by Alec, Joyce
“I do apologize for the intrusion,” the man said, not making any sign of leaving. “But I have noticed that you seem to be in some distress. Can I assist you in any way?”
“Not unless you can prevent my father’s dictates from being enforced, no,” Lucy replied before she could stop herself. “Please, do not let me bother you.”
“It is of no trouble,” he responded, gesturing to another bench to her left. “May I?”
She hesitated, still unable to see his face in the darkness. Her nerves jangled as a loud warning sounded in her mind that she absolutely should not be ensconced with a gentleman in a garden arbor, no matter how kind he appeared.
“You are reticent, of course,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “How rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Lord Caldwell.
Lucy’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Why are you not enjoying the ball? Won’t your parents be searching for you?”
Lord Caldwell sat down carefully, and the bench groaned loudly. “I needed some fresh air. My mother is currently enjoying the ball, but my father, the Marquess of Blackinstore, has gone to Paris on business of some sort. first son of.”
Lucy nodded into the darkness, thinking hard. Any man with such a title could be one of two characters: either they went out of their way to throw their wealth and title around, treating others entirely abysmally, or they took their responsibilities seriously and spent their years working hard so that they might one day be ready to take on their father’s title.
As of yet, Lucy did not know which character Lord Caldwell might be, although his voice was warm and friendly, which gave her some hope that he might be the latter. “I am Lady Lucy Donoghue,” she said heavily. “Daughter of the Earl of Withington.”
He inclined his head. “How very nice to meet you, Lady Lucy Donoghue.” A momentary pause left them in silence. “Might I ask what has upset you so?”
She let out a harsh laugh. “You may well ask, Lord Caldwell, but given that there is nothing you can do, then I see very little point in discussing it.”
“It might help lift your spirits somewhat,” he responded.
Letting out another sigh, Lucy stifled a sob and, instead, cleared her throat. “You are a gentleman, and titled at that, so I do not think you will be able to understand the quandary in which I find myself.”
“Ah.”
“You may marry whomever you choose,” she continued bitterly. “As for me, my path is set.” Brushing moisture from her lashes, Lucy tried not to give into the fresh tears that threatened to overwhelm her once more.
“Your parents have chosen your fiancé, then?”
“Sadly, yes. Although, I have not been introduced to the man yet, nor been told of their intentions. I was lucky enough to overhear them.”
“And you are hiding from them,” Lord Caldwell finished thoughtfully. “A wise choice, Lady Lucy.”
Hearing the slight humor in his tone, Lucy bristled. “I did not expect you to understand, Lord Caldwell,” she snapped, emphasizing his title so that he would not forget her earlier point. “Why don’t you return to the ball if my situation causes you such humor?”
Anger coursed through her veins, making her tremble with frustration. Why had she spoken to him? Was it simply because she had no one else to talk to, or because he had appeared to be kind? Irritated with herself, Lucy closed her eyes tightly, aware that she should not have revealed a single piece of her situation to a stranger.
“Is your betrothed so terrible?” the gentleman softly asked. “Surely the daughter of an earl will be wed to a fine, upstanding gentleman. I have heard of your father and know of his reputation within society. I doubt he would throw you away on some undeserving—”
“I am to be wed to Lord Hutton,” Lucy cut him off through clenched teeth. “Something about helping my father with a partnership of sorts.” She waited for Lord Caldwell’s jovial response, but received none. The seconds ticked by slowly, the atmosphere suddenly growing tense.
Without warning, the gentleman got to his feet, pacing across the arbor. “You cannot mean the elder Lord Hutton?” he asked, his voice growing louder with each word. “But his son is recently married, is he not?”
“I was not aware he had a son,” Lucy said quietly. “So yes, I do mean the elder.”
Lord Caldwell paused in his steps, turning to face her, although she could still not make out his features. “But that is quite ridiculous!”
“I am glad you think so,” Lucy told him. “I am also glad that you no longer laugh at me.”
