“Mama,” Luci sighed, her eyes drifting closed once more, desperately needing to be a child again, to go back to before her mother was broken—or maybe it was just before her children noticed how injured and beaten down she was.
“Yes, my fox.” Her mother set the brush aside and stared into the dressing table mirror as Luci’s eyes fluttered open.
Smiling, Luci said, “You haven’t called me that in years.”
“I haven’t felt the need to remind you of your wit, your cunning, and your intelligence for some time.” Her mother sighed, and she appeared far older, if not wiser, than her thirty-seven years. “You are able to see through deception and take swift action to change any situation. You are very brave, my fox.”
“This may be beyond my control, Mama.” Luci reached up and grasped her mother’s hands that hovered directly over her shoulders. “I fear Father is not one to be trifled with, especially when he believes this match will benefit his many business ventures.”
The marchioness clicked her teeth and shook her head. “I have long thought you would be the one to rescue us all from your father’s domineering, cruel ways. Especially with your secretive activities since Tilda’s death—”
“You know, Mama?” Suddenly, Luci had to see her mother’s eyes, know if her mother detested Lucianna’s means for handling the unsavory man in their lives.
“I was uncertain, at first, but then, after the night your father brought his mistress to that ball, well…“ Her mother focused once more on her task of brushing Luci’s hair. “When the Gazette soundly thumped your father, I knew you had had a hand in the deed. And while I said nothing, inwardly, I cheered your spirit and your bravery for calling out the man.” She went silent for a moment, and Luci’s heart skipped a beat. It was the first time, in many years, Luci felt she had an ally in her home instead of more people to protect. “You will save us all, I have no doubt.”
It was much to ask of a mere slip of a girl, barely venturing into womanhood; however, Luci never wanted to let her mother down. She feared that if she did, the woman would lose all hope for her future and that of her younger offspring if left solely to the devices and whims of Lord Camden.
There was so much pressure in her mother’s few words.
Lady Lucianna was to be her mother’s only hope for survival.
Her chin lowered as she pondered the greatness her family expected of her. Anger raced up her spine to think everyone seemed to believe it was her responsibility to prove Abercorn had killed Tilda, to stop her father’s overreaching abuse of his family, and to find a way to stop her betrothal to Abercorn.
She was only nineteen. She’d never been outside of England, and even more rarely away from London proper. How could anyone think her strong enough, witty enough, cunning enough, to do anything to help them—let alone drastically alter her own life’s path.
“Mama,” Luci asked, pressing her mother’s hand to her cheek. “When did you decide to give up, allow Father the reins, and step back into the shadows?”
She knew from the tears brimming in her mother’s eyes that she’d hurt her, but still, the question hung in the air. “I have never given up, Lucianna.”
“But Father does whatever he wants. He parades around one mistress after another, rarely accompanies us to societal gatherings, and we hear him shouting at you when you think we are all fast asleep.”
Luci watched as a small smile spread across her mother’s face, making her appear not much older than Luci herself. “I think you have the wrong impression, my little fox.”
“How?”
“He parades around his mistresses because I give him leave to. He decided early in our marriage he was not cut out to be the husband I desired, and so, he’s lived all these years without me by his side.”
“That is your choice?” Luci was shocked, stunned almost into silence. “Does it not hurt to see him showing off his mistresses?”
“At first, certainly.” The marchioness sighed. “I thought, ‘what have I done? I pushed my husband away because I could not bring myself to accept him for the man he is.’ Over time, this did not concern me because I have always had the task of raising you and your siblings in proper fashion.”
Luci doubted she knew her mother at all.
If one did not know their own flesh and blood, what would keep her from doubting every person she met and the society she’d been born into?
“Your brothers will grow to be kind, compassionate, humorous, loving, and loyal men. It is sad it took your father’s disloyalty to his family to show Matthew and Derek all the things they did not want to be.”
“What of Candace and me?” Luci asked. “Are we growing and learning in your image?”
“Heavens no, my child.” The marchioness came around and sat next to Luci on the bench. “I have raised the pair of you to be independent. Taught you to make your own decisions. Never fear risk—or the rewards that might come from it. Oh, and most importantly, I’ve taught you both to never allow a man like your father to dictate your life. Lucianna, use your cunning and your wit to take hold of your fate.” She squeezed her daughter’s hands.
“And what happens when I am gone?” Luci sighed. “You, Candace, and the boys will be alone against that monster.”
Her mother’s chuckle was infused with a deep hurt, driving Luci to apologize, but her mother held up her hand to silence her. “You cannot worry about us. Your brothers will leave for University before long, and Candace still has many lessons to learn, but I will endeavor to keep her away from your father.”
“And you?” Luci looked into her mother’s deep green eyes, so much like hers though they held an exhaustion Luci hadn’t noticed.
“I will continue as I always have, loving the man I married and praying every day he returns to the kind, honorable lord I was proud to wed all those years ago.”
Had her mother had a plan all this time?
An ache settled deep in Luci’s chest at the thought that her mother had known her goal all along but had not thought enough of her daughter to share. Luci could not believe that to be true.
