‘I remember him saying to you that it wasn’t over, that he’d be seeing you again.’
‘If he said that, then it will more than likely turn into a point of pride with him to make good on his boast.’
‘I don’t think he was boasting—more a statement of fact. Perhaps he’ll change his mind—he might think it’s too great a risk to take to seek you out for whatever evil purpose. If he should reappear, what will you do?’
‘Unless he can settle his debts to me, I shall have him arrested.’
‘I remember that night at the Skeffington ball so clearly. From my own observations I know what happened is not forgotten and that I am likely to be ostracised when I attend my first society event—the Wilmington ball, as a matter of fact. Aunt Caroline has high hopes for me and is quite determined to make me a success. She will not be satisfied unless the King himself proposes marriage.’
‘Then she must remember that the King has been declared mad and his son, the Prince Regent, has a wife—although he is not averse to the odd mistress or two,’ he said with some amusement. ‘As for you being ostracised—I can’t say since I don’t listen to gossip, although I sincerely hope it is forgotten. What happened was not your fault.’
‘No, it was not, although those who witnessed that unfortunate game of cards didn’t think so—or the fact that we were observed on the terrace earlier.’
Christopher frowned, his expression serious. ‘I know that and because of the harm it did you, I deeply regret it. What else can I say?’
She shrugged. ‘There is nothing you can say. One thing I have learned is that society is neither discerning nor kind. I was branded a woman of easy virtue. When my aunt launches me into society I shall be at the mercy of the ton. If my indiscretion is remembered and I am censured, my reputation will be in shreds and everyone will cut me dead. If that happens, then I can see nothing for it but to leave London and live in shamed seclusion in the country.’
‘I very much doubt that will happen. If I happen to be present, then you can rest assured that I will do the gentlemanly thing and come to your rescue.’
‘That’s reassuring, but I’m used to using my head and fighting my own battles. Although why life should be plagued by gossips puzzles me. The gossips are like vultures. They watch everything one does, take note and remember it and embellish it and feed off it for evermore.’
‘Which seems grossly unfair that you will be ostracised while the unprincipled reprobate who brought so much censure should have walked away scot-free.’
‘Is it Mr Barrington you are referring to or yourself?’
‘Both, I suppose. We neither of us did you any favours that night. I sincerely hope it is all forgotten.’
‘My thoughts exactly, although heaven preserve me from such scrutiny. Aunt Caroline has been walking on air since our return—but I know she is concerned about how my reappearance into the ranks will be received. They really might decide to give me the cut direct. I have not set my hopes too high that all is forgotten. I should hate them to be disappointed.’
‘That won’t happen.’
‘It might.’
‘Don’t tempt fate.’
‘I have a sneaking feeling that fate likes to be tempted.’
‘That’s just your opinion.’
‘I dare say it is, but then I never did care for the opinions of others. I am a realist, an individualist, and I will defy those who try to discredit me. So you see, Christopher, here I am, fresh from my travels, all grown up at last and prepared to do battle with whatever is amusingly called polite society throws at me.’
‘And full of common sense.’
She smiled. ‘Not as much as you appear to think.’
‘I am sure you are.’
‘You have not seen me for a whole year. How can you think that?’
‘Because I know a good deal about you. You told me, remember.’
‘I was fresh out of school then—still a child in many ways.’
‘That may be, but you have never been far from my thoughts while you have been away.’
Lucy laughed. ‘How gallant you are, Christopher.’
‘Not at all. When I first saw you I had never met anyone like you.’
‘I certainly had never met anyone like you—but then I wouldn’t, would I, being fresh out of the schoolroom?’ She paused and looked at him steadily. ‘The truth is that I have thought of you also. It is hard not to think of someone who has saved one’s life.’
‘Now you exaggerate.’
‘Indeed I do not. Remember the horse that nearly ran me down on our first meeting—and you were the one I ran to when I needed a friend. I had no one else and you sustained me during those days. I will be eternally grateful to you for that—and you were right to send me away, telling me to live life to the full—although I didn’t think so at the time.’ She thought back to that moment when he had sent her away. He hadn’t wanted her then. Why would he do so now? Her pride brought her head up high and she looked him directly in the eye. ‘So you see, in a way you did me a favour.’
‘I did?’
‘Yes. And I must thank you for being so frank with me.’ Lucy watched his dark brows lift in surprise at her bluntness, and she could not suppress a hint of satisfaction.
His expression softened. ‘That didn’t stop me missing you.’
Something in his voice made her pause. What was it she heard? Longing? Emotion? Regret? Trying to imply that she was indifferent to him was no easy matter, but she was resolved to keep him at arm’s length. She would not humble herself at his feet and pride—abused, stubborn pride—straightened her back and brought her head up high as she met his steady gaze. But she noted that as they talked, she could feel an extraordinary lassitude creeping over her. She was unsure what it meant, except that it was a warning. She ought to put an end to it quickly.
Christopher made a choked sound that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and Lucy’s sense of satisfaction evaporated. She had wanted her words to sting.
