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Harlequin Historical May 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

Page 37

by Sarah Mallory


  ‘I had no say in the matter when Sofia arrived and I was allowed to leave sooner than the other girls.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I was supposed to protect you and I failed miserably. I am only thankful that Lord Rockley was on hand to look after you. I intend to do everything in my power to make it up to you. I promise you.’

  ‘I am just happy to see you. I have missed you.’

  ‘As I have missed you. I believe Mr Barrington actually introduced you as his betrothed?’

  ‘That is so.’

  ‘It will be announced that the engagement is over.’

  ‘According to the gossip, which I have read in the newspapers, it has been reported that because of my unladylike behaviour at the Skeffington ball, Mr Barrington broke off the engagement—which, knowing how society always likes to believe the worst of a person, will go against me in the future.’

  ‘Hopefully in no time at all it will be forgotten.’

  ‘I sincerely hope so. I’m not going to sit about and wait for acceptance. I’ve decided to return to Louisiana. I have to decide what to do with Aspendale. It is mine by right.’

  ‘No one can dispute that. But we must think about what is to be done, Lucy. There is nothing in Louisiana for you any more.’

  ‘There will be papers to sign.’

  ‘That can be dealt with by a lawyer. You don’t have to go all the way to Louisiana to do that. If you decide to sell Aspendale, then we will notify your father’s lawyer to set things in motion.’

  ‘Are you to remain in London, Lady Sutton?’ Christopher asked.

  ‘For the time being. I have to consider Lucy’s future. I’m sure you realise that Lucy is not the worldly, sophisticated sort of female you will be used to. She could very easily be hurt.’

  ‘I might be young, Aunt Caroline, but I am not stupid.’

  Hearing the indignation in Lucy’s tone, Lady Sutton laughed. ‘Of course you’re not—far from it, my dear.’

  ‘You were telling me you have plans for her future?’ Christopher said.

  She nodded. ‘There is no hurry for her to land a husband. I would like to take her travelling—to see Europe. She is in mourning, but I see no reason why we can’t do that. Would you like to do that, Lucy?’

  ‘Yes—I mean...’ She glanced at Christopher, deeply disappointed that she would have to leave him and wishing he would give some indication that he didn’t want her to leave. ‘I would like to think about it.’

  ‘By the time we return from the Continent all this unpleasantness will have been forgotten. If, at that time, you still want to go to Louisiana, then that is what we’ll do. But at this point in time we will leave for London right away. You must prepare to leave, Lucy.’

  Disappointment and a deep despair that she was to be whisked away from Rockwood Park—and Christopher—overwhelmed Lucy. Her world tilted crazily. There was no room in her sights for anyone except him. Her future stretched before her in a kaleidoscope of disbelief, misery and loneliness. How was she going to bear it?

  While she had been walking with his grandfather Christopher had changed into black breeches and a plain grey waistcoat over a white shirt. The severe style emphasised the hard perfection of his body and attractive features. She took one look at him and had a feeling of longing and need so strong that she felt faint. He was so unbearably handsome, so splendid, that she wanted to fling herself against him and beg him to let her stay. She beheld the faint widening of his eyes as they turned on her, but his expression was as inscrutable as a marble mask. She found it difficult to endure his gaze, but she did, his words regarding her future in which he would have no part sounding inside her head like a death knell.

  Seeing her disappointment, with a pained expression Lady Sutton moved to her side. ‘It is for the best, Lucy.’

  ‘Would you mind if I spoke to Christopher alone?’

  ‘Of course not. I think it’s as well that you do.’ She got to her feet. ‘I believe I saw your grandfather in the garden, Lord Rockley, with a young lady I assume is your sister. I’ll go and sit with them for a while.’

  * * *

  Not until Aunt Caroline was out of earshot did Lucy get to her feet, the better to challenge Christopher. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she demanded heatedly. ‘Why are you sending me away? Are you deliberately trying to be cruel?’

