The Likelihood of Lucy (Regency Reformers Book 2)

by Jenny Holiday

  “I went to your house looking for you,” Trevor said to Lord Blackstone.

  “And I told him that you’d come here!” exclaimed Emily. “You crossed paths.”

  “I came to say that of course you’re welcome at the estate,” said Blackstone to Trevor. “Anytime—you know that.” As to the other matter you wrote me about…” He pulled the dratted letter out of his pocket and handed it over.

  The countess turned her attention to Lucy. “The gentlemen are planning a retreat to Clareford Manor. It’s on the coast in Essex. It seems Trevor has been working too hard—something I never thought I’d live to see him admit—and expressed the need for a respite. You must come, too, to keep me company.”

  “Hold off—” Trevor began.

  He was interrupted by Lord Blackstone, who was looking back and forth between Lucy and Trevor, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to smile. “A capital idea.”

  “But…” Trevor trailed off. Clearly, he did not share his friend’s enthusiasm for the plan. Lucy could hear what he was too polite to say. The respite he needed wasn’t from work; it was from her. Shame came rushing in anew.

  She wasn’t about to go where she wasn’t wanted. Regardless, there was no way she could be away from the hotel. “I thank you for your generosity, but there’s simply too much work to be done here to get ready for the opening.” Just then the footman she’d summoned appeared. She handed him Emily’s things. “For example,” she said, voice laced with annoyance, “there is clearly a great deal more staff training needed if an earl and a countess can call and no one appears to take their things.”

  “You just told me you have only two bookings, Miss Greenleaf,” said Lord Blackstone. “Surely you needn’t have the entire staff up and running in order to serve two guests. Can you not spare a few days of leisure?”

  Leisure. The idea was so impossibly luxurious. And she adored the country. She’d been to estates of the families she served, of course, but served was the key word there. She’d always been working. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had more than a single day’s holiday, and those had always been in town, and the park was a pale imitation of the true wilds of nature.

  “Two guests!” Emily exclaimed, saving her from having to demur yet again. “You can’t open a hotel as grand as this one is meant to be with two guests!”

  “One is a party of four,” Lucy offered weakly. “So it’s actually five guests.”

  “You need to have a party,” Emily declared.

  “I beg your pardon?” Trevor said, echoing Lucy’s thoughts on the matter.

  “Party isn’t even the right word. It’s not big enough. You need to have the most lavish affair. It must be completely over the top. You’ve got to throw open your doors with aplomb, with a big roar and not the quiet whimper of five guests.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucy asked hesitantly, thinking that perhaps Emily did have a point.

  “The partygoers will dine and dance and drink and gamble.” Emily paced the carpet, looking off into space as if viewing a scene the rest of them couldn’t see. “Then they stay overnight!” she exclaimed, lifting her arms as if in victory. “Or at least a select subset of them. They’ll be the Jade’s first guests. A complementary night at London’s newest and most modern hotel. We present it as an experience not to be missed!”

  “I beg your pardon?” Trevor said again, glancing at Lucy with concern in his eyes.

  The countess, still pacing, ignored him. “Their every whim will be indulged before they can articulate it. We’ll invite everyone. Everyone who’s anyone.”

  “Some among the ton don’t receive me,” Trevor pointed out.

  “Invite them anyway. I wager most will be so curious, they’ll set aside their concern with rank for an evening. And they needn’t all be noble. A place like the Jade will need an edge of mystery, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not opening the place to the demimonde if that’s what you mean,” Trevor said. “The investors are conservative men, remember. They won’t tolerate it.”

  Emily curled her lip slightly. “You don’t need to tell me that. These men and their politics! If I didn’t adore you so much and want so desperately for the Jade to succeed, I should be giving you a harder time about involving them.”

  “I think you should invite tastemakers, too,” Lucy said. She was beginning to see the wisdom of the countess’s plan.

  All eyes swung to her, including Trevor’s, which had a distinct furrow between them.

  “People like Mr. Brummel,” she continued. “He’s a trendsetter, is he not?”

