by Lily Holland
“Here,” I say gesturing toward a bench of granite.
I follow her as she sits down and passes her hand on her face.
“I… it is not at all what happened,” she mumbles. “I have always thought the only one to blame in this matter was you. I thought you had been unfair to my friend somehow, interceding against her to your fellow gentleman.”
“I had no reason to,” I say and she shakes her head.
“You looked so stiff, I presumed you were to think Esther wasn’t good enough for your friend since she was only from a tradesmen family and had no title in her family.”
She waits for a few seconds before going on.
“I did dance that night with many young men, but I only did so to allow my friend to spend some time with Sir Edward. From where I stood, Esther was in love with him and he was showing her many signs of affections that cannot have been mistaken. I was only trying to give them some alone time and I was convinced you were the one putting a spoke in my wheel, taking them apart as I tried my best to bring them together.”
I shake my head when she rests her gaze on me and she sighs.
“I would have never believed you to think me so needy of attention,” she says without looking at me.
I shrug before answering.
“It appeared the only logical explanation at the time.”
She nods and details my face as I do the same and we both lose ourselves in a long silence while we can hear chatter and laughter some strides away.
“I have to apologize, Miss Lucy. I realize today I have been wrong about you for a long time.”
“Oh, I am the one who should apologize, Your Grace. I have been hating you for so long and for apparently no reason at all! I feel so silly it makes my chest ache.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I say calling her eyes back to me. “We both made a mistake but it is now cleared. Maybe we can leave it in the past?”
Her eyes cross mine, her hands clenched so hard on her lap she must be hurting her joints and her face telling the weight of her culpability.
“Maybe we can, indeed,” she says bowing her head. “I am so sorry I misjudged you so, Your Grace.”
“Andrew.”
Her eyes shoot to mine and she studies my features for another long minute. Gathering all the courage available in my heart, I stretch my hand toward hers and invite her to take it.
“Maybe we can be friends from now on, rather than mortal enemies.”
She laughs at my words and presses her palm into mine and a wave of heat travels over my entire body. She doesn’t move and I don’t either, the energy circulating through our connected hands too strong to be interrupted.
Carefully, I drive her knuckles to my lips while I keep my eyes in hers. Her breath catches up as I kiss her skin and I cannot fight a wave of wellness from overcoming my heart.
When I inch back and take my lips off her hand, her gaze doesn’t leave me and our noses end up very close. It wouldn’t take much effort to be kissing her now, right now and here… I want to and, as I see a flame of desire dancing in the depth of her eyes, I know she wants to feel my mouth on hers as much as I do.
When my nose brushes against hers, she closes her eyes and I imitate her, the moment is filling me with a thrilling anticipation and I already drown into the softness of her skin. My lips an inch from hers, the resonating sound of a conversation very close to us makes us both lean back and breaks the connection.
She looks down at her hands before gazing back up and offering me a gentle smile.
“We should join the others,” she says and I agree in a nod.
I stand up and offer her my arm she accepts with a wide grin. We walk back to the house and, as her frail hand squeezes on the fabric of my jacket, I realize my mind has been wrong about her for years but my heart has known the truth all along. It has always been only her.
Chapter 10
Andrew Mirabeau, Duke of Peicester
Going home tonight feels more painful than ever. When I bow to wish Lucy and her parents a good night, my eyes follow hers and we can’t seem to gaze away. Something has happened to us in the course of a single afternoon, and I cannot start to fully comprehend it.
I get back home and sit in my study but the ledgers in front of me appear blank to my eyes. Only thoughts of Lucy occupy my mind and her pretty face seems to be engraved in my memory in a very intrusive fashion.
I lean back in my chair and sigh in relief as I recall today’s events. A smile devoid of logic spreads on my lips and a sweet warmth surrounds my heart. I am indubitably happy tonight.
“Do you wish to have your supper served here, Your Grace?”
My eyes blink open as Mrs. Low remains in the threshold and I clear my throat before shaking my head.
“No, I’ll eat in the dining room.”
“As you wish.”
The maid nods and curtsies before walking away but I catch her cocked eyebrow as she looked at me. Are my heart’s inclinations thus obvious? Maybe, I don’t know and, frankly, I don’t care.
I have been so stupid to think Lucy Devinan was heartless. At the light of her own version of the events, I can now see she is the very opposite of the cold-hearted woman I thought her to be. To reflect on her opinion of me for the last three years makes me shiver but I reassure my heart thinking of how good it felt to have her hand in mine and kiss her skin.
A terrible quiproquo has kept us apart for so long, would our lives have been different if we hadn’t misjudged each other? Would we, in the end, have indulged in our mutual attraction when the opportunity arose of us marrying for business reasons? I don’t know, I can’t know.
The only thing I know is that it took us apart while we could have been so good together.
Thinking I could never love her was a mistake, probably the roughest mistake I have ever made in my life. I don’t know if it promises good things are to come for the future, but now that my mind is freed from the last prejudices I held against her, my heart is booming in my chest and its ardor harder to contain. I am irreducibly falling in love with her.