  ‘If it seems that way, then you are mistaken. The last thing I want is to hurt you. Lady Sutton is right to take you away, to let what has happened die down.’

  ‘I suppose it would be naive of me to believe that would happen if I didn’t go.’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it would,’ he replied quietly but firmly. ‘I’m sorry if that hurts, Lucy, but it’s best you know how society will behave. What everyone saw at Skeffington House was a man who was down on his luck at the card tables—an everyday occurrence, I’m afraid. But what they also saw was a young woman that gentleman was betrothed to playing fast and loose with another.’

  Indignation flashed in Lucy’s eyes. ‘I most certainly was not.’

  ‘Nevertheless, that is how it looked to them and, eager for some fresh gossip to titillate their mundane lives, you became the focal point of their interest. Barrington committed a crime against you, but it is you who will pay for that crime if you remain in London.’

  ‘So I will be ostracised by everyone and not looked upon favourably as marriage material for any one of their precious sons lest I corrupt them.’

  ‘That is nonsense.’

  ‘No, it isn’t. It’s how it is. It is hard to believe and quite ridiculous that two men battled it out over a game of cards, that one of them was ruined, and before that there were people who witnessed our interlude on the terrace, yet I am the one being focused on and condemned. I hate having to obey society’s laws which seem totally absurd to me.’

  ‘Never having had to obey such rules and regulations myself I agree with you. But that’s the way of things, Lucy. You are young and exceedingly pretty. Prepare yourself for new experiences. Hopefully by the time you return to London, a dozen or more such incidents will have occurred to keep their tongues busy and you will have been forgotten. There will be a veritable army of young men on the Continent who will be more than happy to marry you.’

  ‘But I don’t want any of that. You have kissed me on occasion. Did that mean nothing to you at all?’ She wished she hadn’t mentioned that. A kiss was often as good as a declaration, a kiss with witnesses was sometimes enough to compel two people to marry.

  ‘Of course I remember and, yes, it meant a great deal to me—more than you will ever know. But it should not have happened and I am sorry. You are very lovely, Lucy, very sweet.’ He sighed. ‘I am a man with many weaknesses and there have been times when I have been unable to resist you—when I should have exerted more determination to do just that. I know that is no excuse.’

  ‘Sweet?’ She was indignant. ‘There was nothing sweet about the kiss you gave me when I went to your bedroom. You do not care for me at all, then?’

  ‘What do you want, Lucy? Do you want me to say I love you? Is that it?’

  He said the word as if it were an offence to love someone. She should have been angry at him, but all she felt was an emptiness inside her. She was also saddened that he didn’t say he loved her, but she felt a flicker of hope for he hadn’t said he didn’t love her. ‘I don’t ask that of you. Love is an emotion you have to feel.’

  ‘Lucy, you are a very beautiful young woman. How could any man not be moved when they set eyes on you? But I think that night at the Skeffington ball we were both carried away by the music and the night. As much as I wanted to repeat the offence, I told myself that it would not happen again—but it did, I know.’

  ‘Offence? I did not consider either of the kisses you gave me an offence,’ she said, knowing that she was beginning to sound irrational and unreasonable, but she coul
dn’t help it. ‘When you kissed me at the ball it was my first kiss. Yes, I will remember it always, but you should have known better.’

  ‘Yes, I should. You’ll forget it soon enough when you get to Paris and all those romantic cities Lady Sutton is to whisk you away to and you have every young fop trailing after you.’

  This was no consolation for Lucy. How gullible she had been. Why did he adopt this cold, remote attitude with her? Was it possible he was ashamed of the way he had behaved towards her and was impatient to get her off his hands, or was his hunger for her so great that he couldn’t bear to be close to her? She hoped it was the latter, but the way he was looking at her made her discount it. Another thought suddenly occurred to her that was far more disturbing than that. He was Viscount Rockley, heir to a dukedom. How could he possibly form a serious attachment to a woman whose reputation was so tarnished? Her eyes met his proudly.