  “Yes!” Emily nodded vigorously. “After that incident with Mr. Brummel and Prinny at Watier’s that was all over the papers, he’s just the right amount of scandalous!”

  “And we could invite men of business,” Lucy said, looking at Trevor. “Men like you. The aristocracy isn’t going to be your core customer base anyway, is it? Haven’t they giant houses in which to accommodate guests? Think about who travels and doesn’t have rich relations in town—industrialists.”

  “Americans,” the earl suggested.

  “Exactly!” exclaimed Emily. “You must invite the American heiresses who are in town husband hunting!”

  “I think perhaps that’s exactly what our confirmed party of four is,” Lucy said.

  “Yes! You have quite the head for this, Miss Greenleaf!” Emily clapped her hands in delight. “Your point about the aristocracy not being in need of accommodation is quite correct, though of course the rest of us hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  It was not lost on Lucy that Trevor had remained silent during the conversation. It apparently wasn’t lost on Lord Blackstone, either, because as his wife continued to plot gleefully, he turned to Trevor. “The ladies are correct.”

  Trevor glared at his friend.

  “I say this as an investor. The only way this place is going to make money is if it’s full. The way to fill it up is to make it a place people want to be—to make it fashionable among certain sets.”

  Trevor’s response was to sigh.

  “You know they’re right.”

  “Yes,” he said, voice clipped. “A party it is, then. In two weeks’ time, say? We’re meant to open August twentieth, so I suppose this should take place the night of the nineteenth?”

  Emily beamed. “Wonderful! We can plan it at the estate.”

  “No!” Lucy said. She was already beginning to panic about everything a grand party would mean. Not only would they need to ready the hotel and staff for the opening, they would need to be ready to feed, entertain, and house scores of people instead of the mere handful she’d been planning for. And even if that hadn’t been true, the last thing she wanted was to be forced to spend time with Trevor under the watchful eyes of his friends. Or to force Trevor to spend time with her when he clearly wanted nothing more than to get away from her. “I simply cannot come, though I thank you.”

  “Yes, you can!” said Emily equally vehemently. “The estate is just in Essex. It’s half a day’s travel. So we’ll go for two days, three at most. We can do all the planning there.” She shot a glance at Trevor. “If you need a respite, as you said earlier, then Miss Greenleaf does, too. Just look at how far this place has come. I can’t even begin to imagine the work she’s done.”

  Lucy tried to protest again, but the countess cut her off. “We’ll invite James and Catharine, too. You and Catharine and I can plan the whole thing from top to bottom. All we’ll have to do when we get back is execute the plan.” Emily turned to Lucy and patted her hand. “Catharine will know exactly what to do. She knows everything. She’s was a viscountess before she married James, you know.”

  “Shall I remind you that you are a countess, my dear?” Lord Blackstone said.

  “Oh, but not a real one.” Emily waved away the comment. “We’ll send the carriage at first light tomorrow.”

  “We can take mine,” said Trevor, who had apparently capitulated to Emily’s che
erful assault. The wooden smile he offered, though, suggested it was an entirely involuntary capitulation.

  “No, you can’t!” Emily protested. “You might want to court mystery with the hotel, but you don’t want to court ruin. You can’t travel unchaperoned in a carriage with an unmarried woman.”

  “Lucy isn’t an unmarried woman,” he said dismissively. “At least not in the way you mean, all missish and prone to having her delicate sensibilities shocked by the mere presence of a man.”

  Lucy, annoyed by the way everyone was talking about her as if she wasn’t standing right here, cleared her throat, hoping to remind everyone that she was actually standing right in front of them.

  “And you’re going to have to stop calling her Lucy,” said Emily. “I can, because we’re friends. But you really shouldn’t.”

  “We don’t go in for all that,” Trevor said.

  “She’s right,” Lord Blackstone said.

  “Do you know how to say anything else?” Trevor snapped.