◆◆◆
The next day brings a new sunny September day and I rack my brains to find a way to cross Miss Devinan’s path without delay. Visiting her at her parents’ house would probably lack finesse and I don’t wish to appear inopportune in any case. No, I need to subtly meet her. I still need to make sure my feelings are shared. She did not seem reluctant to be near me yesterday, that is true, but she is a graceful, elegant woman. Her good education has doubtlessly prevented her from running away from me even if it was her biggest wish.
Yet, I don’t believe that. She was nice to me yesterday, kind even and she implied many things to encourage my heart to feel for her. Yes, she must be sharing my love but to be sure, I have to see her, gauge her, read her eyes to know her heart.
I pace my study for at least two hours before the solution appears to me as clear as daylight. At once, I sit down and grab my quill.
[Dear Lord Feaston,
I hope this letter finds you well and proud, I have just received your letter stating you are the happy father of a newborn son. […]
I need your help, my friend. Don’t fret, nothing of the financial sort yet a more surprising request. I believe you know Lord Devinan, as we all do. I must ask you for a very personal reason if you would be willing to invite him and his family to the ball you are organizing next week.
You will, I have no doubt, probably have already guessed the final object of my request, but I shall simply put it in the following terms: I need to see Miss Devinan without appearing pressing in her family’s eyes and I hoped you could help me with this matter.
I hope Lady Feaston is faring well after the birth and I am rejoicing in seeing your future heir with my own eyes. If you are unable to accede to my request, rest assured it shall not weigh over our friendship. I am only asking and you are well in your right to refuse.
I offer you my sincere congratulations, etc.<
br />
Your hoping friend,
Andrew]
I seal the letter and sent it off as quickly as I can. When John’s reply gets in the mail the next day, I am thrilled beyond words. He argues it will be his honor to invite the Devinans and that Charity is happy to know I have set my eyes on someone as pretty and kind as Miss Devinan.
As everything is set and I know I will see her again and soon, I get restless. I think about the words I want to tell her, the feelings I want to confess and the best way to do it but I am not sure of how to say all that must be said. One minute after the other, I get a feeling of excruciating anticipation keeping me excited for our next meeting.
What will she look like next week? Will my plan succeed or will she refuse to go to the ball on the pretext of her fragile ankle? Doubts mingle in my mind but my heart reinsures me.
She doesn’t know, but now there is no more space left for any doubt: I have fallen for her and, from my very despair, she has become my most hearty thought.
Chapter 11
Miss Lucy Devinan
A bright smile stretches my lips as I go down the stairs. A few days ago, we have received a surprising invitation from Lord Feaston. My father knows him pretty well but he had not been expecting the man to host a ball so soon after his wife gave birth to their first son. It has been more than a month now, but women do like to keep from prying eyes right about the trying time of childbirth.
I meet my mother in the dining room as she is speaking to my father.
“Are you ready to go, my dear?” wonders my father and I smile in agreement.
“Well, Lucy darling, if you aren’t a vision tonight!” exclaims my mother. “This dress is absolutely beautiful, you are ravishingly distinguished.”
She nods as she reviews my clothes and I take no notice of it. My father mumbles some quick compliments before excusing himself to check on the carriage before it is time for us to get going.
“You seem very excited at the thought of tonight’s ball,” she says arching an eyebrow.
I shrug, trying my best to keep my face neutral and my heart rate steady.
“I am pleased Lord Feaston invited us. I haven’t danced for what seems like ages because of my ankle.”
“Yes, yes…”
She lets her voice die but mama’s eyes are focused on my face and I know she is looking for something very precise, the hint that I am hiding something, a deeper feeling I am not confiding in her.
“Well, as long as you don’t exert yourself too much, your foot should be fine.”
“Oh yes,” I assure her, “I will not be taking any chance if I feel any pain, don’t worry.”
She is nodding with a pleased expression when my father comes back into the room and announces we are all set and ready to leave.
The carriage leads us to Lord Feaston’s estate and I stare in great marvel at the beauty of the landscape. When the man greets us upon our arrival, I am surprised to see Lady Feaston standing by his side and looking as fresh and lively as if she hadn’t given birth only a few weeks prior.
They both welcome us with great warmth and while her ladyship engages in further conversation with my mother, Lord Feaston exchanges some political views with my father.
I wander off as I greet some people of my acquaintance among which my great friend Miss Jenkins and, right on the left corner of the room, I catch sight of the Duke occupying my mind most of the time nowadays.
I notice him but he hasn’t noticed me just yet. I smile as my stomach clenches, the anticipation making butterflies swarm in my belly and my palms get moist at the simple thought of hearing his voice and looking at his eyes.
I have been excited for tonight’s event ever since I have read in one of my friend’s letter that the Duke of Peicester, Andrew Mirabeau, will be attending the ball. I have been eager to see him since last time we have met, the feeling that even if we have finally talked our issues over, a deep sense of incompleteness remains.