“He is a horrible man, but you still love him.” Luci leaned her cheek on her mother’s shoulder. “That is—“
“The place that hope begins, draws strength.”
“How can you be so certain he will return to the man you married?” Luci begged.
“I am certain of nothing except where my own heart lies. And that is with your father.”
“Even if he does horrid things? Even when his temper gets the best of him? Even when he demands your daughter wed an unsavory, dishonorable man?”
“Just because the Marquis of Camden demands something does not mean it is to be.”
A rattle at her terrace sounded, pulling Luci’s attention from her mother to the windowpaned French doors leading onto her private veranda overlooking the street below.
“Did you hear that?” Luci asked.
Her mother tilted her head and listened, just as another round of rattling assaulted her panes.
She shook her head. “No, I am sorry. I do not hear a thing. However, I will request that Charlotte and the housekeeper allow you to rest. Someone will be by later this evening to stoke the fire.”
The women stood and embraced. How long had it been since she’d set her arms around her mother and pulled her close? She’d half expected to find the older woman’s shoulders gaunt and bony, as if she wasted away due to neglect, but her mother’s shoulders were as solid as Luci remembered them.
Another handful of pebbles clattered along the veranda and hit the window.
“Are you certain you hear nothing?”
Her mother smirked before pecking Luci on the cheek and turning to leave. “Have a restful night, my little fox. Do not forget, a fox always knows their way, even in the dead of night.”
Luci swore she heard her mother chuckle as she closed the door to her daughter’s room.
Pushing her waist-length black hair over her shoulder, Lu
ci hurried to the door and turned the lock before facing the unmistakable sound coming from her veranda.
Her heart thumped nearly out of her chest as another spray assaulted the window.
For only a brief moment, Luci considered fleeing her room and calling for a footman to explore where the noise had come from.
Even with that plan still solidly in mind, Luci moved toward the French doors and reached for the latch.
Chapter 17
Roderick huffed, tossing yet another handful of pebbles toward the lit window above. His head pounded relentlessly following his meeting with Camden and Abercorn. His arm ached from throwing so many bloody rocks at Lady Lucianna’s veranda. And blast it all, he was sick and tired of the pitying looks from Torrington, Lady Ophelia, and Lady Edith. To make matters worse—much, much worse—at some point, Torrington’s younger sisters had joined the party.
Lady Chastity and Lady Prudence were agreeable enough young women; however, they talked a lot. They spoke of never having met Roderick before. They spoke of Lady Edith’s grand ball. They chattered on about Lady Ophelia’s new hairstyle.
The veranda they all stood on was large, yet the group’s combined excitement seemed to reduce the area to that of a confined, closed carriage.
Giving Roderick little time to ponder his next move—and there had to be a next move, and fast. His blood boiled at the thought of the alternative…
Lord Camden had settled on the Duke of Abercorn as the best marriage prospect for Lucianna.
He hadn’t even entertained any additional offer from Roderick.
Lucianna’s fate had been secured and signed before Roderick could ask for a drink. His interest had all been for show, to push Abercorn to offer more and make more business agreements to have Lucianna as wife.
Bloody hell, but that was not the end of things.
Lucianna deserved far more than to be bartered like an old boat in jeopardy of capsizing due to her hellion tendencies and disagreeable nature.
She was not disagreeable, only adamant against the misdeeds of others.
She deserved to be cherished and loved. She deserved a home and a family of her own. She deserved to never fear the man she was wed to.
Roderick was unsure if he could give her everything she ought to have, but right now, at this moment, he was the best option for her.
“Mayhap if you aimed a bit higher, Your Grace,” Ophelia said, mimicking her improved throwing style. “The pebbles are certain to hit the window then.”
“What if she isn’t in her room?” he asked, worried the auburn-haired nymph had used up her daily supply of words.
“Then Pru and I will go to the door and knock,” Lady Chastity offered.
It struck Roderick as odd a woman he’d met less than an hour before would risk anything to help him gain a word with Lucianna.
“Shhhh,” Edith swiped at the air. “I think I heard the latch unlock.”
“Oh, the door is opening,” Pru and Chastity said in unison, clapping their hands.
“Do quiet that noise.” Torrington turned a scowl on his sisters, but it vanished quickly. “It might not be Lady Lucianna who steps out—and we will all need move quickly to hide.”
“Who—who—who—” Lucianna’s normally deep, confident tone echoed down from above. “Who is it?”
Roderick stepped from the shadows at the tree line and into the pool of moonlight below her veranda. They’d arrived when it was still light outside, but the day had passed to twilight as they’d bided their time.
He despised hearing the fright in her tone.
“It is I, Lady Lucianna.”
“The grim reaper!” At Luci’s sharp inhale, Ophelia elbowed Edith, and the two fell into a fit of giggles.
“Montrose, Edith, Ophelia?” She moved farther onto the veranda to look over the edge and see them all standing below. “What in heaven’s name are you all doing here?”
“We are here, too!” Lady Chastity chimed in, not one to be left out. “Pru and I.”
“Again, what are you all doing here? My father deposited me at home and returned to the duke’s residence. He should return shortly,” she sighed. “He will find you.”
