Goddess Curse

by RaShelle Workman

  “Your locket really stands out against the lovely shade of your dress,” Lucy commented.

  Her grandmother glanced down. “This old thing,” she said, giving Lucy’s mother a nervous look. “I need some fresh air. Will you take a turn around the courtyard with me?”

  “Of course, Grandmother,” Lucy said, ignoring the way her mother glared. She didn’t understand the tension between them.

  Agatha patted her daughter’s arm. “You needn’t worry, Kathryn. We can’t go far. I’ll have her back in time for the engagement announcement.”

  Kathryn nodded once then turned away.

  Her grandmother sighed sadly, and Lucy wanted to smack her mother. How could she be so cold and uncaring to such a warm and generous person? But then perhaps it was just her way. Her mother wasn’t warm toward her either, not like she was toward Ellen and Beaumont. Of course her mother could be kind, but she was clear on Lucy’s place in the family.

  4

  A PROPOSAL

  Lucy and her grandmother made their way outside. The courtyard consisted of a small rotunda with three steps that led down to a path lined with newly blooming rose bushes. In the center was a large fountain. The water misted the air. Lucy bent to one of the roses and leaned in, enjoying the sweet aroma.

  “Get back inside, Isabelle. If your mother knew you were out here with such a rake, she would be bedridden for a week. You don’t want to hurt your mother, do you?”

  Lucy turned back toward the entrance and noticed a couple hidden in the shadows. She watched in shock as the couple disentangled themselves. The man smirked as he straitened his jacket and adjusted his cravat. “Thank you for the kind words, Countess,” the man said. “Good evening, ladies.” His oily eyes snaked their way down Lucy’s body before he walked inside.

  Lucy cringed. The man made her skin crawl.

  Grandmother Agatha walked over to the girl she called Isabelle and fixed a tendril of the girl’s blond hair that had become disheveled. “Take a turn around the path with us before you return.”

  Isabelle curtsied.

  The three of them started walking. Lucy was in shock. How could Isabelle believe that man loved her?

  When they nearly completed their turn, Lucy’s grandmother said, “I recommend you stay away from Lord Wesley. He isn’t worth your weight in feathers, dear. Understand?”

  “He said he loved me.” Isabelle burst into tears.

  Lucy’s grandmother pulled a kerchief from the sleeve of her dress and handed it to Isabelle. “Of course he did. He knew the words would have the exact effect they did. Guard yourself, girl. Don’t let the first set of pretty words aimed in your direction cause you to lose your faculties. Be better than that.”

  “Yes’m. I will.” Isabelle wiped her eyes. “You won’t tell my mother, will you?”

  “You needn’t worry, child. I’ll hold my tongue but heed my warning. Mr. Wesley will bring you nothing but heartache.”

  “Thank you.” Isabelle took the countess’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. “You’re a dear woman.”

  Once Isabelle returned to the ballroom, Lucy and her grandmother started around the path again.

  “You handled that nicely.” Lucy wrapped her hands around her grandmother’s arm.

  Agatha patted Lucy’s hand. “If that girl doesn’t end up pregnant by Season’s end it’ll be by divine Providence.”

  “You don’t think she listened.”

  “No, I do not but never you mind.” She glanced up at the sky a moment.

  Lucy kept hold of her grandmother’s arm lest her favorite relative lost her balance. From past experience Lucy knew her Grandmother liked to collect her thoughts before speaking her mind. Lucy assumed her grandmother wanted to give her some words of wisdom regarding her upcoming engagement and was considering how to put the information graciously. To Lucy’s mind, her grandmother could take all the time in the world if that meant putting off the inevitable announcement.

  The night held a cool snap, especially when a gust of wind blustered past her. It was mid-April. The sky was surprisingly clear, allowing Lucy to see the stars. She found Cassiopeia.

  “See the moon?” her grandmother asked, caressing her locket between her fingers as she spoke.

  “No,” Lucy answered, finding the North Star as well as several other constellations. “It’s absent tonight, a new moon.”