  ‘You really think that as soon as the rakes and fops on the Continent begin paying me attention and whispering sweet nonsense in my ear, I will be silly and weak enough to fall at their feet?’

  ‘Not at all. I credit you with more sense than that. You are a beautiful young woman, Lucy. You will not go unnoticed.’

  His easy dismissal of her from his life raised Lucy’s ire. But it was the way he retained his arrogant superiority that was hard for her to take, when she wanted nothing more than for him to reach out and draw her to his chest and hold her, the way he had when he had comforted her when she’d been told her father had died, when he had soothed and petted her tears. Displaying a calm she did not feel, she managed with a painful effort to dominate her disappointment and accept the slap fate had dealt her. She must blot from her mind the events of the days since she had met him, the exquisite sweetness of his kiss and the overwhelming emotions he had managed to awake in her. Jerking her mind from such weakening thoughts, she looked at him.

  ‘Do you mind telling me why you are dismissing me as though I were an untouchable?’ She knew the answer, but wanted to hear him say it. ‘What have I done that makes you treat me so indifferently?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said, ‘and I cannot be accused of indifference where you are concerned. At least not intentionally. Too much has happened to you in so short a time. It’s time you faced the truth. It’s time we were honest with each other. I can’t make any promises.’

  ‘I haven’t asked you to do that.’

  ‘Lucy, a wonderful vista is opening up before you. An adventurous life. You should grasp it with both hands.’

  Lucy could hear the absolute finality in his voice that told her it would be futile to argue. There was a time not so very long ago when she had been so excited about the future Aunt Caroline had mapped out for her—seeing as much of Europe and meeting new, exciting people. It was everything she had dreamed of—but that was before she had gone to the fair and met a handsome sea captain who had stolen her heart.

  ‘I will, Christopher. I will do just that. And now there is nothing more to be said except thank you for all you have done for me. I really do not know what I would have done without you.’ Her words were of resignation, not defiance.

  Suddenly Christopher looked at her with unexpected softness. Surprised by the change in his expression, she opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her by reaching out and tilting her chin with the tip of his finger. Looking reverently down into her eyes, he said gently, ‘I hope the man you eventually fall in love with is worthy of you. I hope he is a man who will have your head spinning and your legs turning to jelly.’

  For an endless moment Lucy searched his features and for a moment her world seemed safe and secure again and warm. ‘I think,’ she whispered softly, ‘that it will be more a question of whether I will be worthy of him after all that has happened. I am also troublesome and opinionated, which might not be tolerated. But I’ve never talked to a man like I can talk to you. I’m beginning to think you are different and the only man who can understand me.’

  Christopher stared down at her, then abruptly turned, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring out of the windows into the garden, where Lady Sutton was seated on a bench in quiet conversation with his grandfather and Amelia. Uncertain of his mood, Lucy remained silent. His profile was harsh. He looked like a man in the throes of some deep, internal battle. She remembered the times when they had been close, when he had held her and comforted her and kissed her—she held that memory like a talisman against her doubts.

  ‘Thank you once again for what you have done for me, Christopher,’ she said when some time had passed and his silence became unsettling.

  Christopher turned and looked at her. ‘It was my pleasure.’

  Beneath the heavy fringe of her dark lashes, her eyes were mesmerising in their lack of guile. ‘I will never forget it,’ she said softly, her words sincere and heartfelt. He was looking at her intently and suddenly she wanted to show her appreciation in the way she had done before when he had taken her in his arms and kissed her. Taking her courage in both hands, she raised herself on tiptoe and placed her mouth on his.

  She felt his initial surprise, his withdrawal, but she kept her lips on his, feeling him respond. Gently he took her arms and drew her towards him. His lips began to move on hers. But then he raised his head and pushed her back.

  ‘No, Lucy. This has to stop. It is wrong.’