“With luck, he will find none of us.” Montrose moved around to the stone steps leading up to Lucianna’s private veranda. He took the stairs two at a time and was standing before her in an instant.
She was gowned in a fine nightshift of pure white—all innocence, only broken by the waves of onyx hair that hung clear past her waist. Her toes peeked from beneath her night rail, blessedly bare. She was everything Roderick knew her to be—except her chin no longer tilted upward slightly, and her shoulders sagged.
“My lady,” Montrose croaked. She was far more beautiful than he remembered, but he loathed her air of sorrow. “I am here.”
“Shall I assume my father officially gave Abercorn leave to announce our betrothal?” Lucianna sobbed, a deep, heart-wrenching cry.
Every emotion from the long day drained from him at her cry; anger, fury, desperation, longing, and hurt—he could not grasp and hold onto a single one. His resolve shook, barely holding together.
“What your father says means naught to us,” he soothed, running his hand down her back before pulling her close. “I have a plan—with the help of your friends.”
“What? We will just run off to Gretna Green and be wed in disgrace?” She cringed at the word, knowing she’d brought the term down on his head. “My father will likely expect that move and send a group of servants to catch us before we reach the border.”
“There are other ways.” His mind swirled, trying to land on another option for them, but he could only think of Lucianna in his arms—and keeping her there. “We will find another way.”
“Or mayhap it would be best to return to my chambers and await my father’s decree that will solidify my future.” She pulled away slightly as if to do just that.
But Roderick had her in his embrace, and it would take far more than the Marquis of Camden to take the woman he loved from him.
He stiffened.
The woman he loved?
Blast it all, but he did love her.
It had been many years since he’d experienced anything resembling love, and never a love like this. Yes, he’d loved and adored his mother. He’d respected and loved his father.
But never had he dreamt of loving a woman, especially a female as deserving of love as Lady Lucianna.
There would be no compromise. She belonged to him, as his heart belonged to her.
Never again would he allow her to entertain the notion that she might be forced to wed Abercorn.
“Lucianna, I love you,” he said as he kissed her forehead.
“Love makes wise people do foolish things.” She pulled back to look up at him.
Her eyes were clouded with confusion, yet Roderick didn’t feel confused at all. He set his hands against her cold cheeks. “And it makes a foolish person do wise things. Like finding the woman they love and holding on, no matter what consequences lay ahead.”
“Can it be so simple?” she asked.
A shiver ran through her, and her teeth chattered.
Roderick hadn’t thought about how chilled the evening had grown, especially with Lucianna gowned in nothing but a thin nightshift. “Let us return inside, and I will show you.”
In her chambers, he would have all night to convince her that finding love and holding onto it was just that simple, as long as she felt the same.
But first, he needs must share with her the rest of his sordid past. She needed to know everything before she decided to thwart her father.
Even Roderick had enough integrity to discourage allowing a woman to fall in love with him until she knew the whole truth.
Taking her hand, Roderick turned toward her open veranda door and the warmth that certainly lay within. Surprisingly, she followed without resistance. If she hadn’t, he’d been prepared to sweep her off her feet and carry her back to the heated bedc
hambers.
Chapter 18
Lucianna allowed Roderick to guide her back into her bedchambers as she walked on shaky legs. She still held out hope that her father cared about what she wanted for her own future, but when Roderick—with all her friends in tow—had shown up below her veranda, she more than suspected that her father had chosen Abercorn to be her husband.
She’d been mastered, conquered, and bested by the one man who should care most for her. To know the man she’d grown up trying to impress, the man Luci currently did her best to emulate, didn’t care a whit for her…hurt. Her father didn’t bother himself with grandiose thoughts of love, devotion, commitment, and friendship.
Her head spun when she lowered her chin to hide her feelings.
The Marquis of Camden did not have those things in his marriage, and so, he did not think it of value to his daughter.
Well, the marquis was gravely wrong.
Those were the qualities Luci searched for in not only her future husband but also her friends.
She and Roderick stood before her hearth, facing the flames, their fingers entwined; everything and everyone receding as she could only see him.
This was exactly how Luci saw herself with her husband: at peace, trusting one another, and forever entwined.
She wanted not only their fingers intertwined but also their minds, bodies, and souls.
So fused together people around them wondered how had they achieved such elevated love.
It would never be about one dominating the other—not with she and Roderick. Never would they make the other feel insignificant, unheard, or unwanted.
“Roderick,” she gulped. When he looked down at her, his normally intense blue eyes were a meadow of blue blossoms, welcoming and inviting. “I am ready to see what simple looks like. Show me?”
He needed no other encouragement. Roderick swept her into his arms and crossed the room to her lilac fabric-covered bed and pushed aside the white, eyelet drapes.
The feeling of her of bed coverlet against her back had never been so soft or welcoming. In fact, she’d always seen the room as childish, but with Roderick’s dark presence in the small space, the room took on an entirely new feel. The lilac and deep violet were exotic hues—begging for the couple’s weight.
The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna (The Undaunted Debutantes Book 2) Page 13