Empathy was written all over Roxbury’s features. “Well, my mama and sister will be attending the Redburn house party. I swear my mama is at her wits’ end to marry Mary off, and if she can contrive a plan to compromise my sister, I’m sure she would at this point.”
It was evident both men cared deeply about their sisters’ welfare and future. How nice it must be to have a sibling.
With a conspiratorial smile, Harrington quipped, “I might have to join forces with your mama, as I’m having the same issues with my own sister.”
Roxbury confessed, “Sisters with above-average intelligence can be a challenge, but since I married a woman of similar disposition, I’m of the mindset that Mary just needs to find a gentleman who can see beyond her mantle. None of my set can even keep up with her.” Roxbury’s gaze fell upon Blake once more.
Harrington leaned against a stall. “In that case, I sincerely hope I can convince Lucy to go to the Redburn house party.”
“Good luck, Harrington.” Roxbury left with a broad smile on his face.
“Interesting fellow,” Blake commented. Roxbury’s regard for women with intelligence was rare. Why had he received pointed looks from the man at the mention of his sister? Roxbury knew nothing of him.
“Devonton, interesting doesn’t even begin to describe that man.”
Chapter Eleven
Lucy had been busy directing a guest room to be cleaned and aired out for Blake when the sounds of a horse and carriage caught her attention. She peeked out the window to see a valet alight carrying two valises. Interesting. The man traveled light. Perhaps his conservative style did not warrant multiple trunks. Or did he act with an ulterior motive?
Lucy still found Blake to be confounding. The man he presented to the ton could easily be referred to as nondescript. His clothing was conventional, nothing garish or out of style. She peered over at the wardrobe she had ordered to be cleared for him and determined it would definitely be adequate.
Her gaze wandered to the bed. Would Blake fit? Did he sleep in a nightshirt? She had overheard one of the upstairs maids share tales with another that her own brother opted to sleep in only his smalls. Images of Blake’s large form brought heat to her cheeks. She really shouldn’t be picturing Blake in his smalls, but it was an entertaining distraction.
She jumped as the door swung open.
“Beg pardon, my lady.” It was the valet she’d seen from the window. He bowed and began to withdraw.
“No—do come in. Are you Lord Devonton’s man?”
“Yes, my lady.”
At his hesitation, she attempted one of Matthew’s eyebrow lifts, hoping for more information. “And?”
“Mr. Kirkland was detained belowstairs, my lady. I’m Riley, if your ladyship pleases, at your service.”
“We are pleased to have your master with us.” Lucy smoothed out her skirts. “I should go check on Kirkland.”
“I believe Lord Edward has him occupied.”
“Oh, well then, he should be up shortly. If you need anything, please advise Kirkland. I’m sure he will come to show you the servants’ quarters.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As Lucy left the room, she heard Riley mutter, “Finally to be among those who value English tradition.”
What a peculiar statement from a valet! What exotic habits had Blake picked up during his travels? An electric shiver ran down her spine. The ton often shuddered and ridiculed foreign practices.
She really should refrain from woolgathering about Blake, but her mind refused to relinquish him as a topic. It was his eyes that mesmerized her. Or was it his innate confidence? Unlike the other gentlemen of Matthew’s set, Blake was more interested in her and her thoughts than his own.
Absently, Lucy wandered down the hall to her room. What she should focus her attention on was gathering a complete list of all the possible Lord Ds and not on one particular Lord D.
Nose buried in her copy of Debrett’s, Lucy lost focus when there was a commotion out in the hall. Resisting the temptation to peek out, she pressed her ear to her door.
Kirkland’s stoic voice reverberated. “Lord Devonton, it is a pleasure to be of service to you. Lord Harrington has bid you see him in his study. I’ll be happy to show you the way.”
When the sound of footsteps descending the stairs became faint, she popped her head out of her door, only to see Edward, was doing the same.
He rushed to her. “Was that Lord Devonton?”
“Yes, it was. He is to reside with us while repairs to his town house are made.”
Her younger brother’s excitement was palpable. It would be good to have another male role model for Edward. Matthew was always preoccupied with estate affairs, and he rarely saw Edward. Lucy tried her best to carve out time for him since their mama was all but absent. Lucy had taught Edward how to dance and play chess and the pianoforte, but she sensed he would prefer to be riding or fencing with Matthew.
Edward pushed his way into her room and said, “He has the most interesting tales of the Continent.”
“And how would you know?” Lucy maneuvered him back out into the hall.
Walking to his room, Edward replied over his shoulder, “He came to visit every day while you were in the country.” He wagged his eyebrows at her before he closed his door.
Lucy found this bit of information of interest. What had prompted Blake’s visits? What were her brother and Devonton up to? Had Matthew been encouraging Blake to pursue her? Was he that desperate to have her off his hands?
Occupied with compiling a complete list of Lord Ds, Lucy had managed to avoid Blake for days. Wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she read over the list once more:
The Marquess of Dunhill
The Earl of Devonton
Viscount Dumont
Baron Draven…
The list continued with names of eldest sons of dukes, marquesses, and earls, all who held titles.