  She stared at him, her lovely face mirroring her bewilderment at his abrupt change. ‘But—I don’t understand. Why did you kiss me before and yet now you say it is wrong?’

  ‘Because it was wrong. You are young. You have your whole future before you. You have to go. I want you to go. There are some things you cannot understand.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I acted without thinking, but I am confused—you confuse me. It is clear to me now that I read too much into our friendship. I’ll know better next time.’

  Christopher’s eyes narrowed on her face. ‘Of course you will. But there won’t be a next time.’

  Angry and humiliated beyond anything she had known in her life, Lucy flinched from the sting of his tone. She looked at his hard, handsome face, at the cynicism that was part of him. His eyes were chilled and unyielding. There was a certain air of impatience about him, as if he couldn’t wait for her to be gone. She was no more than a silly young girl, his attitude seemed to say to her. She did not understand him. She could not penetrate the complex masculine depths of him.

  ‘You know, Christopher, I didn’t ask for any of this,’ she said in an attempt to ease the tension vibrating between them. ‘By my behaviour I have been stupid and naive and gullible. And now I have learned my lesson. You told me that I will attract the attention of other gentlemen and marry well. The advice was well intentioned, but I shudder at the thought of trading my body for security. You forget that I have an inheritance of my own and I intend to use it to my own advantage—to eventually establish my own household,’ she said, her voice quiet but filled with an unshakeable dignity. ‘I will never depend on a man for either comfort or security.’

  Christopher arched one dark eyebrow. ‘A woman of independent means. A woman of worth.’

  Something in Lucy snapped then, something small and rebellious. He was the first male in maturity she had known and she was weak in her ignorance, but there was no mistaking, however, the wounded fury that flashed in her magnificent eyes or the stiffening of her spine as she took an instinctive step forward. ‘That’s right. Exactly the kind of woman who attracts fortune hunters—like Mr Barrington. And now I really don’t think there is anything left to say—at least, nothing you want to hear.’

  ‘No.’ He stood still, taut, fierce tension marking his mouth.

  Lucy heard the absolute finality of that word. She would not stay to argue. She had too much pride to allow her raw, aching emotions to be exposed further. ‘I’ll go and help Ruby to pack my things. If we are to return to London before dark, we must be away.’
/>
  Offering him a glare that cut like a dagger, Lucy gathered her small reserve of strength and turned her back on Christopher Wilding, whom she loved and hated with every instinct that was in her, crossing to the door on legs that shook, trying to retreat from a predicament into which she should never have put herself in the first place. Never in all her life had she felt so humiliated. She was chilled to the marrow. Even now, when she was desperate with the thought of being parted from him, she had to ask herself why it should hurt so much and to question what was in her heart.

  She was surprised when, as she opened the door, Christopher was behind her.

  ‘Wait. We cannot part like this.’

  Standing with her back to him, she swallowed. ‘You mean there is more you have to say to me?’

  ‘There is,’ he said on a softer note. ‘I think there is something I should say to you before you leave and I want you to listen to me very carefully.’

  Lucy stood, holding her breath for what was to come. She felt his eyes on her, burning into the back of her neck like a physical force.

  ‘I want you to know how much I both like and admire you. I think you are a very beautiful young woman and very brave—you’ve had more to contend with recently than most girls and you have coped magnificently. There have been times when I forgot how old you are. If I have treated you as if you were a great deal older, led you on and given you reason to think there could ever be anything between us, then that was very wrong of me and I am sorry. We both have things to do before our own personal feelings can be considered.’ He smiled. ‘I forget how grown up girls are in this new age—how much they know.’

  ‘We were encouraged to learn as much as we could at the academy,’ she said quietly. ‘I know a good deal more that you imagine.’

  ‘I imagine you do. Having said all that, I admit I am attracted to you and it’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done to resist you. But that’s where it must end. The last thing I want is for you to feel rejected, spurned and humiliated. You are very special to me. I like and respect you too much. You do understand, don’t you?’

 

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