I would not be able to deny that I don’t intend to dance either. I have missed it dearly and, should I be honest, I would gladly admit that this night combines everything that might require my heart to be entirely happy. A dance with the Duke would make it a grandiose night.
I walk to him as bluntly as I can, but someone cuts my way and I have to slide against the door to get past them. I edge closer to my Duke standing with another gentleman on the corner of the room a smile on both their faces.
“… so I guess it worked just as well as you expected,” says the man accompanying the Duke who snorts at his comment.
“That’s not how I would have said it but if you say so.”
“Come on, Andrew, don’t be a spoilsport! You cannot tell me you are not happy at how the situation is presenting itself from now on. It all suits your plan pretty well, doesn’t it?”
Mirabeau shrugs while the other man, taller and with an elegant air, clicks his short, clean nails on the glass between his hands.
“If you end up marrying the Devinan girl,” he adds, “surely you will get access to the mining terrain we need and get to marry the daughter of the man who told you no. Don’t tell me you won’t get any pride out of it, I would not believe you.”
Blood leaves my face as I stop a few feet away from their position and freeze. I don’t hear the answer the Duke makes to that comment but I am not sure I want to hear his voice anymore. Suddenly, I am excessively cold. The noise around appears unbearable and my mouth dries out. Worse of all, my heart clenches so much I feel so stupid I believe I could faint.
And I wanted to trust him, believe we could put our old rivalries behind us and start anew… How stupid I was! How silly and insensible of me to even dare try… He never saw more in me than the cold-hearted girl he always thought me to be. The last time we met, and the many times before that, he was only playing me for business purposes. A way to get access to a mine, that’s all that I am…
Sadness soon succeeds to anger in my heart as I start withdrawing when the Duke catches sight of me.
“Miss Lucy?”
I cross his gaze and our eyes lock for a few seconds. He frowns and, after a few moments he spends scrutinizing my upset face, he must understand the reason of my affliction.
I turn to leave the room but he closes the distance between us, leaving his friend by himself in the corner. I don’t look back behind me and head for the massive French door opening on the fresh September evening already turning the sky darker by the second.
“Miss Devinan,” calls the Duke behind me, “please wait!”
I stop by a bush tree. There are not many places for me to go outside considering the faltering lights of the day. I sigh as he joins my side and he tries to touch my arm.
I jump away, away from his grip, from his touch, the hand he has used to grab mine a week ago and kiss my knuckles today feeling like a hot iron on my skin.
“Don’t you dare!” I shout and his brow creases.
“Miss?”
He lunges forward as I try to walk around him and his strong hands close on my shoulders, holding me back close to him.
“Stop your nasty game, Your Grace,” I eruct.
He stares at me and blinks, lost on what might be the catalyst of my fury.
“I have heard you,” I say simply.
“Heard me?”
I nod and flee his gaze. I don’t want to be looking in his eyes right now, I fear the blue of them is going to make me lose my point and that is not what I need.
“Over there,” I say pointing back at the house behind us, “talking with a gentleman I believe to be a dear friend of yours.”
He doesn’t say a thing and simply observes me. When I look back at his eyes, I cannot read them, he is closed to me, I feel he has always been.
I sigh loudly, all the anger I was feeling a second ago vanishing into thin air. What is the point? I fix my eyes in his and offer him a broken smile.
“There is no reason to lie anymore,” I say softly. “I have heard
everything and, truly, I understand. I am a means to an end, a tool for you to improve your business and make sure to make more profits. I don’t blame you!” I add quickly as he opens his mouth to speak. “I truly don’t,” I ensure him. “It is only that… Well, after our talk last time, I thought we… Never mind.”
I swallow at a lump in my throat as I take a step back and he lets his hands fall to his sides. I look at his face and notice his jaw is tightly clenched.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” I say with what I try to give as a determined gaze, “but I am not some good to be sold away. I…”
I want to speak, add something, but I have just crossed his gaze and a wave of sadness washes over me. Even in the pale light of the falling night, his eyes are beautiful. I wanted to see them again so badly, now that my wish has been granted, I realize it is probably the last time I will ever see them.
I shake my head as I must control and hold back tears from spilling out of the corner of my eyes and turn away to leave. This entire masquerade has lasted long enough. My fists clenched by my side, I gasp when he grabs my arm to hold me back and face him once more, except this time I don’t have the will to fight him.
“You are mistaken, Miss Lucy, if you believe those words coming out of your mouth.”
I grit my teeth as I look away.
“I believe them very much.”
“Then you are incredibly wrong.”
My gaze shoots to his face as I stare at his regular features and shake my head.
“How could it be?” I wonder, my voice breaking as my pained heart can’t hide its deception anymore. “I have heard you with my own ears.”
“What you have heard is my friend and business partner reacting to the confession of my love for you.”
I blink as I focus on his eyes and my brows crease in a thin line.
“How come?” I ask, my voice ill-assured.
“Ernest is a man of opportunities,” he tells me and I feel his fingers on my arm warming my skin through my long glove. “He believes everything one does must have been thought through and through but I can ensure you this isn’t something I have thought through.”
