“Have you not noticed?” she queried. “He has devoted himself to your stepmother nearly the entire evening thus far.”
He glanced at Henry and saw that he had indeed hurried to Lady Sandifort’s side and was even now wrapping her arm about his. “How very good of him. I ought to relieve him at some point.”
“I would not recommend it, for I have not failed to notice that you seem to be an object of hers as well, or am I mistaken?”
He was silent for a moment then said quietly, “Do I understand you to have apprehended my greatest difficulty at Aldershaw?”
“I do not know why I did not see it before, nor can I comprehend how you have borne her presence here.”
He sighed. “In that I had no choice.”
“No, I suppose you did not.”
The dancers assumed their positions. Robert took her hand in his and slipped his arm about her waist. Lucy felt very odd suddenly, as she so very often did when she drew close to Robert, even though this was merely a dance. She chuckled inwardly, for she recalled hearing that Lord Byron had once said the waltz was merely an excuse for hugging. Perhaps he was right, but a very fine excuse after all. She looked up into his eyes, the music began, and from that moment she knew herself to be completely and utterly lost.
Her concerns at Aldershaw were many, but they were forgotten. The quarrels she had had with Robert were too numerous to be counted, yet she could not recall even one to mind in this moment. Lady Sandifort’s worsening state should have been her primary object, instead she felt as though no such lady even existed. Up and back, round and round he moved her and turned her. All the while her gaze was fixed to his, and during those few minutes he was the only real part of her life. Everything else was a distant, faint memory.
Robert held Lucy’s gaze as though he was holding her soul. Even in the flickering light of the flambeaux he could see the sparkle of her eyes, that quality which best reflected how she confronted her world, wherever she happened to be. He was in awe of her, for she never seemed daunted and always contrived a solution, however creative, for any difficulty she encountered. The fact that he was dancing with her now was a perfect example of what she was able to accomplish with seemingly little effort. Here was not only a come-out ball for his sisters, something that had been previously forbidden them, but even with a fire that morning a veritable dream had been created in his own gardens.
“Thank you,” he murmured, twirling her round and round, up and back.
“For what?” she inquired, seeming surprised.
“For this ball, for tonight, for a garden full of people and dancing, and for the happiness of my sisters.”
“But I did so little,” she countered.
He could only smile. “Perhaps it appears that way to you, but you are undoubtedly unaware that it is your joie de vivre that has moved through this house so that, even in the face of a fire meant to ruin the ball, we are yet dancing.” He laughed.
Lucy felt her heart grab and hold. How she loved to see Robert laugh. He had been so dark, so serious in his obligations when she had first arrived in June, but now delight was in his eyes.
Perhaps it was the music, or the moon overhead, or the evening breeze that swept her skirts against Robert’s legs, or perhaps simply that she had known him since childhood, but Lucy acknowledged freely, at least within the confines of her own mind, just how much she loved Robert Sandifort.
He drew her more closely to him, whirling her around and around. “What are you thinking?”
“That I am a very great fool,” she said, wondering if there was even the smallest hope that Robert could return her regard openly.
He laughed, drew her up and back, round and round. “Then I believe we are a pair.”
Over the next hour, Robert watched Lucy. He had much to say to her, but he truly did not know how to go about the business. When she had completed a dance with Valmaston, he approached her, offering his arm. “Will you walk with me?” he inquired gently.
Though the light was but a scattering of flickers from the flambeaux, he saw the unmistakable answer in her eye. She took his arm quite willingly. “A stroll would suit me to perfection,” she said.
He led her in the direction of the maze, beyond the flambeaux, deeper and deeper into the shadows. The laughter from the revelers grew quieter with each step they took. When they were at last on the far side of the maze, and some distance from the ball, he heard Lucy sigh.
He whispered her name, turning toward her and placing his hands on her shoulders. He was strangely nervous and began haltingly, “I know that I have not always been . . . that is, I am not a gentleman of mild opinions and temper. I often speak my mind more forcefully than I ought, but I wish to assure you . . . Lucy, I wish to marry you!” The devil take it! When had he become so cowhanded that he must blurt out an offer of marriage as though he were calling the pigs to supper?
“What?” she queried, obviously stunned.
“Yes. I wish to marry you. I have for some time, well perhaps not a very long time, but recently when I realized how much I loved you.”
“You love me?”
He gripped her arms more tightly still, as though holding onto the sides of a small boat in heavy seas. “Yes. I love you . . . passionately.” To his own ears he sounded ridiculous.
“Passionately?”
“Yes. I have said so.” He groaned. “I am making a terrible mull of this.”
Lucy frowned. Even in the shadows he could see that she was frowning, as though suddenly full of doubts.
Well, there was one thing he knew how to do. Though every word and expression to be found in the English language failed him, he knew how to kiss her. With that, his body relaxed and he slipped his arms about her, holding her tightly. He found her mouth, kissing her hard until she parted her lips. He kissed her more deeply still, so that familiar warbling coos began gathering in her perfect throat. How he had grown to crave those sounds. How happy he was to be holding her in his arms once more.
“Lucy,” he whispered. “I do love you.”
