On an exhale, he answered, “My papa was blessed with the talent for managing estate accounts, but he had also hired extremely talented stewards, whom I trusted to act on my behalf during my years away. I haven’t visited Shalford Castle, but I’ve been informed that apart from having to refurbish a few rooms, all is well.”
Blake didn’t mention that only a few staff remained since he had not taken up residence after he inherited. He had always managed to obtain an invitation to a friend’s house for the holidays, and then he left for the Continent.
“That reminds me. Lucy should return home tomorrow.”
It took every bit of Blake’s self-control not to press Harrington for details of Lucy’s absence. His original plan had been to visit Harrington in the hopes he would have an opportunity to apologize to Lady Lucy for not joining her for supper the other evening. But when Harrington informed him that she had left Town, he had patiently waited for her return. Tomorrow.
Lord Edward, Harrington’s eight-year-old brother, bounded into the room, full of exuberance. “Lucy’s to return tomorrow?”
“Yes. She promised to accompany me to the Emsworth ball tomorrow evening.”
Blake made a mental note to go through his salver to see if he had received an invitation to the event.
“Devonton, would you care to join us?”
“Perhaps.”
Lord Edward faced Blake solemnly. “I’d rather stay at home and read a book than have to deal with the nattering of the ladies.”
Blake had never heard the word. “Nattering?”
“Yes, nattering. I heard Lucy use the term.”
Harrington coughed. “Edward, you are not to eavesdrop on Lucy. In fact, no eavesdropping at all.”
“Well, it isn’t eavesdropping if the person is speaking loud enough for all London to hear, now is it?”
“Edward, please do not be obtuse. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, Matthew. No eavesdropping.”
Blake chuckled as Lord Edward crossed his fingers behind his back while making the promise to his brother. Just as quickly as he entered, the boy exited. “Harrington, he is too clever by half. You will have to keep an eye on him and put his intelligence to good use.”
Harrington groaned. “Please do not tell me you were implying I should introduce him to Archbroke.”
“Of course I wasn’t implying such a thing. More to the point, I was stating the fact.”
Lord Edward, being the second son, would need a purpose, and if Harrington didn’t believe the Home Office could use a brilliant mind, then Blake would speak to his own superiors. The Foreign Office’s leaders were more broad-minded. They even employed female agents, which Blake believed was ingenious. He held in a chuckle at the idea of Archbroke employing a female to assist the Home Office. If he did, it would have to be one remarkable woman to put up with him as a superior.
Harrington’s fingers tapped against the chair but stopped when he asked, “Do you miss wandering all over the Continent?”
“Not particularly.”
“To have seen and experienced new cities, different languages and cultures.” Harrington’s voice was tinged with longing.
In an effort to keep the conversation and his tone light yet still communicate the challenges he faced during his time away from home, Blake replied, “Perhaps now that the war is over, the Continent might be a tad more alluring, but the constant traipsing from one supposed safe haven to the next was not my ideal life. Being held captive for days, weeks, on end was not the adventure I assumed I’d signed up for when I agreed to assist the Foreign Office.”
“My apologies. I did not mean to remind you of those times.”
“No apologies necessary, Harrington. I’m no longer a young lad seeking adventure. I am of an age now that I need to attend to my duties here in England.” He had just declared he was in search of a wife. Would Harrington encourage him to consider Lucy?
“By duties, are you suggesting you want to become leg-shackled? You have only recently returned. We have time before we need to marry.”
“Harrington, a wife could help me ease back into society. I’m unaccustomed to having people about, and Town life is not to my liking. I’d prefer to find a wife and retreat to Shalford Castle.”
“Devonton, you are but four and twenty. We’ll find you a mistress and…”
“You are not listening. I don’t want a mistress, Harrington. I need a wife.”
“A wife… Huh.”
“Yes, one that has a mind.”
Harrington chimed in. “A bluestocking?”
“A woman that can easily converse on varied topics, fashion, politics…”
“Not a bluestocking then.”
“A lady who is beautiful inside and out.”
Had Harrington not realized Blake was describing Lucy? Did he not deem Blake worthy of his sister’s hand? Blake considered Harrington like a brother. Could it be that Harrington viewed Blake more like a brother to Lucy than a potential suitor? If that was the case, did she see him in the same light? He would seek her out later this eve and try to uncover how she perceived him.
Eager to return to his town house to look through his salver, Blake bid Harrington goodbye.
Chapter Eight
Lucy hadn’t taken but a few steps into the foyer before Matthew accosted her. “You’re home! How was Theo?” He bussed Lucy on the cheek, then stepped back and took a harder look at her. His concern was written on his face. “Lucy, is everything all right? Did you have an issue on your trip? Was there an incident?”
Lucy had dark circles under her eyes. The journey home had exhausted all her remaining energy, and now she was totally drained of any patience she might have had left.
“If you would just let me speak, I’ll be able to answer your questions.” She sighed and walked into the drawing room. As she passed Kirkland, the butler, she glanced up and smiled. Hopefully the man would return with coffee, but she knew it was more likely Kirkland would bring tea, as a proper lady would drink.
