A Season of Romance

by Wendy Soliman

  Lucy had spent a busy morning at Orchard Street, helping Grace to re-arrange her living quarters and putting up new curtains. It was early afternoon when they finished and Lucy arrived back at Portman Square just as Verity arrived in Lady Winterstoke’s open carriage, inviting her to come for a drive.

  Lucy accepted gratefully and, knowing Lady Quidenham would not want her presence, she immediately took her place beside Verity in the barouche. She had barely made herself comfortable when Verity announced that she was leaving Town.

  ‘Mama wishes to return to Claversham and Darius has offered to come with us,’ she told Lucy as they drove through the park gates. ‘We leave in the morning.’

  ‘So soon?’ exclaimed Lucy. ‘I shall miss you.’

  ‘And I you.’ Verity reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘It has only just been decided and I came as soon as I could to tell you. Darius did suggest that Mama should invite you to join us and I thought she might agree, now she knows you are not going to supplant Darius in Lady Quidenham’s will, but she has taken the business with your cousin very hard. It does no good for Grandmama to say some of our own relations are far more disreputable than Miss Bower, she will not be moved.’

  ‘That was very good of your brother to try,’ murmured Lucy, the heat stealing into her cheeks. ‘However, you know I have other plans.’

  ‘Which you are keeping very much to yourself! I wish you will tell me where you are going, if it is not to Brighton with Lady Quidenham.’

  ‘I shall write to you, when I am settled.’ said Lucy, trying to sound cheerful and confident.

  ‘Yes, you must,’ Verity declared. ‘I want to know all about your new life.’

  ‘And so you shall.’

  Lucy turned away, showing a spurious interest in the passing crowds. She would have to be very imaginative in her letters. Any lodgings she might find in Little Furzewell would be a far cry from Quidenham House.

  But she would not complain. She had enjoyed a season in Town, Morry showed every sign of enjoying her new post as Aunt Evadne’s companion and Grace was happily married. As for Lucy herself, the dividends on her money would help, of course, and she thought she might offer to help Mrs Groves with her dame school to bring in a few extra pennies. If she was careful, and practised strict economy, she thought she might live comfortably enough.

  When Miss Claversham delivered Lucia back to Portman Square, they parted with many hugs and promises to keep in touch. Lucy ran into the house to find a letter waiting for her from her friends in Little Furzewell. It contained a list of accommodation currently available in the village but her hopes sank when she perused the details. Rents for the houses were all more than she could afford, and the only lodgings did not sound at all suitable.

  A tiny worm of desperation began to gnaw at her insides but she resolutely fought it down. She would write again, and perhaps look further afield. She would not be defeated. Indeed, she had no choice but to continue her search!

  As she heard the chimes of the clock, she put aside her letter and scrambled into her dress before hurrying to the drawing room, arriving a little breathless just as Aston announced that dinner was ready. The three ladies took their places at the dining table and even with her own worries, Lucia could not help but see that her aunt was preoccupied and unusually taciturn.

  ‘Are you feeling ill, ma’am?’ she asked, glancing from the dowager to Miss Morrison. ‘Has anything occurred today to overset you?’

  ‘I am quite well.’ Lady Quidenham stabbed at her food. ‘But having brought forward my departure from this house, I have discovered that there are several matters here that will not be concluded before I go. The Viscount and his family will be touring the Continent for several months yet and this house must be shut up. Then there is the remainder of my luggage to be sent to the Dower House in readiness for my return in the autumn.

  ‘Aston will be accompanying me to Brighton, and I do not trust any other servant to deal with this. Thus, I have decided I will allow you to remain here for two more weeks to oversee all the arrangements, if you wish.’

  ‘Why, yes, ma’am. I should be glad to do so.’

  She smiled but the dowager did not look at her. She continued in her usual, brusque tone.

  ‘I am not one for soft words, Lucia. I still say you have used me very ill, but I recognise that I have an obligation to you.’

  ‘No, indeed, ma’am. It is I who –’

  ‘Do not contradict me!’

  The dowager’s knife clattered on to her plate. She glared at Lucy for a moment, then picked up the knife and began to cut up her food, talking all the time.

  ‘There is a cottage in the grounds of the Dower House estate. A small place, but clean and in good order. I shall make it over to you, a deed of gift, or some such.’

  Relief and surprise in equal measure washed over Lucy.

  ‘That is exceedingly kind of you, Aunt Evadne.’

  ‘I am never kind,’ came the sharp reply. ‘I am merely repaying a debt. Now, let us say no more about it and get on with our dinner!’