With her copy of Debrett’s and the social columns she hardly ever read, she had eliminated half the names on her list, those who could not be of age, were too old, or were unlikely to have any connection to the Continent. There remained a few who could not easily be eliminated, Blake being one of them. She was frustrated with her lack of progress and cursed not having paid better attention at social gatherings, since it was an excellent source of information on gentlemen and their activities.
Lucy felt the pressure of time running out. She needed to notify the lord of the threat, for she was aware Archbroke often took the stance that individuals were on a need-to-know basis and would feel justified in dealing with the matter without alerting all parties involved. Blake remained on her list of potential targets. Why was she hoping that there would be another more likely? If she approached Blake, would he believe her? Would he take the threat seriously or dismiss her claims as ludicrous?
She needed a break. Pulling out one of her Minerva novels, she tucked her notes away and curled up on her bed to read. She was so deeply engrossed in the book that she didn’t hear Matthew scratching at her door until he asked, “Lucy, may I come in?”
He was always a stickler for privacy, and Lucy could count on him to give her ample time to hide whatever she was working on or make sure she was appropriately attired. Taking a moment to hide the lurid novel, Lucy hopped off the bed and then stood in the middle of the room.
“Please come in.”
The door opened, and Matthew drew in a deep breath as he crossed the threshold and then began, “Lucy, I’ve received an invitation to the Redburn house party. We will leave on Monday and stay for the week. Lord Devonton will be accompanying us.”
Lucy threw her hands in the air. “A house party! Nothing virtuous occurs at house parties. You are not trying to marry me off, are you?”
“You have been hiding in your room for the past four days! It was Devonton’s inquiry into your health this morning that made me realize you have not joined the family for any meals.”
Had it been four days?
Was Matthew insinuating she was behaving like their mama? Hiding and absconding from family responsibilities? Lucy had taken all her meals alone in her chambers in an attempt to elude Blake. Despite her efforts to avoid the man, he was a constant distraction. His footsteps had a distinct pattern, slowing each time he passed her door. Questions of where he was in the house or where had he ventured to when he left plagued her. The man was inevitably driving her mad.
Lucy replied, “You know I am in perfect health. I prefer privacy.”
While she had remained behind closed doors, Carrington had kept her fully informed of Blake’s coming and goings. He was an early riser. Lucy had spied him meeting with Edward every morning from her window. The two of them would gallop off, with Edward always eagerly setting the pace. But they never failed to return in time for her brother to start his studies.
Edward was another source who willingly provided updates. Every evening before retiring to bed, he would stop by Lucy’s chambers and regale her with the day’s events. It warmed her heart to see Edward happy. Unexpectedly, images of Blake with children of his own floated before her.
Lucy’s gaze snapped up to meet Matthew’s as he tapped his glove against his thigh. Had Matthew asked her a question while she was woolgathering? Deciding it best to speak first, Lucy continued to explain, “I’ve just been preoccupied with a new novel I purchased. Actually, a couple, to be honest.”
“Only two?” Abruptly Matthew’s eyes flared, and he asked, “You haven’t been hiding from Devonton, have you? He’s like a brother.”
Lucy wasn’t about to share that her feelings for Blake were anything but brotherly. Ignoring Matthew’s question, she said, “I’d rather not attend the Redburn house party. I could stay here in Town with Mama and Edward. I promise not to attend any social events without a chaperone while you are away.”
His brows drew together, and Lucy sensed Matthew’s patience was coming to an end. “Lucy, I’ve told you that I will not force you to marry, but if you do not leave your room, how are you ever to find someone to love? Please, attend the house party with me and try to socialize. I believe Lady Mary is attending, and perhaps you can renew your friendship.”
Matthew’s last remark had Lucy eyeing him carefully. “Are you certain Lady Mary will be in attendance? Will Grace be attending also?”
“I know for a fact Lady Mary has accepted; however, Grace has declined.”
Of course, Grace was not attending—she had firm opinions about the activities that occurred at house parties and vowed she would never be a guest at one.
Matthew’s eyes followed Lucy as she paced and weighed the arguments for and against attending the house party. It would be an opportunity for her to mend her relationship with Lady Mary. The Redburns were well connected and might provide information to assist her in narrowing the list. The less formal setting would allow her to discreetly spend more time with Blake—but was that an advantage or disadvantage?
Turning to face Matthew directly, Lucy declared, “I will attend the Redburn house party.”
Chapter Twelve
Blake and Harrington maintained memberships at both White’s and Brooks’s. While Matthew favored White’s, Blake felt more comfortable at Brooks’s and had spent most of his days there to avoid both Stanfords. Blake’s mind refused to release the memory of Lucy’s body in his arms. He constantly pictured the lush curve of her lips and often caught himself fantasizing about kissing her, and then his imagination had her fully undressed and lying on his bed. Her sleeping only a few doors away from him each night did not help.
Blake occupied his usual high-back chair near a fireplace which afforded him lines of sight to both entrance and exit.
“Devonton.”
Who had addressed him?
His gaze shifted towards the door. It was none other than the head of the Home Office. “Archbroke.”