‘I see you have not lost your tongue, Lucy,’ he commented, a wry note in his voice.
‘I was not aware that I had,’ she answered at once. ‘To my knowledge my tongue has always remained firmly in my mouth and I am not likely to curb it for your sake.’
He laughed outright. ‘Heaven forbid you would do that. I would not wish it.’
‘Then I won’t. Now tell me, have you managed to sell your ship?’
He nodded. ‘Shortly after you left for France.’
‘And how is your grandfather—in good health, I trust?’
‘He does remarkably well and takes comfort in having Amelia around. Speaking of which,’ he said, pulling his horse further away from the carriage when his sister joined him, ‘here she is.’ He turned his attention to Lady Sutton, who had climbed back into the carriage and taken her seat across from Lucy. ‘I am happy to meet you again, Lady Sutton. I was just enquiring of Lucy if you enjoyed your travels abroad.’
‘We had a splendid time—did we not, Lucy? There was so much to see—so many friends to meet and to be introduced to Lucy. And here we are, back in London and ready to enjoy what is left of the Season.’
‘And you must,’ Amelia said enthusiastically. ‘You must also visit Rockwood Park again soon. I know Grandfather would be delighted if you would.’
‘Thank you,’ Lucy replied by way of being polite, but knowing that as things stood between her and Christopher it was unlikely to happen. But she was immediately transported back to the time she had spent there and the happy memories that crowded into her mind, memories of a time when she had temporarily put aside her fears.
They talked some more of inconsequential things before they had to move on since their carriage was causing an obstruction, but not before Amelia had said how she was looking forward to seeing them at the Wilmington ball the followin
g week.
* * *
Christopher stared after the carriage with a firestorm of emotions erupting from his heart, searing their way through every vein and artery. He could not believe the change in her. Could the stylish goddess of a creature, as breathtakingly elegant as a fashion picture, with her gleaming dark hair swept back and up in a perfect chignon beneath an adorable little hat, be Lucy Walsh? This was a different Lucy Walsh from the one he had known before. There was an unspoken message about her now that said, Don’t come too close.
He had hardly recognised her. She looked stunning. When she had been at Rockwood Park one year ago, he had told himself that their relationship was over and done with. But it was not as simple as that. She might have disappeared from his sight, but he had been unable to banish her from his heart and mind, and he resented her for having the power and the ability to do that. Although he had not seen her for so many months, the image of her had remained fixed in his mind as if carved in stone. Ever since he had known her she had stirred his baser instincts and during her absence he had found himself beset by visions of her. As much as she ensnared his thoughts, he found his dreams daunting to his manly pride, for she flitted through them like some puckish sprite.
* * *
The evening of the Wilmington ball arrived. Having sat for what seemed like hours in front of the dressing table mirror, watching as her maid painstakingly arranged her hair into an elegant coiffure, Lucy turned her attention to the gown she was to wear. It was a vibrant, off-the-shoulder peacock silk which brought out the bronze lights in her rich dark hair. It set off her figure to perfection and Lucy turned this way and that in front of the cheval mirror to survey her reflection.
‘What do you think, Aunt Caroline? Will I do?’
Lady Sutton stood back to take a good look. Lucy was already beautiful, but tonight she looked positively breathtaking, daring, elegant and special. ‘Indeed you will. Any man who sees you tonight, looking as you do, will surely be unable to take his eyes off you. Here,’ she said, producing a narrow box and opening it to reveal a necklace, a single row of diamonds with an oval-shaped pendant, and matching drop earrings. ‘I would like you to wear these. My husband gave them to me as a wedding present. I would like you to wear them tonight. They will complement your gown and your hair.’
Lucy fingered them at her throat. They were hard and cold and exquisite in their beauty. The earrings brushed her cheeks and the pendant rested just above her breasts.
‘They’re lovely, Aunt Caroline. Thank you.’
She smiled. ‘Nothing but the best for you tonight, Lucy. Nothing but the best.’
Chapter Nine
Waiting for Amelia, who had disappeared into the ladies’ retiring room to adjust her gown, promising him that she wouldn’t be long, Christopher lounged against a pillar at the top of the stairs, idly watching the arrival of the glittering cream of London society into the hall below. Raising a lazy brow on seeing Lady Sutton enter, his eyes slid to the young woman by her side. On recognising Lucy he slowly drew himself upright. A cool vision of poised womanhood, attired in a peacock-blue dress and glittering diamonds, and undeniably the most magnificent woman he had seen, though it was not the way she looked that drew his eye, since the distance between them was too great for him to see her features clearly. It was the way she tossed her imperious head, the challenging set to her shoulders and the defiant stare that did not see those about her.
Smiling to himself, he stood and watched her as she walked beside Lady Sutton—though walked hardly described the way she moved, for she seemed to glide effortlessly, her body eternally female in its fluid movements, her slippered feet barely touching the ground.
