The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda: A Summersby Tale

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The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda: A Summersby Tale Page 12

by Sophie Barnes


  “Mind if I join you?”

  Had it been possible for her to jump out of her skin, Lucy would have done so, she was so alarmed by the sudden sound of a male voice coming from directly behind her. Her heart knocked against her chest as she slowly turned her head to find Lord Fairfield staring down at her. “I thought you would have joined the others,” she said, unable to think of anything else just then.

  He tilted his head, studying her for a moment as if contemplating something, and then smiled that crooked signature smile of his. “Yes, I suppose you might have,” he said, “but then again, I’ve always enjoyed surprising people—keeps them on their toes.”

  Lucy could say nothing in response to that. Indeed, it was all she could do to refrain from fainting right there on the spot from sheer terror. His words, coupled with the fact that he’d deliberately sought her out in private, had riled every instinct that told her to leap to her feet and run as fast as she could. Yet the only thing she could run toward was the cold water of the lake, for Fairfield himself was blocking the route back to the house.

  Panic began to set in, but the letter she’d received gave her pause. What if Fairfield wasn’t the one? She couldn’t risk revealing anything in case word about her impending nervous breakdown spread. So, she clutched her hands tightly in her lap and nodded to the space beside her, forcing herself to say, “By all means, my lord, do have a seat.”

  “As it happens, I’ve no desire to venture out into all that corn—too many dratted insects, you see,” he explained as soon as he was on the ground beside her. “Are you cold, Lady Summersby? You’re visibly shaking. It really wouldn’t do for you to catch a chill. William would have my head. Here, please take my jacket.”

  What on earth was she to think? Was the seemingly kind and jovial Fairfield the very same man who’d so callously murdered her parents? The more she considered it, the more Lucy found that she was having a very difficult time equating the two. And yet, she reminded herself that she must remain cautious. Similarly, it really wouldn’t do to offend an innocent man, so she thanked him for his offer, accepted his jacket, and then asked in the most nonchalant tone of voice that she could manage, “Did you happen upon me by chance, Lord Fairfield, or was there something particular that you wished to discuss with me?”

  “I see you’ve found me out, Lady Summersby,” he said with a chuckle. He must have seen her startled expression, for he immediately began to elaborate. “You see, I like to give my gentlemen friends the impression that I’ve no interest in marriage—the desire to maintain my image and all that.” With a sigh of relief at discovering that Fairfield wasn’t about to stab her or perhaps drag her into the lake and attempt to drown her, Lucy relaxed a little and tried to give him her full attention. “However, I can’t say that I would oppose were I to find the right woman.”

  “I see. And you wished to bring me into your confidence because…?”

  “Well, I thought you might perhaps be able to recommend one of the young ladies. It is possible that I might enjoy their company if I give them half a chance, but I’ve no desire to waste my time either.”

  Lucy stared at him in surprise. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

  He grinned as he leaned back on his elbows and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I realize I come across as a bit of a prankster at times, but rest assured, there is a more serious side to me.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, it would have been difficult for me to keep my estate running otherwise. I doubled my income last year.”

  Lucy was shocked. She hadn’t taken Fairfield to have any real business sense.

  “My only weakness is gambling. I always get too excited and bet too high. Consequently, I generally lose, but then again, it’s a small indulgence and one that I can afford.” He fell silent for a moment before continuing. “What I need now, Lady Summersby, is a wife, so if you think that any of these young ladies might suit, I’d be most obliged to hear your opinion on the matter.”

  Lucy considered the proposition for a moment and then decided that it was best to be honest. “The fact of the matter is that I don’t really know any of them well enough to form an opinion upon which to recommend any one of them in so serious a matter. However, I am able to tell you that Lady Hyacinth did suggest that she would very much enjoy a stroll about the garden with you.”

  Fairfield’s eyes came instantly alive with interest. “She’s very pretty, but what about her character? Did she leave you with a good impression?”