With Matthew following on her heels, she turned and said, “I’m well, just a little tired from the travel. Theo has decided she should enter half mourning and will not come to London for the Season even after her mourning period is over. I was dreadfully disappointed and spent days trying to convince her otherwise. After all, misery does love company.”
In fact, she had corresponded with Theo over a series of days. Not only had Theo confirmed she would happily provide Lucy with an alibi, as she often had in the past, but she also faithfully wrote reassurances of her belief in Lucy’s abilities. Theo was a stout supporter of Lucy’s involvement with the Home Office, and she was ever grateful for her childhood best friend.
She sank onto the settee and curled her legs under her skirts as she used to as a child. She closed her weary eyes. Her mind was awash with memories of when she and Matthew used to play in the drawing room instead of up in the nursery. Matthew would pretend to be her guard. He would keep watch and listen for footsteps, but as soon as he sensed or heard someone approaching, he would wake Lucy up and help her to the chessboard, making it appear that they had been playing for hours.
The fond memories had Lucy smiling until Matthew muttered, “I had hoped you would return rested. You know we have a number of commitments to attend, and I need your support as I’m launching a new bill.”
When had he turned into such a stick-in-the-mud? “Matthew, what you need is a wife! She can then attend to all your initiatives, and you know the lords do not take bachelors seriously.”
This was an old but frequent argument the two of them had had for the past two Seasons. At the onset of Lucy’s first Season, Matthew had declared he was not going to consider marriage until he ensured she was married and suitably settled. Which was absolutely ludicrous since she was quite capable of taking care of herself.
As the words rolled about in her mind, she thought of Blake and their conversation. Perhaps she should share her plan to set up her own hou
sehold with Matthew, and then he might cease his insistence on her marrying.
She was about to outline her plan when he stubbornly announced, “Lucy, I’ve not the time today to discuss the issue. We both know my position on marriage, and it will not change. You are my sister, and you will be betrothed by the end of the Season. Please rest, and I’ll be back this evening to escort you to the Emsworth ball.”
Lucy remained with her eyes closed for if she opened them, they would be rolling backward, which would only infuriate Matthew more.
Assuming he was leaving at the sound of his boots hitting the floor, she opened her eyes. However, he was leaning over her with concern marring his features. “If you are really too tired, I will understand.”
Never one to not fulfill a promise, Lucy said, “I will be ready. Will all your friends be in attendance also?” She hadn’t wanted to call particular attention to Blake, but she was interested in finding out more about the man and in turn rule him out as the intended target.
With a narrowed gaze, Matthew replied, “Yes, I believe most of my set will be there in support. One never knows about Devonton. He tends to be somewhat of a recluse.”
At the mention of Blake, Lucy had fluttered her eyelids closed and faked a yawn, to mask her interest in Matthew’s response. The click of the door confirmed Matthew’s departure. Eyes already at rest, it was only moments before she was sound asleep.
Searching the crowded ballroom, Lucy spotted Grace and Grace’s aunt, Lady Emily Allensworth, by the terrace doors. As Matthew and Lucy’s arrival was announced, Grace turned toward them. Did her gaze linger a tad longer on Matthew than normal? Matthew’s penetrating stare brought Blake to mind. Blake had mysteriously provided Lucy with a whole new perspective.
As they made their way through the crowd, Matthew bent and whispered, “I’m headed for the card room. I expect you know who you are supposed to acquaint yourself with.”
He did not even bother to wait for her confirmation before he hied off in the opposite direction.
When she was within speaking distance, Grace asked, “How was your visit? You look exhausted.”
Lucy had chosen to wear an evening gown in lavender. A bold choice for an unmarried woman in her second Season, but she continued to wear the color out of loyalty to James. While James rarely entered her thoughts these days, she had yet to meet a man that made her feel as he had, secure and confident in her abilities. Since she was set on not marrying, Lucy had decided to wear colors that pleased her and not what was at the height of fashion.
She hid a yawn behind her gloved hand. “It was pleasant.” Trying to stifle another yawn, she admitted, “I hope to decline the first gentleman who asks me to dance so I can beg off for the rest of the evening.”
“Lucy! You know how important tonight is for your brother!”
Why was Grace so defensive of Matthew? Her feelings for him must be much stronger than Lucy initially believed. Testing her theory, she said, “I don’t know why he is being stubborn. He should just marry. That way I wouldn’t have to attend all these society events with him. All he has to do is find some politically minded bluestocking and make her the happiest of ladies. He hounds me to find a husband, but he doesn’t even pay the least attention each year to the lovely fresh debutantes. There are a number who would suit him rather well this year, yet he hardly ever dances with anyone.”
Grace’s features had transformed from calm and serene to tortured and heated. Why hadn’t Grace confessed her attraction to Matthew? Lucy considered Grace one of her best friends—they should be able to confide in one another. Was Grace keeping other secrets from her? Admittedly, she had never shared with Grace her involvement with the Home Office, and Grace never pried or questioned Lucy’s impromptu trips.
The color in Grace’s cheeks was beginning to dissipate as she said, “You two are both extremely stubborn. Matthew will marry when he is ready. It is not common for a man of his age to be ready to… how do the men refer to marriage? Leg-shackle themselves.”
