Anything but Innocent

by Dayna Quince

  There was a shout from Jonathan. “My arm!” He fell to the ground.

  Miss Manton screamed. Lady Lucy began to colorfully curse at her brother as he languished on the ground with an imaginary wound.

  “Lucy, Jonathan! I don’t know which of you to whip first,” Lord Heath bellowed. “Jonathan, get up before Thea faints.”

  Jonathan got to his feet in fits of laughter and apologized. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  Dean felt a protective surge for Miss Manton. The poor girl looked utterly horrified.

  “Give me the pistol. I’ll shoot him for real,” Lady Lucy said angrily and took the pistol from Miss Manton’s weak fingers. She rounded on her brother. “She will never shoot a gun again, Jonathan, and she has you to thank for it.”

  Lord Heath stepped between the siblings and took the pistol from Lucy. Dean sighed in relief. He looked to Miss Manton, who was pale and shaking. He went to her side.

  He turned her away from the bickering and toward the target. He went as far as to put his arm around her shoulders to steady her and pointed. “You see that mark? That’s yours. An excellent first shot.”

  He looked down at her small face. She was blinking rapidly and then focused on the target.

  “For a moment, I thought…”

  “If you had, you’d be famous. He’s done many things to deserve it.”

  She shook her head. “That can’t be true.”

  Dean winked at her. “It’s a little true. He doesn’t deserve death, but a hole in the arm might do him some good.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Jonathan came around Miss Manton’s other side.

  “It’s true and you know it.”

  Jonathan pursed his lips. “I apologize, Thea. It was all in jest. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please don’t stop on my account.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How about you take another right now?” Dean suggested. “Rigsby, go stand by the target.”

  Thea laughed, as did everyone else.

  “Shove off, Winchester,” Jonathan quipped.

  Dean stepped back as Lord Heath handed the pistol to her. She looked to Dean with uncertainty. He nodded encouragingly. She took her aim.

  Dean felt Lady Lucy as she stepped beside him, the light breeze picking up the scent of her and wafting it before his nose. What was that scent? It was sweet and elusive.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He acknowledged her words with a slight dip of his head.

  The crack of the pistol filled the air, and everyone cheered as Thea placed the pistol on the table with a big smile. She was even closer to the bullseye.

  “Even better than before. You’re a natural.” Lord Heath applauded.

  Lucy felt a swell of fondness so profound her eyes began to tear. Thea was shaking like a leaf, but her smile was wide and joyful. If Lucy learned anything this morning, it was that the man beside her, who proclaimed himself unsuitable for her, was, in fact, perfect for her. His inherent kindness toward Thea proved it. Most men ignored Thea. They let her fade into the wallpaper and didn’t give her a second thought. Did he not know this about himself? This would take more investigating on her part. For the rest of the morning, they each took turns until the air was tangy with gunpowder and it was time to leave for the races.

  Chapter 5

  Lucy spun her parasol aimlessly as she strolled with Thea outside the stables. She wasn’t fond of racing. She thought the sport unfair to the horses. It was wholeheartedly a male past time, along with the betting. The sun filtered through puffy white clouds on a beautiful afternoon. Lucy lowered her parasol and stepped under the eave near a stall of a particularly fine horse. He nickered at her in welcome and huffed into her hand by way of greeting. Lucy fished a lump of sugar from her reticule.

  “You shouldn’t,” Thea hissed in warning. “He may require a specific diet.”

  “A little sugar never hurt anyone.”

  “Come. Before someone sees us.” Thea looped her arm through hers and pulled her away.

  Lucy waved farewell to the horse. “We should return to the seating area. Father will begin to worry.”

  “Since when are you concerned with worrying your father?”

  “Since I’ve been banished from the season. What more would it take for him to banish me from England altogether?” Lucy mused.

  “You’re right. It has absolutely nothing to do with you know who seated next to your father.”

  “That too. But he scares me. It’s frustrating trying to impress someone who is so unimpressed.”