  Lucy had to admit she liked the fact that he was trying to assess all of Lady Hyacinth’s attributes rather than focusing on her looks alone. Truth be told, she really was the loveliest of all the debutantes. Lucy nodded. “She seems both kind and gentle but with just the right touch of forwardness to make her interesting. It’s quite possible that the two of you might suit, but you really must judge for yourself.”

  “Oh, I shall look forward to it, and I shall begin tonight at the ball. What a splendid idea that was on your part. ”

  “Ah, there you are,” another voice cut in, interrupting them. Lucy turned her head, knowing full well that the man who’d just spoken was none other than her husband. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Trying to charm my wife, Andrew?” He spoke lightheartedly, and yet Lucy couldn’t help but hear the underlying threat. Something about it made her skin tingle.

  “A little perhaps, though the truth of the matter is that I was actually seeking her advice.”

  “Oh?” William asked, snatching up a twig and tossing it in the water. He looked down at Fairfield. “On what, if I may ask?”

  With a quick shake of her head and a rather pointed expression that was meant to suggest that she’d tell him all about it later, Lucy hoped to stop her husband from badgering his friend. Apparently it worked, for William simply smiled, waved his hand, and said, “No matter. I only came to see if you would still like to join us on our ride, Lucy. You said yesterday that—”

  “Yes, yes of course!” She quickly jumped to her feet, excited not only to spend more time with William but also to show him that this was something she excelled at. “I’ll just run up and get changed.”

  “Very good,” he said, his mouth widening into a broad smile. “I’ll wait for you on the terrace. Come along, Andrew, it’s time to see what her ladyship is made of.”

  It took Lucy a little longer than she’d expected to change into her riding habit, but when all was said and done, she had to admit that she did look the part of a very fashionable peeress. She refused to wear the ridiculous hat that Marjory was trying to hand her, however, claiming that the feathers had gotten in her eyes once before and had almost caused her to lose her balance. By the time she made it downstairs, she found William waiting for her as promised, along with Fairfield, Galensbury, Stanton, and Reinhardt, all of whom looked quite dashing in their crisp, white shirts, spotless breeches, and newly buffed Hessians.

  Stepping forward, William offered Lucy his arm and began leading her along the path that led toward the stables. She’d allowed herself to forget about his friends during the short time in which she’d readied herself and hadn’t really considered that they’d be joining them on the ride until now. For some absurd reason, she’d envisioned only herself and William racing along side by side, but of course the other gentlemen would be there too. After all, it was technically them who’d invited her for the ride in the first place.

  Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to stay calm. William would be there with her, so she wouldn’t be in any real danger for now—not as long as she remained by his side.

  “Nervous?”

  Pushing back her thoughts of despair, she tilted her head to look up into William’s stormy blue eyes. “Not at all,” she replied, forcing a smile, but the frown that appeared upon his forehead told her that he wasn’t going to be so easily brushed aside. He knew she was being dishonest, so she hastily added, “It’s merely a slight headache. I’ve been suffering from i
t since I woke up this morning. Hopefully the fresh air that the ride has to offer will make me feel better.”

  “I hope it does,” he replied with a great deal of sympathy. But then he dipped his head, bringing it a little closer to hers, and the tone of his voice grew husky. “For I’m rather looking forward to waltzing with you this evening.”

  Heat swept through her body at the sound of his words, so tenderly spoken but with an underlying promise of something far more wicked and dangerous. The effect it had upon her was immediate; her skin began to prickle, her stomach fluttered, and her legs turned to jelly. “Thank you” was all she could think to say, feeling not only addlepated but quite self-conscious as well. “I’m looking forward to it too.” She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was grinning.

  “Why, Lady Summersby,” he continued in more of a whisper, “I do believe that you are blushing.”

  Annoying man!

  “It does appear as though I find myself quite flummoxed whenever you are near, my lord,” she quickly responded. “Indeed, it’s very likely that you may pose a serious hazard to my health.”

  “I doubt that’s possible,” he murmured, dropping his tone another notch. “On the contrary, I’m confident that you have just the right amount of stamina to match me in practically anything—and I do mean anything, Lucy.”