  The earl raised an eyebrow. “It’s one thing to say you play by different rules. And it will be controversial enough that your manager is a woman. But if anyone finds out she was living here with you before the opening, before you’d even hired anyone else, you’ll be putting the Jade—and Miss Greenleaf’s reputation—in jeopardy.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” Lucy said, pitching her voice to be heard over these men arguing over her fate. “I thought perhaps it would be best if I went by Mrs. Greenleaf—at least in the hotel. Don’t housekeepers often do that, even if they never married? My intention after I help open the hotel is to secure a position as a housekeeper.”

  “I think that’s wise,” said the earl. “You should be Mrs. Greenleaf in front of the staff and the investors.”

  “Is all this really necessary?” Trevor asked.

  “You’ve been saying yourself that the investors are a conservative lot,” Lucy said. “Do they know about me yet?”

  “I’m working on it. They have to be carefully managed. I told them I’ve hired a manager, just not that it’s you.”

  “Not that it’s a woman, you mean.”

  “The dratted investors,” Emily muttered. “It’s practically blood money.”

  Trevor shot the countess an annoyed glance, which struck Lucy as out of character, given how fond of each other they seemed to be otherwise. “That’s going a bit far, don’t you think?”

  Lord Blackstone turned to Lucy. He seemed to be the only one who realized how confused she was by the exchange. “My wife is not impressed with the way a few of the investors have voted on certain matters in Lords. Their politics and hers…diverge, to put it mildly.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly. It’s just that I want so much for the Jade to be a success, and I hate the idea of you being beholden to such men!”

  Trevor’s lips pressed together. “It’s no matter.” But Lucy could tell he was bristling. He hated any insinuation that he was kowtowing, playing by the rules of polite society. She knew him—it made him feel like a lapdog.

  “Lucy,” Emily said, “I can’t disagree that taking up the title Mrs. might help smooth things over as you take up the post of manager. But what if someday you find someone you want to marry? You going as a Mrs.—will that foreclose any future opportunity to wed?”

  Lucy laughed dismissively. “It’s of no matter. I don’t plan to marry.”

  Blackstone shot a glance at his wife. “Even the best laid plans…”

  “Lucy’s life choices are informed by her interpretations of Mary Wollstonecraft,” Trevor said. Lucy suspected—hoped—that he didn’t mean to sound unkind, merely to state the facts, but all eyes swung toward him, registering various degrees of shock.

  “But wasn’t she married?” Emily looking between Lucy and Trevor. “More than once?”

  “If you asked Lucy, I think she would argue that—”

  She interrupted him. “Lucy would ask you to trust that she is an autonomous human being with no desire to wed. And no desire for this preference to be discussed by the group.”

  The room went silent. Trevor glared at her, and she suddenly felt as if the two of them were having a private conversation everyone else had somehow stumbled into. He cleared his throat and summoned an insincere smile for his friends. “Very well, then. Off to the country we go. Mrs. Greenleaf and I will expect your carriage first thing in the morning.”

  Chapter Nine

  And so it was that Trevor found himself jostling along in a closed carriage across from the very woman he’d been trying to escape. The original idea behind inviting himself to Clareford had been to put some much-needed distance between them. He just needed a day or two, after their menu-tasting encounter in the kitchen, to cool his blood. Then he could get back to normal with her—that had been his thinking. But of course, his scheme backfired, and now they were so close that her muslin-clad knee kept brushing against his. Though she didn’t seem to notice the contact, it was making him deuced uncomfortable.

  At least he didn’t have to talk to her. Emily was doing enough talking for everyone, chattering excitedly about the party. Soon they would arrive, and he could finally quiz Blackstone about the contents of the letter he’d handed Trevor yesterday.

  He watched Lucy as they turned up the estate’s long driveway. She’d been stealing glances outside whenever she could while still attending to the conversation. When Emily opened her window, Lucy followed suit. He almost laughed when she stuck her entire head out.

  When she pulled it back in a mere moment later, her face had undergone a transformation. It was hard to pin down exactly what was different, but there was a glow about her that hadn’t been there previously. She caught him looking and flashed him a small smile—one that seemed covert, meant just for him—before turning her attention back to Emily.