“That is because I can understand your distress!” he exclaimed, walking over to her. “Why your parents are insisting on such a thing, I cannot understand.”
Lucy let out a harsh laugh, knowing exactly why her parents had chosen this course of action. “I am not the daughter they wish for, Lord Caldwell. I much prefer books and the expanding of my mind to practicing the pianoforte or learning the latest gossips that visit my home. In short, they have given up on me, and so have decided that I should be taken off their hands in the easiest way possible.” Pressing her hand to her brow, Lucy winced as pain sliced through her heart once more. “It seems I am nothing but a commodity, useful for bartering and trading and securing my father’s partnership.”
Lord Caldwell said nothing, simply stared down at her for a long moment. She managed to glance up at him, her vision blurry with unshed tears, managing to make out his features somewhat. Blinking hard, she took in his dark hair, the way his lips were drawn into an angry line. She could not tell what color his eyes were, only that they were focused entirely on her. He appeared to be tall with broad shoulders, every inch the gentleman.
“You appear upset, Lord Caldwell,” she said eventually. “I assure you, there is no need to be so on my behalf. You have enough troubles of your own, I am quite sure.”
“That is true,” he said quietly, coming to sit beside her.
Astonished, she made to move away, only for him to grasp her hand in his gloved one.
“I mean you no harm, Lady Lucy,” he continued. “Please, do not run from me. I might, in fact, have something of a solution for you.”
Lucy found herself unable to take her hand from his, the warmth of his body soaking into her chilled limbs. Instead of running, she turned her head to look into his eyes, taking in his serious expression.
“You are not funning me, I hope, Lord Caldwell,” she warned. “I have no idea what possesses you to offer to help me, but in truth, I have no other options available to me.”
“No, I am not funning you in the least,” he replied. “I have had dealings with Lord Hutton in the past and will do anything in my power to keep you from him.”
Lucy let out a long breath, knowing she had to at least listen to him. “Well then, Lord Caldwell. What is it you suggest?”
3
Lord Caldwell cleared his throat. “My mother is also pressing me to wed soon,” he said slowly. “As of yet, she has not picked any lady in particular, but I fear it will not be long.”
“Someday the title of marquess will be yours,” Lucy said with a roll of her eyes she was sure he could not see. “Of course she wants you to wed! You will need to produce an heir.” Heavy irony lined her voice, as she once more grew inwardly weary with society and its heavy dictates.
“You are correct,” he replied without a trace of humor. “But I find myself not quite ready to enter such a state. Perhaps, with both of our situations, there might be one easy solution.”
“Such as?” Lucy asked, struggling to see where he might be coming from. “I cannot see any—”
“We become betrothed.”
His words shocked her, dragging her breath from her body. She stared at him, breaking into laughter. “You cannot be serious.”
“Of course I am,” he said, sounding a little affronted.
“And what should we do when the time comes for us to wed?” she questioned, thinking this was possibly the most ridiculous suggestion she had ever hear
d. “I will not lose my reputation over a broken engagement.”
He did not answer for a moment. “If you are forced to marry Lord Hutton, then you will have no reputation to worry about.”
Lucy closed her eyes as his blunt words hit her square in the chest.
“You may break the engagement, Lady Lucy, and I shall take full responsibility.”
“And what exactly will you say?” Lucy found herself asking, faintly. She could not understand why she was already so willing to consider this, but she had to admit that he was quite right. She would have no reputation to speak of if she was married to Lord Hutton.
“I will say some such thing about a mistress, fueling rumors and the like. I am sure you will have the ton on your side, full of sympathy for you, whereas, hopefully, the rumors will push any willing lady from my side for another good few months. Besides, I hold the honorary title of earl, and one day I will inherit my father’s title and fortune. Your parents should be pleased with the decision. All in all, I think it will work out well.”
Lucy shook her head. “But nothing will stop Lord Hutton from wedding me once our engagement is at an end. The problem remains.”
