Love for Lucinda

by Gayle Buck

  Lucinda shrugged in capitulation. “Very well, then. If you would so have it. Mr. Stassart implied for all and sundry to overhear that he had offered his suit to me and that I had spurned him with a ruthless dispatch.”

  Mr. Weatherby swore softly. “A sorry trick, in truth. I do not wonder at your reaction. Lady Mays.” He threw a sharp glance down at Lucinda’s profile. “Has your cousin ever had occasion to think himself encouraged in that direction, my lady?”

  Lucinda raised her eyes, her expression indignant. “Of course not! Why, Ferdie has been riding roughshod over my family for years. I would have been more likely to laugh at any suggestion of a match between us than encourage it!”

  “Your family, my lady? What have they to do with this contretemps?” asked Mr. Weatherby. They had paused before one of the half-opened windows. He thrust up the sash a little higher.

  A breath of fresh air eddied over Lucinda’s face, and she sighed in appreciation. “Oh, my cousin is my father’s heir and has always taken monstrous advantage of the position. Ferdie was forever importuning my father for funds to settle his gaming debts and the like,” she said. She summoned up a smile. “You must understand, sir, the Stassarts were never in particularly plump pocket. Therefore my cousin’s claims were always seen by my sisters and me as a threat to the very fabric of our existence.” Lucinda did not think it appropriate to reveal just how closely her own fate had been tied to the settlement of her cousin’s debts.

  “As bad as that,” mused Mr. Weatherby. “I begin to understand the depth of your reaction to Mr. Stassart’s ruse, my lady.”

  “His ruse? Whatever can you mean?” asked Lucinda, startled.

  Mr. Weatherby smiled down at her, a rather grim light in his eyes. “I suspect that Mr. Stassart is desirous of forming just such a connection between you that you would most resist, my lady. Your cousin is a gamester with a history of being run off his legs. You are a widow amply endowed by your late lord. It is plain to me that your cousin is hanging out for a rich wife, and who better than the daughter of the gentleman whose heir he is? Everything is thus neatly tied up. Mr. Stassart has control of your assets and an easy avenue to your father’s pockets, for your father will not allow his daughter ever to be thrown into the gutter for the sake of a few pounds now and again.”

  “No, indeed. However, there is a flaw in your logic, Mr. Weatherby. How could Ferdie ever entertain hopes of my accepting his suit, even supposing that was his game?” asked Lucinda. “He knows very well that my eyes are wide open to his gammon.”

  “Oh, you would come round to accepting his suit, my lady,” said Mr. Weatherby coolly. “The weight of social opinion would eventually demand it of you. Or it would exact a heavy penalty for your refusal.”

  At Lucinda’s startled stare, Mr. Weatherby arched a heavy brow. His expression exceedingly cynical, he said, “Think on it, my lady. This evening he has planted the seeds. You are a terrible flirt, my lady, one who plays fast and loose with her cousin’s affections. Just let that suggestion take hold, and you will have the whole of London sympathizing with poor Mr. Stassart. Next he proves himself devoted to you, protesting his undying affection. He is prostrated by your indifference, by your blowing hot and cold upon him. Ladies who once smiled on you would begin to whisper disparagingly behind your back, holding you up to their daughters as an example of appalling disregard. Gentlemen who once paid you flattering attention would treat you to the disrespect meted out to any highborn lady who was caught out in deliberate and cruel deception.”

  “But it would be lies, all lies,” said Lucinda, staring blindly out the window. She was appalled at the vision that her companion had conjured up. She looked round quickly, shaking her head. “No, I cannot believe it, Mr. Weatherby. My cousin could not possibly serve me such a trick.”

  The gentleman shrugged. “Have it your own way, my lady. But I shall lay this question before you. What possible motive could your cousin have to fly in the face of all the proprieties not a quarter hour past?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mr. Weatherby regarded her frowning expression for a moment before he drove home his point. “Whatever else Mr. Stassart is, he is a gentleman born. He knows what is due to the family name. He has a vested interest, after all! Is he unhinged that such things are of no moment to him?”

  “No, no, of course not! Ferdie is always all that is correct. He is proud of his reputation of being considered good ton,” said Lucinda.