“And I love you, Robert, but—”
He stiffened slightly and released her, but only sufficiently to once again hold her shoulders in his hands. The feel of the seas were heavy beneath him once more. He swallowed hard. “What is it?”
“I . . . I do not mean to offend you, Robert, but though your kisses are like heaven, I am not persuaded, that is, what if tomorrow we begin brangling anew? Though I do hold you in great affection and esteem, though I love you, I do not trust that we could ever be truly happy together.”
His hands slid down her arms as if of their own volition. “I would not press you to marry me for the world.” He felt he should say more, that he should offer a speech from his heart, words that would persuade her that the love they shared would overcome their tendency to quarrel, but he could not.
He watched as she breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Then we understand one another?”
No, we do not understand one another at all, he wanted to say. Instead, he let her go. She turned away from him and only after several minutes had passed did he find he could make his feet move. He then returned to the ball.
Henry found him shortly after and was scowling. “What the devil did you do?” he cried. “For I can see that you must have done something. When I asked her what was amiss she simply spoke your name.”
“I have not your abilities. I am sadly unskilled. Henry, you would have been ashamed of me. I asked her to marry me as though I had not a single thought for her feelings, then I kissed her. The kiss was well enough, I suppose, but in the end she refused my hand in marriage because she said she did not believe we could be truly happy together.”
Henry appeared utterly aghast. He caught his arm hard. “Robert, am I hearing you correctly? Are you now telling me that you just proposed to and kissed Lady Sandifort?”
“What?” Robert exclaimed, aghast. “Good God, no! I was speaking of Lucy. Why would you think even for a moment I
was referring to Lady Sandifort?”
“Because I was!” he cried.
“I am completely lost. I do not take your meaning.”
“Then you did not speak with Lady Sandifort just now, in the last ten minutes?”
“No. Lucy and I walked just past the maze and that is when I proposed to her.”
“I see,” Henry said, nodding slowly. “Then I now must warn you that Lady Sandifort had just come from the direction of the maze when I spoke with her. She must have seen you kissing Lucy. I tell you, brother, she looked as mad as fire.”
Robert shook his head. “Good God!” he whispered, horrified.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Well,” Lady Sandifort said, hooking Lucy’s arm and drawing her into the house. “Are you not the most clever girl! You quite put me to shame.”
Lucy immediately felt uneasy. Lady Sandifort was smiling but there was just such a look in her eye and a cold tone to her voice that she knew something was amiss, only what? She could see that she was offended, but in what way? Unless . . .
Lucy therefore asked quietly, “What do you mean I am a clever girl.”
Lady Sandifort drew her up the stairs and into the library where, once within, she closed the door. “Have you never wondered why I was particularly interested in Valmaston?”
Lucy felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the chamber. “You wished to make Robert jealous,” she said.
Lady Sandifort stared at her for an intense moment. “Then you can understand now why I am overset, for I counted you a friend.”
Lucy saw the venom in her blue eyes and realized that her worst fear was true—she must have seen Robert kissing her. She did not even know what to say to her ladyship except, “I did not know of your interest in him, at least not until this evening at dinner.”
“Then why, once you knew, did you kiss Robert, and do not deny it, for I saw you?”
“You saw us just now?” Lucy asked, gesturing in the direction of the gardens. Her heart was pounding. She did not know what else to say to her.
“Forever the innocent. Well, I fear I have grown weary with being so patient with everyone. No one knows the trials I suffer. In you, I thought I had at last found someone who understood my sacrifices as well as my desires. Yet, you would use me as badly as Valmaston.”
A scratching sounded on the door.
“Come,” Lady Sandifort called out.
Mr. Colbury entered the chamber. He was a tall, thin young gentleman who had been in attendance at the assemblies. He was the third son of the vicar of a neighboring parish and appeared quite nervous as he made his bows.
“Lucy, I beg you will fetch Alice and Robert, for I have something of import to say to them both,” said Lady Sandifort.
Lucy glanced at Mr. Colbury and understood instantly what it was that Lady Sandifort meant next to do. Lucy left the chamber at once and the moment she quit the room, panic seized her. How on earth was she to prevent so unexpected a betrothal?
She found Alice first and as calmly as she could explained that Lady Sandifort was quite overset for her own peculiar reasons, that she had Mr. Colbury with her, and that she most particularly wished to speak with Alice and Robert, together.
Alice paled, a certain sign that she too apprehended the implications. “I see,” she murmured. “Very well.”
“You know about this then?” She was not certain if Alice knew of the conditions of her father’s will.
Alice nodded. “A few minutes ago, Lady Sandifort said that she thought I should be married off before I was allowed to ruin my life. She seemed very angry. I know Robert thinks that Anne and I are in ignorance of the fact that Lady Sandifort has the right to arrange marriages for us both. But because neither Anne nor I could comprehend why he was not more forceful with Lady Sandifort, Hetty felt compelled to tell us the truth not a sennight past.” She appeared very sad suddenly. “I do not know how my brother has borne this burden over the past twelvemonth.”
“For your sake and Anne’s I believe he would have borne anything. Only what is to be done?”