  Thankfully, they’d arrived at the stables now, with the rest of the party drawing up beside them, or Lucy might have either withered away from embarrassment or burst into flames as a result of her husband’s innuendo; she wasn’t sure which.

  A moment later, all thoughts of her exchange with William were swiftly forgotten as she spotted Alexandra coming out of the stables to greet them, dressed like a man in a shirt and breeches. She was accompanied by Ryan who seemed completely at ease with his sister’s odd choice of clothes—shockingly so, in fact.

  Eyeing William, she noticed that he didn’t seem to find it unusual either. She was beginning to think that she was the only one who’d even noticed that her ladyship wasn’t properly attired, until she saw that the rest of the gentlemen were staring at her in open fascination. Alexandra apparently didn’t care. “I asked the groom to saddle Primrose for you,” she told Lucy. “She’s a good horse—not as boisterous as some of the others. And since I wasn’t certain of your prowess, I thought it best to play it safe. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” Lucy told her, grateful that her sister-in-law had shown her such consideration. And when she saw Primrose a short while later, she knew that Alexandra had chosen well, for the legs were long and the body lean. She might be gentle and obedient, but she was certainly made to run.

  They started off at a trot, following the dirt road that skirted the edge of the fields and led toward the heather-covered hills in the distance. The sun was high in the sky by now, forcing Lucy to wonder if she’d made a mistake by leaving behind her hat, but as a gentle breeze tickled her skin, she knew she’d made the right decision. Elegantly perched upon her horse, she rode up next to Alexandra who’d foregone the sidesaddle in favor of riding astride. “Do you find it more comfortable, riding like that?” she asked.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Alexandra replied, her eyes twinkling with a spot of mischief. “Of course I use a sidesaddle when I go for rides in Hyde Park, but when I’m away from town and surrounded by friends, this is my preference. It’s also much easier to maintain one’s balance during a race or when leaping over a hedgerow.”

  Lucy supposed she might have a point, though she’d never had any trouble staying in the saddle herself. However, there was that element of doing something improper about it that somehow intrigued her, though she doubted she’d ever have the courage to attempt such a thing with other people around to witness it.

  “Tell me, Lady Summersby,” Stanton remarked as he came up beside them, sending an immediate shiver down Lucy’s spine, “does the promise of a waltz still stand?”

  For a moment, Lucy felt confused but then recalled the deliberate jibe she’d made at William when she’d first been introduced to Stanton and Galensbury a couple of days earlier. Knowing that William had no desire to see her dance in such close proximity to another gentleman and having no wish to be held in the arms of a potential killer, she frantically wracked her brain for an appropriate excuse. “I must confess that I have just agreed to dance the waltz with my husband, my lord, and since there is to be only one waltz, in deference to the debutantes who have yet to be granted permission to dance it, I fear I must decline. However, I would be happy to oblige you in a reel or a quadrille if you like.”

  “A pity,” Stanton lamented, though his tone held a sense of humor to it. “I shall simply have to sit it out then, but while I do so I shall look forward to our reel, for a reel it shall be then, with great anticipation.”

  “Or, you could simply offer to dance the waltz with Lady Ridgewood. I’m sure she’d be delighted,” Alexandra remarked.

  “I do believe that she’ll be hoping to entertain Lord Moorland’s company rather than mine,” Stanton said.

  Lucy bristled. She still hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with her friend, for whenever she went in search of her, she was nowhere to be found, apparently because she was ensconced somewhere with William’s father. The thought made her very ill at ease. After all, it was more important than ever now that she avoided drawing attention.

  Alexandra shrugged. “Then perhaps a lady from one of the other nearby estates. From what I understand, Lucy and William have invited everyone from near and far to attend—anyone within reasonable distance that is.”

  “That does sound rather promising,” Stanton admitted.

  “What does?” It was Ryan who’d asked the question.