  Lucy exchanged a smile with Miss Morrison, but she said no more.

  *

  June rolled on into July and Lady Quidenham and her entourage left for Brighton. The house in Portman Square was very quiet with only Lucy and the London staff remaining. Invitations had dwindled since the revelation of her connection with Orchard Gowns, although one or two acquaintances still requested her company, but Lucy had no desire to go out.

  She busied herself around the house, arranging for Lady Quidenham’s belongings to be taken back to the Dower House and packing up her own clothes. As she sorted through the assortment of morning robes, ball gowns and evening dresses, she wondered if she should sell some of them. She could not foresee that she would have an opportunity to wear them again but in the end she carefully packed them away. They held so many memories that she could not bring herself to part with them. Not yet.

  Lucy received her first letter from Miss Morrison a week later. She was busy throwing Holland covers over the morning room furniture when the post arrived but she had been longing all morning to go out into the sunshine, so she removed the apron that was protecting her cream muslin gown with its jonquil sprigs and carried the letter out of doors. She walked across to the garden in the centre of the square and sat down on a bench to read.

  The letter began unsurprisingly enough with a description of their journey, the house on Marine Parade and the bustling nature of Brighton society.

  Many of Lady Q’s acquaintances from Town are here and invitations arrive by each post. My lady grumbles (you know her way, Lucia!) but I think she is secretly pleased and she has not declined a single one!

  Lucy raised her face to the sun and gave a little chuckle. ‘How like my aunt!’

  She returned her eyes to the page to read on but almost immediately she gave a gasp.

  My dear, you will never guess who was our first visitor in Marine Parade. Mr Theale! I was never more shocked, but it appears he wrote to Lady Q, following their meeting at the Royal Institution and they have been corresponding ever since. He says that he had always intended to come to Brighton, but it is my belief that he followed Lady Q here! He has called several times since, and we have not yet been here a se’ennight. I think, my dear Lucia, this is a reconciliation, and although your aunt will not admit it, this must be thanks to you.

  She was obliged to go back and read the paragraph again before she could believe it. Was this the debt Aunt Evadne was repaying? She had assumed it was her actions in persuading the dowager to reinstate Fixby.

  Lucy felt some of the weight lift from her spirits. Perhaps Aunt Evadne was not quite so angry with her after all. She closed her eyes. How wonderful if the dowager and Linus Theale could be friends again. Even more wonderful if they found they still loved one another!

  She felt a sudden stab of loneliness as her thoughts drifted far away from Morry, Aunt Evadne and Brighton. She heaved a sigh and stared dow
n at the path beneath her feet, thinking of the lonely future that stretched ahead of her.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’

  For a moment, when she heard the rich, deep voice, she thought it was her imagination. That she had conjured him by wishful thinking. But no, Sir Darius was striding towards her, dressed in his riding jacket and buckskins, his riding crop clutched in one hand.

  ‘I received a note from Lady Quidenham, asking me to call,’ he told her, a faint crease in his brow. ‘Yet when I arrived, I was informed she has left Town.’

  ‘Yes, she has gone to Brighton. I thought you were at Claversham.’

  ‘I was. The dowager’s note said it was imperative I call this week, if I was to learn something to my advantage.’

  ‘How strange.’ Lucy waved her own letter. ‘They are most definitely in Brighton. Miss Morrison has written to tell me how much they are enjoying themselves.’

  He sat down beside her. ‘And what has she said to make you so unhappy?’

  ‘I am not unhappy!’

  ‘When I first saw you here I had the impression you were quite dejected.’

  She sat up a little straighter. ‘Nonsense. I was merely thinking how, how well everything has turned out. You know, of course, that my cousin and Mr Chawton are married? He is determined to help her improve her business.’ She must think of others, rather than her own concerns. ‘Orchard Gowns is already doing very well. Grace told me only yesterday that she has received enquiries for a winter collection and is even now looking for new muslins to sell in the spring!’

  ‘Good news for your cousin, then.’ He sat down beside her, saying gently, ‘But that is not what you had planned is it? You intended that you and your cousin and Miss Morrison should set up home together, on the proceeds from the business.’

  ‘Yes, at first, but – ‘

  ‘Your cousin has married and Miss Morrison is now bosom friends with Lady Quidenham and has gone off to Brighton with her. Which leaves you all alone.’

  ‘You make that sound like a bad thing,’ she told him crossly. ‘I assure you I am most happy at how it has all turned out. And I am not to be pitied, you know. My aunt is giving me a cottage. A place of my own.’