  “Just be yourself.”

  “I am being myself.”

  “No. You’re being a nervous ninny pretending to be Lady Lucy. The real you would never try to impress a man. The real you would trample him under the onslaught of your charms.”

  “That… doesn’t sound complimentary.”

  “It is and it isn’t.”

  Lucy clamped her mouth shut and thought about Thea’s words. She wasn’t being herself? Is it because she was afraid she wasn’t interesting enough? She didn’t like that thought. It stung. She pushed the thought away. Her entire life, she had never been not interesting. She’d been a trial for her nursemaid and governess, a delight to her parents, a pest to her brother, but never once had she been uninteresting. She was interesting. So why didn’t she feel like it when in the presence of Lord Winchester?

  Her mood declined as they returned to their designated box. An attendant opened the curtain and held it for her. Lucy did not look up to see if he looked their way. She took her seat and faced the races.

  “Did you enjoy your stroll?” her father said beside her.

  “Very much,” Lucy said.

  It was quiet then, the only sound the crunch of peanut shells from two chairs away.

  “May I have some?” Lucy turned to her brother. She had to look past her father and Lord Winchester. He looked at her briefly and then back to the race that was about to begin.

  “You’ll ruin your gloves,” came Jonathan’s reply.

  “You don’t give a fig for my gloves. I simply want a few peanuts, you glutton.” Lucy pulled off her gloves and held out her hand. Jonathan obliged her, passing a handful to Lord Winchester, who took them, dumped them onto a folded square of handkerchief in his other hand, and then gave them to Lucy’s father who handed them to her.

  “Thank you.” Lucy beamed at Lord Winchester.

  “You are very welcome.” He smiled back at her, but his smile was rather tight.

  Lucy looked forward again.

  “Would you like a peanut?” Lucy offered to Thea. Thea smiled her thanks and took one. Everyone was quiet as the gates were readied for the next race. She set the handkerchief in her lap, noticing the initials stitched in the corner. She ran her thumb over them, her chest tightening oddly. She thought of the way he had smiled at her just a moment ago, she even hazarded a glance his way, but his attention was firmly on the track.

  What did that smile mean? If she was going to be herself, they needed to move past all this awkwardness. It was uncomfortable to feel constantly on one’s edge. Perhaps Thea was right. Lucy should throw caution to the wind and just admit that yes, she likes him. That would require her to not hold back, to let go of the fear of failure and humiliation. What did she have to lose?

  Him.

  But if she did nothing, that was already a guarantee. What did she have to gain? Everything, everything she had ever wanted in love. The risk was worth the reward.

  She would need to tread carefully. Her brother and parents could not know what she was up to or the repercussions would be dire.

  Chapter 6

  That evening, Lucy prepared for dinner as she normally would, feeling both nervous and relieved. Thea had been right. She’d been playing a part and not acting like her true self. The relief was that she would no longer be doing that, but now that she was going to show her true self to him, and wear her metaphorical heart on her sleeve, she was terrified.
She’d never felt so vulnerable, so open to potential heartache. She’d cared for men before, nursed tender feelings and budding attractions hoping to grow into something real, but those feelings paled in comparison to what she felt now.

  She looked at herself in the mirror, her dress a deep red her mother wouldn’t approve of. The color made Lucy feel bold and that was exactly what she meant to be. She quit her room and headed for the drawing room with a stomach that floated uncomfortably as she bounced down the stairs. She entered quietly, seeking Thea’s side as she was chatting with her mother. Her mother looked up and took in her appearance.

  “I don’t recall that exquisite frock as part of your usual wardrobe,” she said with a small frown.

  “No, it’s new. I meant to wear it at the Featherington Ball, but since I won’t be in attendance, I didn’t want it to languish in purgatory.”