Settling into the chair next to his, Archbroke nodded to the paper in Blake’s hands. “Busy?”
“Always.”
“Haven’t seen you come by Gentlemen Jackson’s or attend many social engagements lately.”
Harrington had convinced Blake to accompany him to a few dinner parties, a soiree or two, but all were private affairs hosted by close friends from Oxford. At every event, Harrington had introduced him to a variety of eligible young ladies, but none could hold his attention. Quite rudely, his thoughts often strayed to Lucy and what she was doing holed up in her rooms.
“Is that all your set does?” he asked Archbroke. “Attend races? Play Cards? Thrash each other in the ring?”
While Archbroke had not attended Oxford, he was deeply ingrained with those who had.
The Home Secretary glanced at the other members nearby. “What else could you possibly be interested in doing?”
One eyebrow raised, Blake rattled the paper in his hand. “Get involved in the building of factories? New industries? Better conditions for those who work our lands?”
Archbroke scoffed, “Preposterous! That sounds like work.”
Blake chuckled. “Yes, work.”
Accustomed to working, he missed having a particularly defined purpose or mission. Now he must define his own assignments and tasks. First, he must marry and beget an heir. Immediately he envisioned Lucy.
Archbroke leaned over the arm of the chair and asked. “Shouldn’t you be out courting a lady?”
Had Blake somehow revealed his thoughts? No, he was a master of blank expressions. However, Archbroke was considered a genius. Or had the man acted upon a hunch?
“I have the entire Season to make my choice.” It was a lie. Blake didn’t have time to waste—he needed to return to his country estate with enough time to effectively implement some of the farming techniques he had learned over on the Continent. Crop yields for the past two years had dwindled, and his tenants would greatly benefit from the new methods.
With a smirk, Archbroke taunted him. “If I remember correctly, I don’t believe you succeeded in convincing Lady Lucy to dance with you at the Emsworth ball.”
Apparently, Blake wasn’t the only one with an excellent memory. Why was Archbroke intent on goading him? Of what benefit would it be to him if Blake was to take an interest in Lucy?
“You are correct, but Harrington did grant me the honor of escorting her home.”
Seeing the shock in Archbroke’s eyes, Blake regretted disclosing that last piece of information. He didn’t want to jeopardize Lucy’s reputation in any way. Despite being drawn to the woman like a magnet, she was Harrington’s sister. But could he deny his attraction to her? She was a complete enigma. She showed no apparent interest in him, yet there was an undeniable pull that existed between them.
Archbroke rose and, in an authoritative tone, said, “Devonton, it appears you have spent too many years away.”
Why did the man have the uncanny ability to access a situation and sum it up succinctly? Blake had come to the same conclusion just the other day. He would have to decide soon what do to about Lucy. If by the end of the house party she showed no further interest in him, he would have to consider some other lady. Mayhap Lady Mary, whom Lucy had recommended to him.
Chapter Thirteen
After her conversation with Matthew the day before, Lucy refused to be considered as someone cowering or hiding. She awoke and informed Carrington she was going to break her fast with the family.
“Do you have a preference for either the lemon or the mint day dress?”
“Why is it that you must reference food in some fashion when discussing my attire?”
“It’s the only way I know to make them more appealing.”
“Carrington!”
Her maid’s eyebrows rose in innocence.
“Very well, mint it is.”
Lucy made her way down to the breakfast room and was taken aback by the sight of her mama seated at the table. Since when had she removed herself from her rooms? “Mama?”
“Lucy, dear! Lord Devonton has provided Edward with a deli
ghtful challenge. Edward must find some obscure town that Devonton has visited on a map. If Edward can locate it, Devonton will share with us a story from his adventures in that very location.”
Edward was kneeling in his chair and hunched over a large map of the Continent spread out on the table. “Lucy, come help me find Evora. What country should I even start searching?”
Without blinking, Lucy replied, “Portugal.” She settled into her chair, and a footman placed a pot of hot tea in front of her.
“Are you familiar with the location, Lady Lucy?” Blake rose and sauntered over to the sideboard. He piled eggs, sausage, and toast on a plate, skipping over the kippers. As he set the plate before Lucy, he grinned and in a light tone imparted, “I hope all is to your liking.”
He turned to return to the sideboard, and his hand casually brushed the back of her neck. An intense shock went through her all the way to her toes. Had he touched her intentionally?
“Well, Lucy, how did you know Evora was in Portugal?” Edward questioned.
Matthew ambled into the room as if he hadn’t been up already for hours and casually stated, “Lucy has always excelled in geography.”
Matthew joined Blake by the sideboard. After both men had piled enough food to feed an army on their plates, they returned to take their seats. Each eyed the other before eating. How were they communicating without words? She often could anticipate Matthew’s thoughts, but they were twins. Blake wasn’t even related by blood.
Lucy placed her hand on the spot on her neck where his hand had brushed up against her only moments ago. She was curious to see if he was as unaffected by their brief touch as he appeared. Only the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he glanced at her belied his remarkably calm demeanor. But what had he felt? An electric jolt? Tingling sensations?
Secrets of Lady Lucy Page 8