“If possible, I want to be there.”
“Your Grace, I can’t let you put yourself in harm’s way. It won’t do the lady any good at all if you were to get injured or worse.”
“When you catch him, I want a few minutes alone with him.”
Mr. Robinson nodded. “I’ll be happy to arrange it, provided we can catch him.”
Two weeks later
“I’m perfectly well, Grandmama,” Lucy said, “and it is necessary for me to speak to Granfield today. Mrs. Finkle sent a letter stating that she’d made a mistake.”
“Humph,” Grandmama said. “I wager Granfield had a hand in it.”
“Perhaps he did, but the important thing is that I still have my job at the Albany, and I’ve heard from Mrs. Vernon, who wished me well and requested dance lessons for her girls as soon as I’m recovered. She has a friend who would like me to teach her children as well. I had always thought to instruct adults, but I have found I prefer teaching children. They are always so happy when they are praised.”
“I worry it will be too strenuous for you. You were very ill.”
“I’m well now, Grandmama.”
One week ago, the workers had completed the repairs on their old lodgings. While Harry had encouraged her to make use of the town house for as long as she wished, Lucy had declined his generous offer. She had, however, agreed to a paid guard at their old lodgings until Buckley was apprehended. Mr. Jones had fought in the Peninsular War, and that had made Lucy feel far safer.
On that day, she’d taken the first step toward ending her relationship with Harry. She loved him so very dearly, but she’d always known that there must be an ending. There was a part of her that still yearned for the fairy-tale proposal and wedding, but she knew that she could never be the duchess he needed.
“Lucy, are you certain about this step you plan to make?” Grandmama said. “I fear you will make Granfield very unhappy today.”
“It will be hard,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “but I know that this is the right thing to do.”
“Do you love him?”
She blinked back tears. “Yes, but it is not enough. In a perfect world, that would be all that matters, but it will never work. I’ve known all along that there must be an end.” But even as she said the words, it seemed as if she were chipping away pieces of her heart.
“He isn’t one to take no for an answer,” Grandmama said.
“I know, but he will soon see that this is the best thing for him and his family.” She’d managed to stay calm as she’d spoken, but inside she felt hollow and dispirited. She knew it would take months before she could think of him without pain pulsing in her heart.
Harry rose as Lucy walked into the small parlor in their old lodgings. “Roses from my mother’s garden,” he said.
She inhaled the fragrance. “Your mother’s cinnamon roses.” Her heart was beating hard, and already misery enveloped her.
He shrugged. “I don’t know the difference. To me, they’re flowers.”
She desperately wanted to give him one last kiss, but she didn’t want to mislead him. “I’ll get a vase.”
When Lucy returned with the vase, her smile faltered. She felt awful about what she must do and feared she would weep before she could say the words. “I persuaded my grandmother to let us talk alone,” she said.
He searched her eyes. “I have a feeling this isn’t good news.”
“We must talk,” she said. Oh God, it hurt already.
“Should I grovel in advance?”
“Harry, no. Please sit with me.”
“Something is troubling you.”
“You have been the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“We are more than friends, Lucy.”
She inhaled on a shaky breath. “I appreciate all the help you have given to my grandmother and me.”
“You do not have to thank me. I only want to see you safe and happy.”
She wet her dry mouth and her eyes started to well.
“What is wrong?”
“We must end this, Harry.”
He took her hand in his. “Don’t do this, Lucy.”
She took a deep breath and released it. “In a perfect world, we could forge a life together and never worry what others thought, but there is no such thing. Nothing I do will ever change my status among the ton, and it could affect you and your family if you make the wrong choice. I can’t let that happen.”
“I care nothing about status or the ton. You know that.”
“It is a part of your identity, the same as the dukedom. You have responsibilities to your family, parliament, and Havenwood.”
“I have a responsibility to you. Lucy, I love you, and I will not give up on us, and I will not let you go.”
“Harry, no one will ever forget that I served lemonade at Almack’s. No one will ever forget that I earned money for instructing dance, and most of all no one will forget that I cleaned gentlemen’s rooms at the Albany.”
“I don’t care if they never forget. I care about you,” he said.
“Suppose I agreed to marry you. What do you think would happen? Your friends would pity you for making a misalliance. They would talk behind your back because your wife once changed the sheets on gentlemen’s beds at the Albany. What about children, Harry? Do you think the offspring of the ton will not know that the mother of your children swept out the hearths at the Albany?”
“If you believe that I am so shallow I would care what others think, then you do not know me at all.”
“I’m sorry to paint such a negative picture, but I am doing it for you.”
“No, you are not,” he said, his voice heated. “You are afraid of the challenge. It is like that first time I met you at the park. You were ready to run away until I called you a coward. And, Lucy, what you are doing right now is cowardly.”
Her nostrils flared. “The cowardly thing to do would be to drag you down in a marriage that is so far beneath you that others will gasp in shock.”
“No, Lucy, the cowardly thing is to pretend that you’re doing this for me and my family when the real reason is that you’re terrified of facing the ton.”