  She turned fully to her companion, having come to the decision to trust him. “Mr. Weatherby, though I cannot fully accept your analysis of my cousin’s possible motivation, nevertheless it is quite true that Ferdie has put me squarely into the hands of the gossips. It is not my wish to figure as the latest on dit! Therefore I am asking for your advice. What is the best way to go about scotching any ludicrous rumors regarding myself and my cousin?”

  Mr. Weatherby offered his arm to her once more. She hesitantly accepted his escort, wondering that he did not reply at once.

  “I am taking you to your chaperone, Miss Blythe. My suggestion is that you stick close to that lady as nearly as possible. Never give Mr. Stassart the opportunity to either interview you in private or to importune you in public.”

  Lucinda cast a laughing glance up at him. “That is easier said than done, sir! I cannot avoid Ferdie entirely. He has been to call here at Mays House, and even though Miss Blythe sits with me,that will not be universally known. Nor does it end there. We are bound to run into one another at any number of functions.”

  “Deny the door to him here at Mays House. Make it known through the strictest confidences to friends that your cousin’s excessive gaming has put him beyond the pale with you. Acknowledge him in public only with the shortest of bows,” said Mr. Weatherby with overriding ruthlessness.

  Lucinda dispassionately regarded the gentleman. “It occurs to me that you seem to hold my cousin in some aversion. Have you a motive of your own to accomplish, Mr. Weatherby?”

  He allowed the trace of a smile to touch his lips. “You are a sharp-witted young woman, Lady Mays. But in this instance you have quite mistaken the matter. Here is Miss Blythe.” He greeted the older woman with the easy friendliness of one of comparable age and station.

  Then Mr. Weatherby turned to Lucinda and carried her hand to his lips. His gray eyes were filled with an amusement that was disturbing to Lucinda. “I shall wait on you one day this week, Lady Mays. But I think that I shall take my leave of you, and the estimable Miss Blythe, for this evening.”

  “Very well, sir. I trust that you enjoyed the entertainment that was offered this evening,” said Lucinda politely. She could have cut out her tongue when the amusement in the gentleman’s eyes leaped into open laughter.

  “I did indeed, my lady,” said Mr. Weatherby suavely. He bowed to Miss Blythe, exchanging a few cordial words, and then left the ladies.

  Lucinda watched Mr. Weatherby’s tall upright figure as he made his leisurely way out of the ballroom. “What a very strange man he is!” she exclaimed.

  “Do you think so, my dear? For my part, I think Mr. Weatherby to be a gentleman of exceptional qualities,” said Miss Blythe, still smiling. Turning her head to regard Lucinda with a measure of curiosity, she said briskly, “What is this I have just heard? That you rebuffed Mr. Stassart on the dance floor?”

  “Oh, was there anything more vexing!” exclaimed Lucinda. She was at once reminded of her annoyance. “Ferdie had the audacity to play off his abominable tricks while I was standing up with him. You know his dramatic way of expressing himself, Tibby. He said something that I took offense to and instead of simply apologizing and letting it go, my cousin treated me to a Cheltenham tragedy in the midst of the set! I was never more mortified or angered. I fear that I rushed off the floor like the veriest goose. If it had not been for Mr. Weatherby’s timely intervention, I believe that I might have quit the ballroom altogether.”

  “I wonder that I did not see any of this. Of course, I have
been engaged in conversation nearly the whole evening,” said Miss Blythe. She was dismayed at her own dereliction of duty. “I hold myself entirely responsible for the resulting gossip, Lucinda, for I should have kept a closer watch out for you.”

  Lucinda reached out quickly to squeeze her companion’s hand. “Nonsense, Tibby! You are not at fault. I have only myself to blame. I should not have let Ferdie put me in such a flame.”

  “Mr. Stassart has obviously behaved very badly. I am surprised in him, I must admit. It is a pity that I cannot call him to book,” said Miss Blythe, her thin lips tightening as her gaze fell on that oblivious gentleman.

  “Mr. Weatherby had some rather blunt advice to give me in how to repair my cousin’s unfortunate lapse in good manners,” said Lucinda. “I rather think that I might entertain at least a portion of it. Tibby, give me the benefit of your opinion, I pray.” She proceeded to reveal to Miss Blythe Mr. Weatherby’s advice, ending with, “I rely on you to steer me in the right direction, Tibby. Should I do as Mr. Weatherby has said?”