  Grandmother Agatha smiled. “That’s right. The new moon and the full moon are divided by a fortnight and they are my favorites.”

  “Oh?” Lucy considered the darkened sky curious about what her grandmother preferred about those phases.

  “They’ve always brought me luck. Perhaps someday they will do the same for you,” her grandmother added.

  Lucy exhaled unsure what her grandmother’s ghost meant. “Perhaps.”

  Agatha moved closer. “You don’t love him, do you?”

  Lucy instantly knew her grandmother referred to Dashel and blew out a breath. If only she could love him then her life would be so much easier. “Is it that obvious?”

  “To most, probably not. I can tell you are fond of the dashing Dashel.” She chuckled at her joke. “But there’s no friction between the two of you. No heat.”

  “Grandmother,” Lucy gasped, but was unable to hide her smile because it was true.

  “Don’t play coy. It’s what makes all the difference between a bearable marriage and one filled with passion.”

  “But what can I do?” Lucy wanted a way out, but only if it didn’t hurt Dashel. He was a good man and she didn’t want to cause a scandal. Even though she knew Dashel wouldn’t care.

  Her grandmother stopped; her deep violet eyes fixed on Lucy’s. “There is so much I need to tell you. So much I know only you will understand.” Grandmother Agatha started another turn around the path. “You know, your grandfather Lawrence and I weren’t in love either.”

  “I didn’t know,” Lucy said, surprised. The way she always spoke about him led her to believe otherwise.

  “Our parents forced us into marriage, much the same way yours are doing to you.” She clucked her tongue. “I hoped your mother would allow you the chance to choose, as I did with her.”

  “My parents chose each other?” The way behaved toward one another—mom with distain and dad with indifference—Lucy never would’ve guessed her parents were in love.

  Her grandmother waved a hand in disgust. “I allowed Kathryn the opportunity to find love.” Agatha went over to the fountain and stuck the tips of her fingers in the water. Lucy followed. “Instead she sought a title.”

  That made more sense. They weren’t in love. “Perhaps love is only a notion and doesn’t truly exist.” Lucy wanted desperately to believe it was out there, but she hadn’t seen it. Not close up.

  “Oh, my darling, love exists. Sometimes it is just difficult to find.”

  “If you say so, Grandmother. My confidence in the concept is fading rather quickly.”

  Agatha gave her a serious look. “It’s out there. Trust me. That’s what I want to discuss with you. We don’t have enough time now, thanks to Isabelle’s indiscretion. Your mother will be insufferable if we don’t get back soon but come to my rooms tonight after the party.” Urgency gave strength to her grandmother’s voice.

  “It’ll be late. I don’t want to wake you.”

  “I’m an old woman but I’m not dead yet. Wake me. We need to talk. And then I’ll give you your birthday present.” Her grandmother moved quickly and Lucy quickened her steps as they headed back to the house and the stuffy ballroom. “Promise me,” she said, squeezing Lucy’s hand.

  “I promise. I’ll be up as soon as the party is over.” Whatever her grandmother had to say, it was important to her and that made it important to Lucy.

  Agatha smiled. “Good.” She paused at the edge of the dance floor, watching the dancers a moment before turning her attention to those standing along the edges.

  Lucy joined her, surprised at how crowded her parents’ b
allroom had become.

  A crush, she thought, knowing her parents were beyond happy with the party.

  “Your ball will be celebrated a raging success. Look, even the mysterious Duke of Vladimir is here.” Agatha pursed her lips, making it apparent she knew the Duke, but didn’t want to say how or why. “I’m sure you’ll get your invitation to Almack’s within the month. Be glad of that.” Her grandmother winked.

  “I am,” Lucy said, though the idea of being presented to those stuffy old bats made her sick.

  “Liar,” Agatha said with a knowing smile, her fingers caressing the locket around her neck.

  Lucy gave her grandmother an adoring look. Her grandmother’s response was one of the many reasons Lucy adored her. She understood.

  “I’ll see you later this evening.” Agatha loosened her grip on Lucy’s hand.