* * *
Less than half an hour in the crowded ballroom, Lucy was painfully aware of the extent of her disgrace. She could feel everyone looking at her, talking about her. She chose to ignore the stares and whispers of impropriety, but it was a long way from Paris and Italy when she had been surrounded by admiring beaux. Those friends and acquaintances who did not wish to distance themselves from Lady Sutton were polite and courteous, but didn’t hesitate to ignore Lucy even though, unbeknown to her, some had a grudging admiration for the way she had come tonight.
Before she had stepped down from the carriage Lucy had already declared war on those who still held her in contempt. The days leading up to tonight and the painstaking efforts she’d made in order to look her best, had set her nerves on edge and she was in no mood to back down when faced with their unacceptable attitude which continued to provoke her. She had entered the ballroom with an air of cool composure and when their eyes rested on her for only an instant before sliding away with a kind of contemptuous disregard, even though she kept her head high and her shoulders straight, something was dying inside her. She wanted to run from the house, but she would not give these strangers, these brittle, sophisticated strangers who resented her intrusion into their select society, the satisfaction of seeing how affected she was by their censure.
Lady Sutton moved closer to her side. ‘It’s very much as you thought it would be, Lucy. How are you bearing up?’
‘I’m fine, Aunt Caroline,’ she replied in a voice that belied her calm expression and made it obvious to her godmother that she was deeply affected by the cruelty directed at her.
The minutes dragged by. There was the same exchange of polite inanities, of pointless bursts of laughter and the fluttering of fans as ladies cooled their flushed faces in the heat generated by so many bodies crowded together and the warmth of the night. The large ballroom, adorned with huge banks of flowers, glittered at its most brilliant in the light of the immense crystal chandeliers ablaze with innumerable candles. Her eyes were drawn to Christopher’s tall, urbane figure in a plain, but perfectly cut black coat. His shoulders were squared with rigid hauteur, his hands clasped behind his back, the candlelight gleaming on his dark hair. His face was expressionless and for a brief moment their eyes met. He lifted his eyebrow and she was certain his lips quirked in the merest of smiles. He did not approach her—she suspected this was because he had no wish to draw attention to the two of them being seeing together, but his presence was reassuring.
‘I think I will just go to the ladies’ retiring room, Aunt Caroline. Excuse me.’ She moved away, threading her way thought the throng in the entrance to the ballroom. Nothing penetrated her thoughts, for her mind was turning like a disembodied wraith through everything but the quandaries which she faced.
* * *
The Duke of Rockwood had been highly thought of and respected in his day and in their eyes this handsome grandson of his who had appeared within the midst of London society over a year ago—a rich and worthy prospect for mothers with unmarried daughters—could do no wrong. As far as Miss Walsh was concerned—an unknown American girl, an upstart who was of no consequence as far as English society was concerned, especially those who had been present at the Skeffington ball and who was, in their opinion, sadly lacking in moral standards—she was the guilty party. The only thing that saved her from being cut completely was that Lady Sutton was well liked and respected within society and she had a reputation for being both fair and honest in her dealings with others.
Christopher knew all this. From across the room, having witnessed her humiliation, he watched Lucy leave. Assured that Amelia was all right as she was twirled about the floor in the arms of an attentive beau, he made his way to Lady Sutton.
‘How is she?’
‘How do you think she is? This is worse than I expected. Everyone is whispering about how infamously wanton she was a year ago and now here she is again, tainting good society with her indecency. Lucy is going through the motions and behaving as if nothing untoward is happening, while all the time she is drowning in humiliation.’
‘She is a courageous young woman for putting herself through this.’
‘Yes—especially when you—along with Mr Barrington—had a ha
nd in her downfall. She has certainly been fed to the wolves by coming here tonight.’
Christopher flinched. He said nothing to defend himself for what she said was true. Thoughts of his mother came to mind when she had sought to share her wisdom she had gained from her own experiences, teaching her son not merely with words but through example. Above all she had shown him the true meaning of duty and honour, which Christopher had put into practice many times in his daily life—the same duty and honour that had been absent in his treatment of Lucy when he had left her to shoulder this damning situation. It had been remiss of him and he reproached himself most severely, but he had hoped everything would have been forgotten.
‘I really should have known better,’ Lady Sutton said. ‘I could not have been more wrong. I should not have taken it upon myself to defy the whole ton and introduce her back into the ranks. There is no lack of beaux here tonight, but not one will partner her.’
‘I have done her a great disservice and I have no choice but to rescue her from what she is suffering now.’
‘And how do you propose to do that?’
‘If I am to make things right for her it is important to play out a charade and appear casual. Since I can’t stop the gossip about what happened that night, I have to set out to turn it about, to ensure the attention is directed in the way I want it directed.’
Lady Sudden looked perplexed. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about.’
‘The time has come to stem the gossip, to dispel this nonsense that is in danger of ruining Lucy completely. Leave it with me.’
* * *
Lucy was just leaving the ladies rest room when she met Amelia coming in.
‘Lucy! How lovely it is to see you. You mentioned you were coming when we met in the park. Is this your first ball since arriving back in London?’
A Viscount to Save Her Reputation Page 17