Curious to find out the true depths of Grace’s feeling for her brother, Lucy said, “No one will take him seriously in the House of Lords if he doesn’t settle down and breed an heir. He has sound positions, and I want him to succeed. You should hear some of his speeches. He is brilliant.”
Admiration and pride flashed across Grace’s features. Had she heard of Matthew’s positions? The smirk upon her face indicated she was familiar with Matthew’s addresses. How could that be possible? Matthew only practiced in his private study.
But instead of a confession, Grace changed the topic entirely. “Lucy, Lord Hereford and Lord Archbroke are both young, handsome, wealthy, and very honorable. Why do you continue to treat them more like brothers than suitors?”
“They are like brothers! I know them better than they know themselves, and they…”
“What? Out with it, Lucy.”
“They… They don’t make my heart race.” Lucy paused, searching for the right words. “I want to look into a man’s eyes and see desire flare when he looks at me. I want…”
“You have been reading too many Minerva novels. Are you seeking lust or love?”
Lucy frowned as she replied, “Are they not linked? Don’t tell me you believe they are both independent. If you loved someone, do you not think you would also crave his physical attention?”
The lines in her forehead deepened. Now that she had spoken the words, did she believe them? She had loved James, hadn’t she? She had given her promise to marry him—how could she not have given him her heart as well? She tried to recall the brief moments James had held her. What had she felt? Nothing as memorable as the tingling sensations she had experienced while dancing with Blake. Perhaps Grace was right. Maybe it was one or the other. But to think love and lust were mutually exclusive did not bode well with Lucy.
She continued to debate out loud. “Although, men might argue that one should lust after his mistress and love his wife. Hmm… Perhaps love and lust might be considered independent emotions, now that I have given it more thought. I should also take into consideration that the probability of a marriage based on love is, well… near nonexistent.”
Lucy glanced at Grace, curious about her reaction to her monologue. Her features were as serene as ever, not even the slightest hint of a blush given the topic of discussion.
One of these days I’m going to break through her masquerade of total control. It was always this way. The more controlled Grace became, the more Lucy’s own actions spiraled out of control. The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck started to rise.
She glanced up to find Lord Devonton staring directly at her. He was standing alone, slightly hidden from sight by a potted plant. Why was he hiding? He had taken one of her favorite hiding spots, which raised her ire. Had he taken up the position on purpose? While he took on the appearance of being relaxed and unassuming, Lucy suspected he had ulterior motives. Was he spying on her? Now that he’d spotted her, why was he not coming to ask her to dance?
Their gazes locked. Lucy wondered why it was she could not draw her eyes away from him. Was he casting some sort of spell on her? Was Blake a mind reader? His actions at the Duke of Fairmont’s ball and the familiarity with which he addressed her had driven her to distraction during her assignment. Not to mention her imagination running wild with visions of him paying court, flirting, and dancing with another caused her heart and stomach to ache in a way she had never experienced before.
All her reactions to Blake made no sense. She hardly knew the man, but every time he was in her proximity, she was drawn to him. But was he as attracted to her?
Chapter Nine
Despite having entered through the side door, Blake found himself cornered by his hosts.
Lord Emsworth said, “Devonton, it is a pleasure to finally see you back in Town.”
“My lord, we are glad you are here this evening.” Lady Emsworth’s eyes raked him over and then shone with pride. The couple had always been generous toward
him. They were among a small group that were close friends of his parents, who had provided support when he needed it most.
“Lord Emsworth, it is a pleasure. Lady Emsworth, you have outdone yourself tonight. The ball is a crush, and I can see there are many lovely ladies in attendance.”
Her ladyship gave him a curious look but politely replied, “Please allow me to make any introductions you might seek.”
Perhaps in his haste to please the woman, he had overstepped. For there was only one woman he was interested in seeking out.
“My thanks, Lady Emsworth. Excuse me. I must find Lord Harrington.” Blake briskly made a retreat and set out to find a private location from which he could observe the crowd.
Having found the perfect spot, he took full advantage of his height and scanned the ballroom. As soon as Lucy was in his sight, he mumbled, “Goodness, she is beautiful.”
She was wearing a silk gown that shimmered as she moved. What could she be possibly discussing with Lady Grace? Lucy’s hands fluttered about in the air, her animation transforming him from bored to curious. Blake’s full attention was caught when she ran her gloved hand up along her arm, followed with a fluttering motion near her heart. He wished he could read lips, but from her expression and the slight blush on her cheeks, he imagined it was not a discussion on the latest fashion.
After what felt like an eternity, Blake finally caught Lucy’s gaze, and once he had it, he was not going to be the first to break contact. He could look into those ever-changing gray-blue eyes all night if need be. Blake had missed her. Had she really left Town to visit a friend in the country? An unsettling feeling in his gut caused him to believe the excuse for her disappearance right after their meeting to be a ruse.
What am I doing standing here? I should just walk over and ask her for a dance. He was about to give up the prime spot from which he could see everything and everyone when Archbroke sidled up to him. In the end, it was Blake who broke his gaze from Lucy, which promptly made her smile.
Secrets of Lady Lucy Page 5