Lord Caldwell chuckled. “I can see that you are right, but it will, at least, give you some time to consider what else you can to do extricate yourself from his grip.” He leaned forward, and Lucy felt her breath catch in her chest. “If you do not agree, and it is entirely up to you whether you do so or not, you must steel yourself for what will happen the moment you step back into the ballroom.”
Lucy did not need to ask what he meant, knowing that her parents would have Lord Hutton introduced to her almost immediately. He would then take her to the dance floor, dance at least two dances—if not three, which would then ensure that all of the society knew there was an attachment between them. She would not be able to refuse without making a scene, bringing shame to both herself and her parents.
“I… I cannot see any other way,” she said softly. Her mind was scrambling to think clearly, but she simply could not even begin to think of any other solution. “Though this is quite ridiculous, Lord Caldwell,” she said, a little more strongly. “I have not even seen your face, and now we are to be apparently engaged?”
“Well,” he answered, getting to his feet. “There is one easy solution to that particular predicament. Shall we walk in the gardens?”
Lucy swallowed and rose, suddenly very aware of the man’s height. He waited for her, taking the crook of her elbow in his gloved hand to lead her back into the gardens.
“So,” he said as they came to a lantern. “What do you think of me now, Lady Lucy? I am not, perhaps, the most attractive gentleman of your acquaintance, but I hope I will do.”
She lifted her face and looked up at him, and fire burst through her veins immediately.
Lord Caldwell was a very handsome gentleman. She had not expected to see such a kind face looking back at her, a gentle smile curving his lips whilst mirth twinkled in his eyes. His dark hair was neatly styled and there was not a trace of stubble on his firm jaw. For a moment, Lucy was robbed of speech, becoming aware that her lips were parted in a most unladylike manner
“You will do, of course, Lord Caldwell,” she replied, closing her mouth with a snap.
“And you are more than acceptable,” he said, bowing. “Quite stunning, if I may say so. I must confess myself surprised that you have been passed over.”
She took his proffered arm and began to walk back towards the house. “You forget that a bluestocking is singularly unattractive,” she murmured, warmth settling in her core. “Are you sure you are aware of what it is you are letting yourself in for, my lord?”
His chest rumbled. “I look forward to our many conversations,” he responded quietly. “Now, shall we find your parents and let them know of our happy news?”
Lucy swallowed and nodded, her mouth going dry at the thought of introducing the man to her parents. They were either going to be remarkably pleased or incredibly put out, their plan to engage her to Lord Hutton dead in the water. Her parents would not refuse him, of course, given that his title was greater than that of Lord Hutton, but she was already anticipating the displeasure in her father’s eyes. This would ruin his plan for a partnership, after all.
“How shall we do it?” she asked, breathlessly. “After all, we have not exactly been seen in one another’s company.”
Stopping in his tracks, Lord Caldwell turned and smiled at her, making her heart jolt at once. “Do your parents often see you in company at balls?”
She shook her head. “In truth, they very often leave me alone.” She managed a strangled laugh. “I believe they have given up on me.”
Lord Caldwell’s smile widened. “Then we shall simply say that we have had a few conversations over the last few weeks and have, this night, decided that we will suit very well together.”
Lucy managed a smile. “And your mother will accept that?”
“My mother will accept any woman I present to her,” he said, with a trace of irony. “She is desperate, you see. So long as you are from a good family and with a decent dowry, I can promise you that she will be delighted. Shall we go in?”
Nerves swirled through Lucy’s stomach, pushing themselves through her veins. Unable to form words, she clung to Lord Caldwell’s arm as they walked towards the French doors, hardly able to believe that she was about to do this. Her life would change for a time at least, no longer able to have the solitude she had always loved. There would be visits and courting and conversations, for they would have to give the impression of being a happily betrothed couple, of course.
“A waltz has begun,” he murmured as they stepped into the ballroom. “Shall we, my dear?”
