Miss Carlyle's Curricle: Signet Regency Romance (InterMix) Read Online Free PDF
Author: Karen Harbaugh
the cup she held. She put down the cup, blindly, almost upsetting it, before Mr. Sinclair gently took it from her hand and set it in the saucer. “The curricle?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Carlyle.” The solicitor looked at her sympathetically. “It is to do with as you wish.”
She stood suddenly, the sensation of her wringing hands the only thing that kept her from total numbness. “Is it not wrecked? I had thought—since my uncle—” Her throat closed, and she could only stare at the solicitor, unable to speak, her legs shaking.
Mr. Barrett gazed at her kindly. “No, Miss Carlyle, it has only some slight damage to the body, and the wheel and axle need some repair, but it can be mended in a very short time. I understand it is an unusual vehicle—”
“Unusual? It is a scandal that such a vehicle be given to a young lady!” Mr. Southworthy cried. “A perch phaeton, at best, but a curricle?” His lips pursed together in disapproval. “Especially when the vehicle was the cause of such a tragedy.”
“What—I don’t—A scandal?” Diana’s numbness faded to bewildered pain as her gaze fell on Mr. Southworthy. The pain quickly gave rise to anger. “A scandal that my uncle has done me the honor of giving me his curricle? That the best sportsman in this county believed me to be worthy of it?”
“With all respect due to Lord Brisbane,” Sir James said, “I believe the speed at which he was going in the curricle and some unfortunate rut in the road caused his accident. An excellent whip, his lordship, but even excellence can fall before mischance.” There was an edge to his tone, as if he believed Lord Brisbane’s judgment to be faulty, or his abilities less than excellent.
Diana turned to Sir James and her hands turned into fists, and her voice rose. “Whatever you might think of Lord Brisbane or his abilities, I am honored—
greatly
honored—to have received this gift.”
“Diana!” her mother’s voice was sharp with reproof.
“I won’t—
won’t
—have them saying anything against Uncle Charles, Mama! Anything!” Diana cried passionately.
“Diana!” her mother said again, frowning.
Diana felt her hand taken gently and she turned to find Mr. Sinclair standing near her and nodding sympathetically. “You must admit, Miss Carlyle, that it is a most unusual bequest. It is not many young ladies who are judged capable of driving a curricle, and even more unusual is the thought of a young lady owning one. Obviously your uncle knew differently. However, you cannot expect such a bequest not to startle anyone. Indeed, am I mistaken in thinking you, too, were surprised?”
Diana stared at him for a moment, caught by the look of understanding and command in his eyes. A glance at her mother made her feel ashamed at her loss of control. She shook her head slowly, her face heating. “No, you are right, Mr. Sinclair. I was not expecting it. I have been overset—I was fond of my uncle.” She turned to her mother. “I am sorry, Mama. My outburst was inexcusable.” She cast an embarrassed glance at Mr. Bartlett. “Please, sir, do go on. My apologies for the interruption.”
The solicitor nodded kindly. “Understandable, Miss Carlyle. This is a grievous time, to be sure.” He looked over his spectacles at Sir James and Mr. Southworthy, both of whom seemed to be looking elsewhere.
Diana looked at Mr. Sinclair gratefully. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured.
“It was nothing, I assure you,” he replied. “It must be difficult for both yourself and your mother.”
Her mother—shame overcame Diana, for in her outburst she had not thought of her mother, only of herself. She cast an apologetic look at Mrs. Carlyle across the room, and saw her mother nod in acceptance, then saw her smile slightly as she looked from Diana to Mr. Sinclair. Diana became conscious of his hand still holding hers, and she pulled away, sitting hastily on her chair.
Mr. Bartlett cleared his throat again and adjusted
“Yes, Miss Carlyle.” The solicitor looked at her sympathetically. “It is to do with as you wish.”
She stood suddenly, the sensation of her wringing hands the only thing that kept her from total numbness. “Is it not wrecked? I had thought—since my uncle—” Her throat closed, and she could only stare at the solicitor, unable to speak, her legs shaking.
Mr. Barrett gazed at her kindly. “No, Miss Carlyle, it has only some slight damage to the body, and the wheel and axle need some repair, but it can be mended in a very short time. I understand it is an unusual vehicle—”
“Unusual? It is a scandal that such a vehicle be given to a young lady!” Mr. Southworthy cried. “A perch phaeton, at best, but a curricle?” His lips pursed together in disapproval. “Especially when the vehicle was the cause of such a tragedy.”
“What—I don’t—A scandal?” Diana’s numbness faded to bewildered pain as her gaze fell on Mr. Southworthy. The pain quickly gave rise to anger. “A scandal that my uncle has done me the honor of giving me his curricle? That the best sportsman in this county believed me to be worthy of it?”
“With all respect due to Lord Brisbane,” Sir James said, “I believe the speed at which he was going in the curricle and some unfortunate rut in the road caused his accident. An excellent whip, his lordship, but even excellence can fall before mischance.” There was an edge to his tone, as if he believed Lord Brisbane’s judgment to be faulty, or his abilities less than excellent.
Diana turned to Sir James and her hands turned into fists, and her voice rose. “Whatever you might think of Lord Brisbane or his abilities, I am honored—
greatly
honored—to have received this gift.”
“Diana!” her mother’s voice was sharp with reproof.
“I won’t—
won’t
—have them saying anything against Uncle Charles, Mama! Anything!” Diana cried passionately.
“Diana!” her mother said again, frowning.
Diana felt her hand taken gently and she turned to find Mr. Sinclair standing near her and nodding sympathetically. “You must admit, Miss Carlyle, that it is a most unusual bequest. It is not many young ladies who are judged capable of driving a curricle, and even more unusual is the thought of a young lady owning one. Obviously your uncle knew differently. However, you cannot expect such a bequest not to startle anyone. Indeed, am I mistaken in thinking you, too, were surprised?”
Diana stared at him for a moment, caught by the look of understanding and command in his eyes. A glance at her mother made her feel ashamed at her loss of control. She shook her head slowly, her face heating. “No, you are right, Mr. Sinclair. I was not expecting it. I have been overset—I was fond of my uncle.” She turned to her mother. “I am sorry, Mama. My outburst was inexcusable.” She cast an embarrassed glance at Mr. Bartlett. “Please, sir, do go on. My apologies for the interruption.”
The solicitor nodded kindly. “Understandable, Miss Carlyle. This is a grievous time, to be sure.” He looked over his spectacles at Sir James and Mr. Southworthy, both of whom seemed to be looking elsewhere.
Diana looked at Mr. Sinclair gratefully. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured.
“It was nothing, I assure you,” he replied. “It must be difficult for both yourself and your mother.”
Her mother—shame overcame Diana, for in her outburst she had not thought of her mother, only of herself. She cast an apologetic look at Mrs. Carlyle across the room, and saw her mother nod in acceptance, then saw her smile slightly as she looked from Diana to Mr. Sinclair. Diana became conscious of his hand still holding hers, and she pulled away, sitting hastily on her chair.
Mr. Bartlett cleared his throat again and adjusted