  Miss Blythe was frowning. “There is much merit in Mr. Weatherby’s suggestions. However, I do not believe that you can in all conscience simply cut Mr. Stassart’s acquaintance altogether. That would be thought very odd when he is known to be Sir Thomas’s heir.”

  “That is what I thought, too. It seems such an extreme length to go, despite Mr. Weatherby’s contention that Ferdie deliberately set that little scene for the benefit of the gossips,” said Lucinda.

  “How is this, Lucinda?” asked Miss Blythe, surprised.

  Lucinda shrugged and smiled a little ruefully. “Why, Mr. Weatherby is of the opinion that Ferdie has taken it into his head to make me his wife and, knowing that I would have nothing to do with him, he has chosen to force my hand by holding me up to critics and gossip. Of course I denied that Ferdie could plan a thing so underhanded or, indeed, so dishonorable. Why, it is utterly inconceivable!”

  Miss Blythe had listened to Lucinda’s explanation with an increasingly arrested expression. She said at last, very quietly, “My dear. So much is at last explained.” She took hold of her former pupil’s hands in an unexpectedly firm grasp. “My very dear Lucinda, I have the most lowering feeling that Mr. Weatherby could very well be correct. I have thought for some time that Mr. Stassart’s effusive expressions— In short, it is certainly not a suspicion that one would ever wish to entertain, but I am struck with how neatly it explains something that has often puzzled me of late.”

  “Tibby! Surely you do not believe that Ferdie desires to take me to wife? And to accomplish it in such a manner. It is preposterous!” exclaimed Lucinda.

  Miss Blythe let go of Lucinda’s hands. She shrugged, a perturbed expression on her face. “Mr. Stassart is a gamester and not a very successful one, my dear. Wedding a wealthy young woman has certainly always been one way for a gentleman in deep financial straits to right himself. As for the means employed, you have said yourself that you would never entertain an honorable suit from Mr. Stassart.”

  Lucinda’s thoughts had taken a related tack. “Ferdie is not precisely the catch of the Season in the eyes of those with marriageable daughters, is he?” she asked slowly.

  “My dear! Emphatically not! I have heard from more than one lady that Mr. Stassart is actively discouraged from hanging out after their daughters. No fond mother wishes her dear daughter to wed a gentleman who is certain to run through every pound that he may put his hand on,” said Miss Blythe. She smiled suddenly, though without amusement. “Unless, of course, the gentleman in question has a very distinguished title.”

  “Oh, dear.” Lucinda looked across the ballroom and caught a glimpse of her cousin. Mr. Stassart was doing the pretty over the hand of a simpering matron. His appearance was as usual impeccable, though of an extravagant fashion not to her taste. A thread of pity for him formed within her. “Poor Ferdie. I wonder whether he is quite run off his legs again.” The thought dispersed the unaccustomed pity. She turned to Miss Blythe, exclaiming, “Tibby, he must not apply to my father. I won’t have it.”

  “There is little you can do in that direction, Lucinda. But in light of what we suspect, I think you may rest assured, at least for a time, that Mr. Stassart will remain in London. He is, after all, the complete social creature,” said Miss Blythe.

  Lucinda chuckled suddenly. “Quite true! Ferdie positively despises the country. He will stay in town until his straits become quite, quite desperate. And if Mr. Weatherby’s assumption proves correct, he will stay as long as he has hopes of pushing me to the altar. I believe—yes, I do believe that I can throw him a crumb or two to encourage him to think that his wiles are bearing fruit.”

  “I hope that you are not planning to encourage the creature, Lucinda,” said Miss Blythe sharply, staring at her over the rims of her spectacles.

  “Of course not. Nevertheless, Ferdie will feel himself encouraged. It is the nature of the gamester to harbor hope even when all points to the contrary, is it not?”

  “Lucinda.” Miss Blythe regarded her with misgiving. “Lucinda, just what exactly do you mean to do?”

  “Nothing the least out of the ordinary, I assure you. Ferdie will make up one of the company whenever I hold a function such as this. I will greet him cordially whenever we should meet elsewhere. But at no time shall my cousin be granted a private word, nor shall I expose myself to his sole attentions,” said Lucinda coolly. She flashed a sudden smile at her companion. “Ferdie fancies himself to be an excellent dancer. It is a pity that in future I must confine myself to less expert partners!”