  ‘Where you will dwindle into genteel old age! Oh, Lucy, Lucy, it does not have to be like that!’

  ‘Please!’ she interrupted him, unable to keep a tremor from her voice. ‘Please, do not say anything more. I have been treated more kindly than I deserve. I imposed myself upon my aunt, and indeed upon society, most shamefully. I can only be thankful now that my foolish Grand Plan did not ruin us all!’

  He took her hands. ‘Your Grand Plan was commendable in many ways. Indeed, it has proved very successful for your cousin, and for my aunt, too. She was very lonely before you erupted into her life, now she is more like her old self and has a great deal to occupy her, plus a kindly companion whom she may tease and bully to her heart’s content! You must not think too hardly of yourself, my dear.’

  ‘Thank you. That is very kind.’

  ‘It is no more than the truth, Lucy.’

  She sighed. ‘I would very much like to believe it.’ She gave him a watery smile. ‘Will you believe me when I say I am very glad you came, even if it was a misunderstanding? I am very sorry you have had a wasted journey. I have no idea of what my aunt thought you might find here to your advantage.’ She wiped her eyes, then stared at the little lacy confection. ‘Unless she wanted you to collect your two handkerchiefs, although how she knew they were amongst the clean laundry I do not know!’

  ‘I do not think that is what she meant at all,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘She knew I would find you here alone, and I think she hoped, like me, that you would reconsider my offer.’ In one lithe movement he slipped to his knees. ‘Dearest Lucy. I know it is not the outcome you wanted from your one season in Town, but do you think you might say yes and marry me? I love you very much, you know.’

  ‘Oh,’ she blinked rapidly as tears welled in her eyes. ‘Oh, Darius, how can say that, when I have been so, so odious to you! I accused you of breaking a confidence, when it was Fixby who gave me away, and you n-never let me thank you for s-saving me from Sir Henry’s unwanted attentions!’

  ‘All that is irrelevant now. The only thing that matters is, do you love me enough to marry me?’

  She blinked again to clear her eyes that she might look at his dear face as he gazed so anxiously at her.

  ‘Oh yes, yes I do,’ she whispered. ‘And I will marry you, if you think I might make you happy.’

  With a laugh he jumped to his feet.

  ‘Happy!’ He dragged her up into his arms. ‘My dearest, darling Lucy, the truth is I do not think I can live without you!’

  With a sigh she melted against him.

  ‘But I am not at all easy to live with,’ she murmured, clutching happily at his coat. ‘I have quite a temper, you know, and I am not at all biddable.’

  His arms tightened. ‘I am sure you will infuriate me with your plans and schemes, and I have no doubt that we shall quarrel quite royally at times, but just think how wonderful it will be when we are reconciled with a kiss.’ He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up towards him ‘In fact, let us put it to the test, right now.’

  On such a lovely summer’s day, it was only to be expected that at least some of Portman Square’s residents would enjoy a stroll in the central garden. The sight of Lady Quidenham’s niece locked in a passionate embrace with a celebrated Corinthian caused one governess to turn tail and hurry her giggling charges away. An elderly couple, strolling past arm-in-arm, were inclined to view the scene more tolerantly but the two matrons who passed some moments later were scandalised and their outraged tuts made Sir Darius break off his kiss.

  ‘Oh dear, that is our near neighbour, Mrs Atwood and her gossiping crony Lady Musselburgh.’ Lucy giggled as she turned her face into his shoulder. ‘I am now quite sunk beneath reproach.’

  ‘You are indeed, my love. Which is why you must marry me immediately, to save your reputation.’

  He planted a trail of kisses down her neck and she shivered with delight, but with a little sigh she put her hands against his chest and held him away.

  ‘I would like that very much, Darius, but what about your Mama? She positively dislikes me!’

  ‘I have already thought of that,’ came the prompt reply. ‘I shall tell her I am marrying you in order to secure Lady Quidenham’s fortune.’

  ‘Of course! How clever of you, Darius.’

  ‘You see,’ he said, pulling her back into his arms, ‘you are not the only one to formulate Grand Plans, Lucia. Now stop making foolish objections and kiss me again!’

  ***The End***

  After many years in the inspiring surroundings of the Yorkshire Pennines, Melinda Hammond has run away to the Highlands of Scotland to live by the sea, where she continues to write her romantic adventures. She also writes as Sarah Mallory for Harlequin Mills & Boon

  To find more about Melinda Hammond and her books

  please visit her author page on Amazon

  or visit her website at

  www.melindahammond.com