“Lucy,” she said, taking her arm strongly. “Do not be overly concerned. I . . . I believe all will be well.”
“But I suspect she means to arrange, perhaps even announce, the betrothal tonight.”
“So I understand, but even were she to do so . . . well, let me just say that whatever schemes she hopes to accomplish tonight can be undone later.”
Lucy marveled at her. “I wish I could be so certain, but for the first time since my arrival at Aldershaw, I am truly frightened.”
Alice merely smiled in her stoic manner. “Again, I beg you will not distress yourself. Instead, if you will find Robert, I will meet you both in the library as Lady Sandifort has requested.”
“Yes, of course.”
With that Alice turned on her heel and was gone.
Lucy moved to the center of the terrace and searched through the lively dancing crowd for Robert. He was going down a set with Anne so there was nothing for it, she must wait.
She moved to the lawn and positioned herself so that the moment he finished dancing she could take him aside. How the music played on and on! She vowed she had never before realized just how long a country dance could be!
Finally the music drew to a close and Lucy fairly pounced on Robert. “Forgive me, Anne, but there is something of great import I must say to your brother.”
“Of course,” she said. Since three young gentlemen approached her, each begging for the next dance, Lucy did not give her another thought.
“What is the matter, Lucy?” Robert asked, obviously concerned. “What has happened?”
Once away from the crowds, Lucy whispered, “I believe Lady Sandifort is about to betroth Alice to Mr. Colbury. She asked me to bring you and Alice to the library. I have already sent Alice to her.”
Robert shook his head. “Who is Mr. Colbury?”
“He was at the assemblies, the vicar’s son?”
“Colbury,” he mused. “Do you mean that sallow young man with scarcely two words to say for himself?”
She nodded. “The very one. I . . . I believe she means it as a sort of punishment to you. She saw you kiss me.”
“So I have been given to understand,” he said.
Lucy turned to walk in the direction of the house. Robert walked beside her, even taking her arm. She had never felt so helpless. Panic still rippled through her, for she could not think of a single thing she could do to alter the situation. Not one! “I do not know what to do,” she cried.
She heard Robert chuckle and looking up at him she saw that he was watching her closely and shaking his head.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I believe this may be the first time since your arrival at Aldershaw in which I have seen you at a loss.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Why are you speaking of me in this moment when Alice’s entire future is at stake?”
“You are right, of course,” he murmured. Yet again he chuckled.
“Why do you laugh? Why are you not overset? For I vow I am ready to scream in vexation!”
“Lucy, pray calm yourself. If I do not seem so wretchedly overset it is because you have taught me that even the most hopeless situation can have a solution. I think we must be patient.”
She was dumbfounded.
“Let us hear precisely what it is Lady Sandifort has to say to us.”
Once within the library it was as Lucy had feared. Lady Sandifort stated her case, that Sir Henry had given her the right to choose husbands for both Anne and Alice if she felt it necessary. She had therefore decided it would be best if Alice accepted Mr. Colbury’s hand in marriage. “Tomorrow we shall settle the matter with Mr. Colbury’s father—who was unable to attend the ball because of the gout—and begin the process of having our solicitor compose the proper papers. Is that clear?”
Robert stood beside Alice and spoke softly. “Whatever you wish me to do,
I will do.”
Alice smiled faintly. “I beg you will say nothing, Robert,” she responded in her quiet, studious manner. “My stepmother was given the right to choose a husband for me. There can be little use to argue the point now.”
Lucy saw that Robert was rather awestruck by his younger sister’s demeanor and speech. “As you wish,” he responded, but he was frowning.
“I see you mean to be sensible,” Lady Sandifort said, addressing Alice.
“Indeed, I strive to be. But I do request that any announcement of the betrothal be delayed until the engagement papers have been signed. Will that suit you, ma’am?”
Lady Sandifort lifted a brow. “Since you are being so reasonable, I do not see why I should oppose the idea. Mr. Colbury, I suggest you take your bride-to-be to the garden and dance with her.”
Alice waited for him to approach her. He was nervous and the tips of his ears were bright red. As he led her from the chamber, he was heard to whisper, “Miss Alice, I am sorry . . . I had not the smallest notion . . . I did not know for what reason she asked me to come to the library . . .”
Lucy watched as Alice patted his arm. “Pray be easy, Mr. Colbury. All will be well.”
With his free hand he ran his finger around the inside of his neckcloth. “I hope you are right!”
Lucy did not wait but followed them out. A new panic seized her. She would have asked Alice to stay a moment and speak with her, but Alice was busily engaged in whispering to Mr. Colbury as they made their descent down the stairs. She wondered if Alice had some scheme of her own in mind.
For that reason Lucy followed them onto the terrace and watched with some interest as Alice sent Mr. Colbury off to amuse himself however he wished. Alice in turn began wending her way through the crowds, not stopping until she had found Lord Hurstborne. She drew him aside and spent at least ten minutes speaking rather intensely with him.
The horrible thought went through Lucy’s head that Alice was arranging to elope with Lord Hurstborne, but that was ridiculous. Alice would never do so. For one thing she was far too sensible, and for another her object was Cornwall, not any sort of romantic attachment.
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