“I saw how others whispered about my mother—when they weren’t ignoring her. I discovered that ignoring someone is an active act. I will not allow that to happen again.”
Something was different in the way she’d spoken about how her mother was treated. He realized she’d spoken almost as if her mother were present, but it wasn’t her mother at all. “Lucy, it wasn’t only your mother who was ostracized.”
She stood and walked to the hearth. “It isn’t important.”
“Who hurt you, Lucy?”
“It’s useless to discuss something that happened long ago.”
He strode over to her and took her in his arms. “Lucy, who hurt you?”
“It is ancient history. You know children can be cruel.”
“They were cruel because you spoke differently,” he said.
She lifted her chin. “They never forgot it. Is that what you want to hear? They wouldn’t include me in games. Is that what you want to hear?” She put her fist to her heart. “I know what it is like to be an outsider, Harry. If we married, no one would ever accept me as your duchess. They would never say it to my face, but they would rip me to shreds for having the audacity to marry you.”
“I don’t care about them. I care about you.” He drew in a ragged breath. “I will not let you go, Lucy.”
“I will always hold you in my heart,” she said.
“Then don’t do this,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Harry. I love you too much to hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me now,” he said.
“I said this once before, and I will say it again. I will not be the instrument of unhappiness for you and your family. I will always cherish the memory of our season together, but now I must end what never should have started in the first place.”
; He took her by the shoulders. “I will never give up and I will not lose you. Do you understand?”
“Harry, I don’t want to part in anger.”
“What did you expect?” he said. “You tell me you love me, but you refuse me. I can give you everything—a home and children. I can give you a lifetime.”
“You will find someone worthy of you.”
“I already found her, but she won’t have me, because I’m a bloody duke.”
Her face crumpled. “I’m so sorry. I love you, but the greatest gift I can give you is to walk away.”
“It’s not over,” he said. “I will not let you go.”
When he stalked out of her lodgings, Lucy sat on the sofa and wept.
Chapter Sixteen
Harry felt numb all over as he climbed inside his carriage and knocked the cane on the roof.
She might as well have stabbed him in the heart that first night he’d run to her rescue. He ought to have known better. She’d told him over and over again that the differences in their classes made any relationship between them impossible.
He’d been so damn sure he could overcome her objections, and those of society. But that day when he’d handed her in the carriage when Everleigh and Beauland had appeared, he’d purposely hidden her from view, because he’d wanted to protect her.
That was the problem. She shouldn’t have to be protected from view.
Bloody hell. He didn’t want to lose her, but it wasn’t just about him. She and her mother had suffered because of class differences. Lucy likely didn’t want to expose herself to ridicule and cruelty. If he married her, others would be especially cruel because she would be a duchess. They would skewer her behind her back and snub her in a thousand little ways. Looking at it from her perspective, he realized he’d been selfish. It would take a miracle to sway opinions in the ton.
Lucy deserved to be treated with respect and dignity. He had to think of her first. She would find someone, a wealthy merchant perhaps, who would ensure she never lacked for any material possession. But it killed him to think of another man kissing her and making love to her. He put his head in his hands and wondered how the devil he could live without her. But there was one last thing he could do for her. He would make sure Buckley paid for what he’d done, and when it was over, he would tell Lucy she need never fear him again.
Harry met Colin and Bellingham at White’s. He figured if he got stinking drunk he might not care that Lucy had decided to end things with him. When he drank yet another glass of brandy, his friends stared at him.
“If you intend to get corn, pickled, and salted, you’re doing a fine job,” Bell said.
Harry poured himself another drink. “Women,” he muttered.
Bell and Colin stared at him.
“Does this have something to do with the dancer?” Colin asked.
“I need to get foxed,” Harry said.
“This reminds me of when he almost drowned in the bloody Thames,” Bell said.
Harry’s eyes watered as he drained another glass. “You’re not my savior.”
“Somebody needs to save you from the bottle,” Colin said. “Come along, old boy, you need to go home.”
“Bandit will bark.”
“Dogs do that,” Bell said, slinging his arm around Harry.
“We’ll have a hell of a time getting him up the stairs,” Colin said. “He’s bloody big.”
Bell snorted. “I haven’t forgotten the first time we had to shove him up to his rooms.”
“Good times,” Harry muttered.
Harry wasn’t quite sure what he’d done with his hat, but his friends offered to buy him dozens of new ones if he’d stop looking in the gutter for his missing one. Harry squinted. “I’m foxed.”
“How shocking,” Bell said. “Hold him up, Colin. I’ll send his driver home.”
Harry didn’t remember the carriage ride with his friends or how they got him up the stairs. He found himself slumped on the sofa with a cup of coffee. Meanwhile, Bandit lay at his feet munching on bones in the silver saver.
“You’re going to have the devil of the head tomorrow,” Colin said.
“I forgot to tell her something.”
“Her?” Colin said. “You mean the dancer?”
“Lucy,” he said. “She thinks she’ll ruin my life. She already did.”