  Her mother eyed her carefully, but then turned back to Thea and resumed their discussion. Lucy wondered at her mother’s lack of censure. She’d anticipated a battle, but perhaps, because they were at home, sequestered away from the prying eyes of society, earned her a reprieve. Lucy shrugged mentally. Her father and Jonathan had a chess game going by the fire, and after a quick scan of the room, there was no sign of Lord Winchester to be found.

  Lucy pouted internally. How dismal would it be for her to wear her best dress and he not to be in attendance this evening to appreciate it? There wasn’t anything she could do about it, either.

  “How was the shooting today, my dear?” her mother asked.

  Lucy pulled herself from her musings and smiled. “Wonderful. Thea is a natural marksman.”

  “I had heard. How did Mr. Farris fare? No wounds?”

  “None. He refrained from proposing. Jonathan warned him before hand.”

  “Jonathan, you didn’t!”

  “I did,” Jonathan said without looking up from the chess game. “He wasn’t dissuaded in the least.”

  “I think it encouraged him. His eyes followed her like she was a rare butterfly.” Thea giggled.

  “I am a rare butterfly,” Lucy preened facetiously.

  “The rarest of them all, my dear,” her father doted.

  “Good Lord. This is why she is the way she is,” Jonathan grumbled.

  “You dote upon her just as much as your mother and I. You must accept some of the blame.”

  “Goodness. What am I to do with you three? Thank Heavens Thea is here to ease the trouble. The arguing would never cease otherwise. And what of Lord Winchester? Is he joining us this evening?”

  Lucy could have kissed her mother for asking.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Lady Heath.”

  Lucy just barely caught herself from shivering with delight at the sound of his gruff voice. She twisted to face him, taking in his easy stride, the breadth of his shoulders in a perfectly tailored jacket. She smiled, she couldn’t help herself, and she didn’t hide any of the appreciation that was surely glowing in her eyes.

  He greeted them all as he entered, his eyes touching briefly on everyone, lastly her. As their eyes met, his changed. The smile creases disappeared and a barely noticeable line appeared between his brows. Lucy doubted anyone would notice but her because she was the only one paying such close attention. She raised a single brow in challenge. Would he be frightened so easily?

  The line disappeared and his eyes hardened in answer to her challenge. They swept over her, and Lucy held herself confidently for his inspection. His eyes returned to hers, no longer hardened but not showing her what he was thinking.

  “Lady Lucy,” he acknowledged and took a seat on the sofa across from them.

  “Lord Winchester. Dinner has not yet been announced, in case you were wondering.”

  “Thank you for informing me. I am relieved.” He looked anything but. He watched her very carefully.

  “Do you like my dress?”

  “You look lovely this evening.” His eyes narrowed slightly.

  “As do you. Your green waistcoat brings out your eyes.”

  “Thank you, Lady Lucy.”

  “Please, call me Lucy. I hate formalities this far from London.”

  “Yes, as you said. However, I don’t think it appropriate,” he said quietly.

  As of yet, they hadn’t garnered much attention, but Lucy would swear her mother was listening. Thea, too.

  “Why not? Are we not friends?” Lucy knew she was toeing the line.

  “My dear, don’t pester Lord Winchester for having impeccable manners,” her mother broke in.

  “Impeccable? If he’s befriended Jonathan, he cannot care that strongly for manners—or witty conversation.”

  She heard the rumble of his quiet laughter. Triumph filled her.

  “Lucy, please. I already feel a headache coming on,” her mother begged.

  Lucy reined herself in, but not before shining a smile toward Lord Winchester.

  His lips twitched in return, but that was all. He was determined to resist her. That was fine. She didn’t think she could win him in one night. All the best things are worth fighting for.

  Dinner was quiet, her mother did develop a headache, and as they returned to the drawing room, her mother retired leaving Lucy and Thea to their own devices. It wasn’t long before Lord Winchester and Jonathan joined them, their father having retired as well.

  “I hope it is nothing more than a headache,” Thea said with concern.

  “I gather it’s nothing. My mother has a fierce constitution and is rarely ill.”

  “That is true,” Jonathan agreed. “How shall we entertain ourselves? Cards?”