Lucy looked up at him, aware of how he had addressed her and finding it both exciting and terrifying in equal measure.
“It might help calm your nerves,” he continued softly. “Come now, Lady Lucy. Courage!”
Lucy lifted her chin and allowed him to sweep her onto the floor. Within moments, they were amidst the rest of the dancing couples, and she was held tightly in his arms. Thankfully for her, Lord Caldwell appeared to be a wonderful dancer, not putting a foot wrong as he glided across the dance floor.
“Relax,” he whispered, giving her a bright smile. “We are meant to look wonderfully happy! Remember, we have only just become engaged.”
She managed to slightly loosen her grip on his shoulder, holding his hand a little more gently.
“There you go,” he chuckled, his chest rumbling as his eyes sparkled with mirth. “Now you look much happier, my dear.”
Lucy drew in one long breath after another, aware that she would have to face her parents soon after this dance ended. They would be surprised to see her on the floor, of course, in a gentleman’s arms, and even more astonished to discover she was engaged!
The music ended all too soon, and Lucy found herself being escorted from the floor on Lord Caldwell’s arm.
“Your parents or mine?” he asked with a quick grin.
“Mine, I think,” Lucy said, dampening down her anxiety. “I believe they are upon us.”
“As is Lord Hutton,” Lord Caldwell growled, evidently spotting the large gentleman following her parents.
Pasting a wide smile on her face, Lucy stepped forward and greeted her parents in an excited tone.
“Lucy,” her father began, attempting to draw Lord Hutton forward. “I—”
“Father,” Lucy interrupted, her hand now on Lord Caldwell’s arm. “Let me introduce you to Lord Caldwell, the first son of the Marquess of Blackinstore.” She looked up at him with what she hoped was an adoring expression. “Lord Caldwell, this is my father, the Lord Withington, and my mother, Lady Withington.”
“How wonderful to meet you both at last,” Lord Caldwell murmured, bowing heavily.
She saw the astonishment in her mother’s eyes, though she immediately covered it with a deep curtsy. “How wonderful to meet you, my lord,” she
murmured, her eyes drifting towards Lucy. “I saw both of you on the dance floor. How delightful that my daughter has managed to acquaint herself with such a fine dancer.”
“Not just acquaint, Lady Withington,” Lord Caldwell said carefully. “I know this is very hasty, and I must apologize for not seeking you out first, Lord Withington, but I simply could not wait a day longer to ask for your daughter’s hand.”
“Her hand?” Lord Withington repeated, staring at him. “You mean—”
“We are engaged!” Lucy interrupted, flashing a bright smile at them both.
There was a stunned silence as both of her parents gazed at her as though she had quite lost her senses. Lord Caldwell pressed her hand gently with his, as if asking her to bide her time before speaking again.
“Lord Withington,” came a disgruntled murmur. “I thought you said—”
Lucy’s father coughed loudly, stepping directly in front of the angry face of Lord Hutton. “How wonderful,” he said loudly. “My hearty congratulations to you both.”
“Thank you,” Lucy heard Lord Caldwell reply as she held her mother’s gaze. “I do hope you can forgive me for not seeking an audience with you first.”
“But of course,” her father said, shaking Lord Caldwell’s hand. “I understand. The first foray into love and all that.”
“Quite,” came Lord Caldwell’s reply.
Lucy drew in a long breath and stepped forward to press her mother’s hand, leaving the safety of Lord Caldwell’s side. “You see, Mama,” she said softly, “I have found someone to marry me after all.”
Her mother’s befuddled expression slowly cleared. “And one day you will be a marchioness,” she breathed, excitement filling her expression. “I can hardly believe, it Lucy. I had not even imagined you had formed any kind of attachment of late, given that we hardly see you on the dance floor.”
“It is short, I grant you,” Lucy said, thrilled that her mother appeared to be taking this so well. “But I care for him deeply, and I believe he feels the same. It is my heart’s desire to wed him, Mama. I am so glad you approve.”