“How did she ruin your life?” Bell asked.
“She won’t have me.”
“Did you propose?” Colin asked.
“I brought her flowers—cinnamon flowers.”
Bell frowned. “He is making no sense.”
“I forgot to tell her.”
“What did you forget to tell her?” Bell asked.
He stood and swayed. The room was spinning. “I must go see her. I forgot to tell her.”
Colin managed to get him to sit down again. “Old boy, you’re stinking drunk. You don’t want her to see you like this.”
“Can’t help it. I love her.” Harry lay on the old sofa and Bandit jumped up beside him.
“You need to sleep off the spirits, old boy,” Bell said.
Barlow entered. “Ah, I see the problem.”
“In the morning, make him plenty of tea and add a shot of brandy, but not too much,” Bell advised.
“I will.” Barlow puckered his mouth. “Let us hope he doesn’t cast up his accounts.”
“I’ll pop in tomorrow to make sure he’s still alive,” Colin said.
Bell snorted. “He’ll wish he wasn’t on the morrow.”
Harry finally felt human by early afternoon. True to his word, Colin had popped in earlier to make sure Harry was still marginally alive. Lord, he was getting entirely too old for this sort of nonsense, but the headache didn’t compare to the rotten way he felt after losing Lucy. He wished there was something he could do to change her mind, but he didn’t know what else he could do.
He was eating some soup and drinking more tea when there was a knock on the door. With a sigh, he opened it.
“A message from Mrs. Norcliffe,” the footman said. “She asked me to give you her reply.”
Harry wondered what she wanted now. He broke the seal and chill bumps erupted on his arms. “Tell my mother I will be there in thirty minutes or less.”
Lucy opened the missive from Mrs. Norcliffe and frowned. Harry’s mother had specified it was extremely important. No doubt it had to do with dancing at Almack’s. Obviously, Harry had given his mother her address in her old lodgings. But why would Mrs. Norcliffe send her an urgent message? After speaking to her grandmother, Lucy decided to go and took her grandmother with her. After all, Mrs. Norcliffe apparently had shown a great deal of concern for Lucy while she was ill.
Lucy and Grandmama walked to Grosvenor Square since the weather was sunny and relatively warm. The exercise would do her good. She thought about sitting at Green Park afterward, but it would remind her too much of Harry and then she’d tear up again. Heaven knew she’d become a watering pot ever since she’d told him they must part ways.
When she rang the bell, the butler showed them inside.
“You are wanted in the drawing room,” the butler said.
Lucy heard voices upstairs. Was she expected to give dance instructions after all? When she reached the drawing room, there was a hush as she led her grandmama to a chair.
When she saw Harry, her eyes involuntarily welled up with tears. He strode over to her. “Lucy, are you well?”
When she met Harry’s gaze, his expression was serious.
Her lower lip trembled. “I missed you, Harry,” she whispered.
He took her hands. “Lucy, I’ve been miserable without you.”
She looked into his eyes. “I love you with all of my heart, and I can’t live without you,” she said under her breath.
There was a suspicious sheen in his blue eyes. “You are the only woman I will ever love,” he whispered.
“I was scared and pushed you away.”
“Darling girl, you h
ave nothing to fear.”
Mrs. Norcliffe joined them and cleared her throat. “Miss Longmore, thank you for coming.”
Lucy was bewildered. There were people in the room she didn’t recognize.
An older gray-haired man sat watching her. His eyes were red and watery. He looked ill.
Mrs. Norcliffe gently took Lucy’s arm and led her across the room. “Miss Longmore, allow me to introduce you to Lady Thornwell and Lady Montjoy. They brought their father to London to see a physician.”
Lucy curtsied. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“I made my debut with Lady Thornwell and Lady Montjoy many years ago,” Mrs. Norcliffe said. “When I learned they were in town, I invited them to call with their son Viscount Hartford and the Earl of Wargrove. That is when I learned they are seeking news of a family member.”
Lucy shook her head slowly in denial at the mention of Wargrove.
Lady Thornwell took a deep breath. “We have been searching for news of our long-lost younger sister. She left all her family many years ago and eloped. Since that time, we’ve heard no news until we came to London this week.”
Chill bumps erupted on Lucy’s arms. There must be a mistake. It couldn’t have been her mother.
Lady Montjoy dabbed a handkerchief at her eyes. “Our sister Anne ran away with our father’s secretary. His name was…Bertram Longmore.”
Lucy gasped. Her legs felt like jelly. Then Harry was at her side. “Come sit. You look as if you’re about to swoon.”
After he led her to the sofa, Lucy tried to keep the tears at bay, but she couldn’t. Harry handed her a handkerchief and put his arm around her.
“I d-don’t know why I’m crying,” Lucy said.
“It’s perfectly natural,” Mrs. Norcliffe said.
“Mrs. Norcliffe told us your mother passed away a few years ago,” Lady Thornwell said.
Lucy nodded. “She sent a letter, but it was r-returned unopened.”
The older gray-haired man winced.
What a Devilish Duke Desires Page 31