  “Yes, I’ll come by,” she agreed, moving toward her parents.

  Dashel stood beside them, his parents on his other side. To the untrained eye he might appear arrogant and aloof. After spending so much time with him over the years, Lucy knew he was actually quite uncomfortable. She needed to rescue him. “Mr. Rothchild,” Lucy said.

  Dashel immediately relaxed, an easy smile settling over his face. Lucy knew if they married, there would not be passion, but there would be honesty, kindness, even joy. Dashel would treat her well. Their union would be more than tolerable. Lucy knew their marriage would be more agreeable than many, including her parents’. Truthfully, she couldn’t imagine spending her life with anyone else.

  “Ready?” Dashel asked.

  “As I’ll ever be.” A consigned peace settled over Lucy.

  Her father took a glass of champagne from a servant holding a large pewter tray. At least two dozen more servants walked through the room carrying trays of glasses filled with champagne while the guests scooped them up, laughing and talking merrily.

  It occurred to Lucy that they spent a small fortune on this party, and she wondered why. Immediately the answer presented itself. They wanted to keep up appearances. On more than one occasion, Lucy heard her parents argue about her father’s gambling problem.

  “A toast,” Lucy’s father said, clinking his glass with the back of one of his rings. The music stopped and the room went quiet. Not silent though. Many of the women whispered behind their fans while the men nodded their response.

  “Thank you for coming tonight,” her father began as he scanned the room.

  Lucy did the same. “This party is special for several reasons. The first is that our lovely Lucy has turned eighteen.”

  The room erupted with cheers.

  Lucy took her cue and smiled, trying her best to look grateful.

  Once the clapping settled, her father continued, “And tonight is Lucy’s official entrance into Society. I hope you’ll take the time to get to know her. She’s a marvelous girl.”

  His words were warm, but Lucy knew the sentiment was only for the crowd. Her father never graced her with a kind word.

  “And finally, Lady Channing and I ask you to join us in celebrating the biggest announcement.” Her father paused for dramatic effect and turned to Dashel.

  He nodded to her father. It was obvious the two of them planned what was happening. Lucy’s heart raced as Dashel took her hand and placed it on his arm and then proceeded to lead her to the middle of the floor. He got down on one knee, took her hand, and pulled off the glove on her left hand.

  The whole room gasped. Girls and their mothers looked at each other. Some covered their mouths. Others spoke behind their fans. The men appeared uncomfortable. Some coughed and cleared their throats.

  “Lucy,” Dashel whispered.

  She returned her focus to him. Swallowed. “My lord,” she said nervously.

  He smiled and Lucy realized her grandmother was correct. Dashel was very dashing.

  Louder, so the entire ballroom could hear him, Dashel said, “Miss Lucy Channing. Our families have summered together for years. I’ve watched you grow from an irritating young child,” he paused for effect and the crowd laughed as if on cue. “Now you are the loveliest and most charming young woman I’ve ever met.”

  Lucy scrunched her eyes together in surprise. If she hadn’t known for a fact Dashel didn’t love her in the way husbands should love their wives, she might’ve believed he did love her.

  Dashel was still talking. “It would make me the happiest man in the world if you would consent to be my wife.”

  The proposal was sweet. Lucy felt her face get warm. Part of her wished theirs could be a marriage filled with a forever kind of love. She reflected inward, analyzing the emotion in her heart. Love settled there, but it was the kind of love reserved for family and good friends. Perhaps what she and Dashel felt for each other was good enough and the love Jane Austen wrote about in her books was as make believe as her stories. They were fiction, after all.

  Dashel pulled a ring from his pocket. It was a simple golden band engraved with leaves from his family crest. In the center was a gem the same violet shade as her eyes. It was thoughtful and beautiful.

  As she held out her hand, she noticed it shook slightly.

  “What is your answer, Miss Channing? Will you have me?” Dashel’s hand hovered near hers, waiting.

  “Yes.” She nodded for emphasis.