  “Lord Stanton here desires to waltz this evening,” his sister explained, “but since all the ladies appear to be either taken or unable to oblige him, I merely suggested that he wait and see who else shows up. Lord Hackston has what…five daughters, all of marriageable age. I’m sure they’ll be more than eager to take a spin upon the dance floor with our handsome Lord Stanton.”

  Ryan groaned, leading Lucy to suspect that the Hackston women had remained unmarried for a reason. He swiftly confirmed it by saying, “I advise you to steer clear of that lot, Stanton. Their mama is the sort of desperate woman who will risk anything in order to see her daughters wed.”

  “Duly noted, Summersby,” Stanton said with a chuckle. “Indeed, it does appear as if I shall either have to choose my partner wisely or simply forego altogether.”

  “Ready for a bit more speed?” William shouted, his horse already quickening its step in agitation.

  “Most assuredly,” Alexandra responded with an edge of eagerness. “Same route as usual?”

  William strained against his horse’s reins to keep the beast from bolting. He nodded his head. “We’ll ride out to that old cottage—you can just about spot it on the horizon—turn around, and head on back. Anyone not up to it?” His eyes caught Lucy’s, and she knew that his question was directed at her. How gallant of him not to have singled her out directly. But she knew that she was up to the challenge, so she quickly offered him a nod of confirmation. “Very well then—may the best man, or woman, win!” Giving the reins some slack, he allowed his mount to take off across the moor.

  The rest of the horses, clustered together as they were, whinnied and neighed, their hooves frantically shuffling about as they got ready to take up the chase. Pulling sharply on the reins, Lucy eventually managed to break free with Primrose’s long legs leaping forward and picking up speed as she raced after Alexandra and Stanton. She knew that the rest of the group was now coming fast behind her, for she could hear the heavy beat of thunder drumming the ground. A moment later, Ryan drew up beside her, casting a lopsided grin in her direction as he leaned forward against his horse’s neck, and passed her.

  Frustrated, Lucy flicked her whip against Primrose’s rump and held on tight as the mare quickened her pace, catching up to Ryan a
gain in a few easy steps. “You’ll never beat them,” he yelled across at her as he nodded his head toward William and Alexandra. The pair already appeared to have made it to the cottage. “I’ve been trying for years!” And with a cheeky grin, he veered off to the side, disappearing out of sight.

  Turning her head, Lucy saw that he’d turned about and had begun heading in the opposite direction; apparently he’d given up. But she also saw that Galensbury, Fairfield, and Reinhardt were coming up behind her fast and quickly returned her attention to the race. She might not be able to beat William and Alexandra, but she could still come in third and ahead of the other men. Tapping her whip against Primrose once more, she leaned forward, bracing herself against the agile creature while the wind whipped across her face and tugged at her hair.

  Fairfield and Galensbury were the next to come up beside her, their jackets billowing out behind them. Tossing a quick glance at each of them, Lucy leaned as far forward as she dared and yelled for Primrose to pick up her pace. The loyal mare immediately complied, but the awkward position that the sidesaddle offered Lucy, prevented her from reaching the optimal speed, and a few seconds later, she was forced to concede defeat as Fairfield and Galensbury both overtook her.

  Looking up, she saw William and Alexandra heading toward her on their way back to the finish line, followed closely by Stanton. Winning would now be impossible, of that there was no doubt. But she wasn’t one to give up either. She would finish this race, even if she came in last. Looking back, she saw that she was still a few yards ahead of Reinhardt, and she turned her attention back to the ground that lay stretched out before her, covered by a purple blanket of heather. Another hundred paces, she reckoned, and she would reach the cottage. Fairfield and Galensbury were already turning about, both sporting smiles of boyish glee as they started their homeward run.

  But as they passed her, concern began to descend upon her, wrapping itself across her shoulders and clinging to her with insistent determination. She was alone now, with Reinhardt on her heels…Reinhardt…the only person who’d remarked on her mother’s pendant the night before. Was it a coincidence or something more? She dared not think of it, but she knew that he must be able to pass her just like the rest had done, if that was what he wished to do, and yet he remained behind her.

 

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