate her disbelief.

"The footpath is very well marked, even up the hill. It seems that citizens of Low Harrowgate have been traveling to St. John's these fifty years. Indeed, the vicar tells me there may have been an ancient chapel on the site. He has a few interesting relics that were uncovered when St. John's was built."

Dinah had been visiting her grandmother at Low Harrowgate for ten years, spending much of her summers there. It seemed to her that Lord Holly had learned more of the town in the past week than she had in all those years.

Humberstone lumbered up, pointedly ignored the viscount and turned to Dinah.

Dinah seized the diversion of his arrival. "And when do you return to Leeds, Mr. Humberstone?"

"I think I must leave soon, Miss Driffield, though I shall be desolate without your proximity."

Juliana and Mr. Matherton strolled up. Juliana's colour was high and John moved to her side.

"And you Miss Hesler? Do you intend to desert us?" Matherton asked.

Dinah saw him direct a discreet wink at Holly who stood a little apart from the rest.

Juliana coloured prettily. "Oh, no. That is, my parents shall be returning home to Leeds, but I am invited to stay on with the Driffields."

"I see. Perhaps we shall be gone. Wednesday is the 12th after all," said Matherton. "This has been a pleasant enough place to visit, though I must say I think my great-aunt exaggerated its charms. Some of the shops on Paradise Row are very fine, I suppose."

Dinah seized upon this topic. "They are. It is a pleasure to visit them when we are here in the summer. Our tonnish visitors in general acclaim them. Did you find nothing in them excellent enough to tempt you?" She was ready to challenge Matherton should he further condescend.

The viscount intervened. "Miss Driffield, will you show me the garden?" A wide door stood open to the small green space. "It remains very hot, does it not? I fancy a breath of fresh air."

Her inclination was to accept the invitation, and she consoled herself that she could not, with courtesy, refuse. Humberstone made a restless movement and glowered as she accepted the viscount's request.

Dinah placed her fingertips on Holly's arm. That prickling tingle of awareness crept over her skin again, as she felt the strength of the long muscles under her gloved fingers and the warmth of his covered arm brushed the bare skin of hers.

"It is a very small garden," she warned as they stood at the edge of the stone path outside the glass doors.

"Large enough for a stroll," he said. "And a private word--about walking."

Her gaze flew to his handsome face lit by the lowering sun. Copper sparks danced across his curly hair as they strolled into the greenery.

"You have twice doubted my interest in taking exercise and an interest in my surroundings. I regret you think me such a frippery fellow that I might not enjoy a pleasant tramp. I have actually very little interest in fashion or fineness," he explained with both reproach and humour in his voice.

Dinah allowed her disbelief to show in her brown eyes and raised brows. She tried to imagine such a handsome, elegant young man being disinterested in his appearance and failed. Joseph disdained on principle to give attention to his dress, but as his features were such as must please, he was still more than presentable. Her brother John, despite his stocky form and commonplace features, strove to attain some degree of elegance. Geoffrey, with some promise of masculine comeliness, was very aware of fashion and taste. Dinah could only think that a gentleman as beautiful as Lord Holly would be interested in making the most of his attributes. Gentlemen cutting a dash in town generally did, she believed.

"It is true," he insisted. "You see, I have a valet."

"Of course," Dinah interrupted.

"No, no you do not understand. I used to not have a valet. I prefer to do for myself. But three years ago I witnessed a road accident. A carriage, and a pedestrian; poor fellow's left leg was completely mangled. It had to be removed above the knee."

Dinah whitened as she imagined the scene.

Holly seemed not to notice, but continued, "It turned out he was a tailor's apprentice. And the tailor had no more use for him when he could neither run errands nor sit tailor-fashion and sew. Neither would the tailor help him to afford a wooden leg. So I took Skelmer on to wait upon me."

Dinah had a quick suspicion that the viscount had done more than hire the man. She could imagine that he had the unfortunate man nursed and perhaps he had commissioned the construction of a fine wooden leg for him.

But the viscount was continuing. "He valets me and dresses me like a tailor's dummy. So long as he doesn't get carried away and offer me a silk coat or Petersham trousers, I let him do as he likes. All this," he waved a comprehensive hand at his beautifully clad frame, "is down to him. Though he is not with me on this trip."

"I see," she said. She could only feel the statement inadequate, and did not really 'see' at all.

Geoffrey appeared at her side. His avid gaze was on Holly's neck cloth.