  God damn it. That little smile sent a thrill up his spine.

  “Three days at most, I promise, and then you can get back to the hotel,” Emily said as the carriage came to a halt. Blackstone hopped out, beating the approaching footmen and offering his hand to his wife with an exaggerated bow. “My husband does not like the country,” said Emily, smiling at Blackstone. “So he’ll be anxious to get back to town, too.”

  Blackstone helped his wife descend. “My opinions on the matter of town versus country are, in fact, evolving.”

  “I adore the country,” Lucy said with a vehemence that tugged at Trevor, and though it should have been impossible, her face glowed even more intensely as she looked around and took in the stately linden trees that lined the driveway to the graceful red brick house. “I hardly ever get the chance to rusticate, so despite my concerns about the hotel, I’m grateful for the invitation.”

  Emily took Lucy’s arm. “Let us get right to planning. If we do a good amount of work this afternoon, we can reward ourselves later with a swim!”

  The ladies disappeared in a flurry of chatter—the last thing he heard was Lucy protesting that she didn’t know how to swim, hadn’t a bathing costume, et cetera.

  Trevor knew Emily was an avid swimmer. To hear Blackstone tell it, she often swam at the Essex estate without the conventional full-length bathing costume. So now, of course, he was assailed by the image of Lucy in the lake, her brown hair made into a curtain of black by the water, her wet chemise plastered to her like a second skin.

  “Let’s go over the accounts for the Jade,” he said, following Blackstone into the house.

  “Why? We’ve done that several times. Everything is in order.”

  “Let’s do it again.”

  It was easy to feel at home at Clareford, to be seduced by Emily’s kindness and charm and swept away by her enthusiasm. Too easy.

  It took the shock of cold water to bring Lucy to her senses. “This was an ill-advised idea!” she cried, clinging to a post on the dock that extended out into the lake she’d been foolish enough to get into. Emily had assured her it was shal
low near the dock and that the posts were sturdy, but neither of these two arguments seemed as convincing as they had on dry land.

  “Oh pish.” Emily slid off the dock in one smooth motion, joining Lucy in the icy water. “It is a trifle chilly,” she said when she resurfaced, grinning.

  Lucy hadn’t even got her breath under control when she heard footsteps echoing on the dock above her. “He can’t see me in my chemise!” she exclaimed before she could think better of it.

  “He?” said an unfamiliar—feminine—voice from above. “He who?”

  “Catharine!” Emily exclaimed. “You’re finally here!”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry we’re so late. A minor issue at the school detained us. Well, perhaps not so minor—I had a teacher quit in the middle of class, if you can imagine it! Said the ‘little bastards’ had driven him to the gates of Bedlam and just walked right out! It caused quite the uproar. James wanted to wait until morning to set out, but I entreated him. I just knew you’d be out enjoying a swim at dusk!” Lucy watched in wonder as the woman shed her traveling gown and, leaving on only her chemise as Emily and Lucy had, went running down the dock and cannonballed into the water.

  When she resurfaced, squealing from the cold, Emily motioned her over. “Catharine Burnham, may I present Miss Lucy Greenleaf? Miss Greenleaf is an old friend of Trevor’s, and she’s recently been retained as manager of the hotel.”

  Lucy expected the glamorous woman to express shock, disbelief. Instead she smiled and, seemingly oblivious to the fact that all three of them were sopping wet, said, “Pleased to meet you, Miss Greenleaf. Perhaps what I need at the school is a manager. Someone to keep things in order.” She laughed. “Goodness knows our pupils could use a little order. I don’t seem to be doing a very good job!”

  “Mrs. Burnham runs a charity school,” Emily explained, as if Lucy hadn’t already heard all about the scandalous Viscountess of Vice and her reforming husband. She had allegedly been working as a high-priced lady of the evening before her interests turned to education, though Lucy knew enough not to believe the gossip that trickled down from the grand houses in which she had worked.