  “If you will excuse me, I’m going to step out for a smoke while our evening’s entertainment is decided,” Lord Winchester announced and stood to leave.

  “How about charades?” Lucy suggested while she watched Lord Winchester depart out of the corner of her eye. Thea and Jonathan nodded in agreement. “I feel a chill. I’m going to fetch my wrap. Thea, would you like one as well?”

  Thea nodded. “I will come with you.”

  “Don’t leave poor Jonathan alone. I shall only be a moment.”

  Lucy casually left the room while Thea and Jonathan discussed games to play. Once she was no longer in sight, Lucy hurried toward the nearest location a man might enjoy a smoke. Her father’s study was just down the hall, and light spilled out from the open door. She slowed as she neared, pausing beside the door and looking in. He squatted before the fire, using the poker to rearrange the logs. As she watched, he pulled a cheroot from his jacket and lit it in the fire. She greedily watched him, entranced by the flickering light over his profile. She wanted to touch his face, to feel the planes of his cheeks under her hands, the sweep of his lips under her fingertips.

  “I knew you’d come,” he said quietly.

  Lucy wasn’t sure he was speaking to her, but she entered anyway and closed the door softly behind her. “I felt in need of another lecture regarding how I shouldn’t be attracted to you.”

  His jaw tightened as he stood, but Lucy had a feeling he was also amused by her.

  “Ah, so now you are willing to admit it.”

  “Yes. You are the last person I should hide it from.”

  “The first being your parents, your brother, your friends… Did you stop to consider why you should hide it?”

  Lucy stopped by her father’s favorite chair and lightly fingered the worn seam on the top corner as she considered his words. She knew he was trying to force her to admit he was unsuitable, but she didn’t believe that for a moment. It was she her family didn’t trust, not him.

  “It isn’t for the reasons you’d like it to be.” She looked up and caught his stare. She strolled forward until she stood before him, hands clasped before her. She wanted to reach out and touch but feared his rejection.

  “What is the reason?”

  She bit her lip to hide a smile. “The first reason is that it’s clear you’ve yet to accept your attraction to me.”

&n
bsp; His lips twitched, but his face remained impassive. “Have I? Or am I only trying to spare your feelings?”

  Lucy stepped closer, testing the invisible bubble of intimate space between them. “Don’t do me the disservice of playing gently with my feelings. Nothing I’m feeling is gentle.”

  He was silent for a moment. The air between them felt heavy and warm. He sighed and stepped back, turning toward the fire. “You’re putting me in a very difficult position.”

  “I promise it will be worth it in the end.” Lucy smiled.

  “What end? Our wedding? White tulle and roses, a sprawling country house, a passel of children in the nursery… Is that what you envision when you look at me?” he said angrily.

  “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

  “Then what is it you want, Lady Lucy? A roll in the grass, a dalliance under the noses of your family? Is that what excites you? I know your kind. You snub your nose at your gilded cage, determined to destroy it with no real idea of what it is like to live outside it.”

  “You’ve come to such a conclusion about me in such little time. Is that what my brother told you?”

  “Your brother is under the impression you suffer from the burden of having beauty and brains.”

  “And you don’t agree.”

  “I tried to warn you. I am not your toy. I am not your diversion. There are serious repercussions for your actions. Permanent. Life altering.

  “I am serious.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Gladly.” Lucy closed the space between them, stepping between him and the hearth. She put one hand to his chest and set her lips to his. There was no explosion of emotions or all-consuming passion. His lips didn’t move against hers, but at least they felt soft and warm. He stood as still as a statue. She pulled away and hid her disappointment behind a confident smile. “Not the best kiss I’ve ever had, nor the worst.”

  He tugged her away from the fire and put distance between them again. “Little girl, you are in over your fool head.” He left her standing in the study alone.

  Dean quit the house, stepping out a side door into the cool evening air. He relit his forgotten cheroot and puffed hungrily.