  The whole room erupted with shouts and cheers. Men patted each other on the back. Relieved. Like they just proposed, and their lady accepted. Lucy’s father looked proud and her mother’s eyes became misty. She dabbed at their edges with a handkerchief.

  Dashel stood and pressed a kiss to Lucy’s bare hand causing another bout of cheers.

  “Music, please,” my father commanded.

  The violins started the slow tune, followed by the cellos and the bass.

  Dashel spun Lucy. “Let’s dance, my dear.”

  Lucy beamed, her focus on Dashel’s face. He really was a wonderful dancer. Strong and liquid while still keeping every ounce of his masculinity.

  Many of the women glared at her. Lucy shrugged them off. She couldn’t blame them. Lucy just caught herself the most eligible bachelor in all of London, and she did it before the Season even started.

  To top it off, he was a duke. She should be thrilled, giddy even. Dashel was just as she always imagined her husband would look, act, and be when she was a young girl. But as she danced, she wondered whether Dashel’s actual true love was at the party.

  It hurt to think about, and she tried to focus on Dashel, but she couldn’t let it go. Not that it mattered. The deed was done. She and Dashel were engaged.

  5

  BIRTHDAY PRESENT

  Once all of the guests were gone, Lucy said goodnight to Dashel at the door, followed by her mother and father at the foot of the stairs.

  “Aren’t you coming to bed? You’ve had a busy night,” her mother said sweetly.

  Lucy knew why. She had fulfilled her obligation. Their family would no longer be destitute. Her father would avoid prison. “I’m not ready for this night to be over,” she said.

  Her father patted her shoulder awkwardly. “You’re a woman now. You can make your own choices.”

  She wanted to say, “If that’s the truth, then I’d like to break my engagement with Dashel and try to find my true love.” Instead she eyed her father, knowing the only reason he showed any kindness at the moment was that she saved him. “Thank you, Father.” She leaned in and gave him an even more awkward hug. Then she watched her parents climb the steps and retire to their bedroom. She rested a hand on the wooden banister, wondering if perhaps she should just go upstairs. She was exhausted, but she was also restless, and she still needed to see her grandmother.

  Debating a moment longer, she turned and went to the kitchen. It was a cozy room. Inviting. The fire in the stove was heating a pot of water. Lucy guessed it was for tea. Her mother allowed the staff to reuse the old stuff.

  Harriet’s mother, Gwen was the cook. She, Harriet, and two of the serving girls, hire
d to help during the family’s stay in London were leaning over a plate of leftover desserts. Lucy watched as Gwen took a bite of a raspberry cake and leaned back.

  “It’s so good.” She held out the rest. Harriet took it and popped a bite in her mouth. “Huh?”

  “It’s delicious.”

  “My turn,” one of the girls Lucy didn’t know said.

  Gwen slapped her hand. “I saw you sneaking lemon tarts earlier tonight, Ava. You’ve had enough.”

  Ava pouted, but Gwen paid her no mind. She turned to the other girl, who seemed overly shy. “Sabrina, would you like to try one?”

  “If’n the misses catches us; I’ll be turned into the streets.” Sabrina eyed the sweet with yearning but didn’t take it. Her hands wrung together nervously.

  “Go ahead, Sabrina.” Lucy stepped into the kitchen and made her way over to the group. Ava and Sabrina froze. They hadn’t learned the rules yet. The Earl and Lady Channing were strict, but Lucy, her grandmother, Ellen and Beaufort treated the staff like family.

  “Miss Lucy. How was your party?” Gwen asked as she brought Lucy into a hug.

  Gwen was a big woman, in stature as well as girth, but her eyes sparkled with joy and there was always a smile on her round face.

  Lucy hugged her back. “It was lovely, Gwen. The food was scrumptious.” To prove her point she picked up a raspberry tart and set it on her tongue. “Mmmmm.” She glanced at Sabrina. Then picked up another and urged Sabrina to take it.

  “No, mum. I’m not hungry.”

  Harriet laughed. “If’n the mistress offers you a sweet, tell her no, just as you did. But this is Lucy. She was protecting me from a furry mouse earlier this evening.”