  Miss Blythe was reassured. She, too, smiled. “For my part, I shall do all within my power to fend off the gentleman,” she said. “Mr. Stassart will find me to be the strictest and most suspicious of chaperones, I fear. I shall not allow you to receive him unless there is at least one other caller already present. Otherwise, dear Lucinda, I shall insist that he not be allowed to come up.”

  Lucinda laughed. “I am trusting you to do just that, Tibby! Oh, dear, how very much Ferdie is going to dislike you!”

  “I positively relish the thought, my dear,” Miss Blythe assured her.

  Lord Mays came up at that moment. He bowed to the ladies, then smiled at Lucinda. “I have hopes of persuading Miss Blythe into granting her permission for me to solicit your hand for this waltz, my lady.”

  “I do not know, my lord. She has just assured me that she means to be ever so much stricter with me,” said Lucinda, also smiling. She turned to her companion. “What is your verdict, Tibby? May I be trusted with this gentleman at least?”

  “What do you say, Miss Blythe? I perceive that I am at your complete mercy,” said Lord Mays.

  Miss Blythe chuckled. “I have every confidence in you, Lord Mays.”

  Lord Mays meekly thanked Miss Blythe for her faith in him before he swept Lucinda off onto the floor. While he whirled Lucinda around to the stately music, he said, “I think that your supper and ball is a pretty success, Lucinda. I have heard nothing but good reports all evening.”

  “I am glad, for truthfully I was a bit anxious. I did so want it to go over well,” said Lucinda. She was enjoying being partnered by Lord Mays. He was a very smooth dancer and guided her expertly. His hand on hers and his arm about her waist were warm and reassuring.

  “There is no question of that,” said Lord Mays. “What was it you and Miss Blythe were joking about? Is there someone whom she frowns upon?”

  “Oh, we were talking about my cousin, Mr. Stassart,” said Lucinda. She was surprised when Lord Mays’s fingers tightened on hers. “Wilfred!”

  “Has that fellow overstepped himself, Lucinda?” Lord Mays asked sharply. “I had heard some folderol a few minutes ago that I discounted as so much nonsense, but—”

  “Oh, bother! The truth of the matter is that Mr. Stassart overplayed his protestations of cousinly devotion, and it was misunderstood by some who do not know the looseness of the connection between us,” said Lucinda. “I was rather incen
sed at him for making us the center of vulgar curiosity in such an idiotic fashion, while dear Tibby was positively up in arms over it. I suspect if she could have done so, she would have raked my cousin over the coals in rattling fashion.”

  “Rightfully so! The effrontery of the fellow!” Catching sight of Mr. Stassart, Lord Mays’s frown deepened. “Cousin that he is to you or not, Lucinda, I cannot like Stassart. That posturing and those ridiculous airs leave one positively bilious.”

  Lucinda laughed, her face clearing. “Pray do not allow yourself to be made ill-tempered by my cousin on my account, Wilfred. I do not regard him and so you should not.”

  “Yes, but it is not just you, Lucinda. There is young Thorpe, too. I never would have believed Gerald to be such a gudgeon as to fall into that cardsharp’s clutches,” said Lord Mays, perhaps with a lamentable lack of discretion.

  Lucinda looked up in quick dismay. “What do you mean, Wilfred? Has Ferdie lured Lord Thorpe into gaming more than he should? Oh, I would not have that for worlds! Lord and Lady Thorpe are such innocents. They could not even conceive what disaster could befall them if they were ever to become addicted to that sort of life.”

  “That’s just the thing, Lucinda,” said Lord Mays, appreciating her excellent grasp of his own concerns. “I feel myself somewhat responsible for Gerald. He was in my regiment at Waterloo, and never was there a better fellow in a tight place. But he is so trusting and ... and ...”

  “It would never cross his mind that anyone could take a frightful advantage of him,” said Lucinda as with a sinking feeling she recalled Lady Thorpe’s frank description of her lord.

  “That is it precisely!” exclaimed Lord Mays in astonishment. “How did you know?”

  “Lady Thorpe let drop something to the purpose,” said Lucinda. “What will you do, Wilfred?”