Lucy slowly raised her face to his, noting that his eyes had become the color of storm clouds, looking down at her with something akin to uncertainty. Her mind felt so cluttered and thick.
“To kiss me again?” she said. “Lord Drayson, I—”
He clasped her shoulders, giving her a shake. “Deuce take it, Lucy, call me Colin.”
“Not until you explain to me what the devil is going on,” said Lucy, not caring about her language. She was tired of the rise and fall of her emotions, tired of guessing, wishing, hoping, and aching. She wanted to be free.
Lord Drayson closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and let his hands slide down her arms to her hands, where he took her fingers in his, holding them securely in his own.
“I cannot explain what I do not understand myself,” he said. “After I returned to Danbury, I could not rid my mind of your beautiful face. I wanted to see you again, make certain your reputation had not suffered because of me, and spend more time with you. I wanted to touch you, hold you, look upon you, and yes, kiss you.”
“Why did you not write? Mother and I fretted for weeks, wondering if I had angered you, if we were to be turned out at any moment, if—”
“You think so little of me then?” he interrupted, his jaw taut.
Lucy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You came here to sell Tanglewood, and I used your injury to deceive you. I never had the chance to explain or see what you would think of me when all was said and done. Tell me, Colin, how could I not assume the worst?”
“Because I would never turn away . . . a friend,” he said.
“Friend,” she repeated, looking down at their hands. “You call me friend, and yet . . . Do you kiss all your friends, Colin?”
His finger came to rest under her chin, and he gently lifted her head to meet his gaze. A smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “Only the pretty ones.”
He was attempting to tease a smile from her, but Lucy did not feel like smiling. She needed more from him than this. She needed his assurance that he would not crush her heart.
“What do you want from me?” she asked again.
He watched her for several heartbeats before answering. “I want time,” he said quietly. “More time. With you.”
Lucy drew in a shaky breath, unsure how to respond. She could either risk giving him the time he wanted—along with her heart—or cut her losses and walk away. It was her choice to make.
The trouble was, she had already given him her heart. She knew that now.
Lucy finally nodded slowly. Then she cleared her throat. “I believe I shall require your help with the carrots after all, Colin.”
A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “On one condition.”
“And that is?”
“That I get an equal share of the spoils.”
“As they will all go to your cook, I suppose I can agree to those terms.”
He chuckled and took a few slow steps backward before turning around to collect his horse. Lucy waited for him to return, and when he held out his arm for her to take, she accepted it without reservation. As they walked the rest of the distance to the garden, Lucy noticed that her feet felt lighter, her mind clearer, and her heart trilled with every beat.
Lord Drayson—no, Colin—had returned to Tanglewood because of her.
Lucy selected a lavender rose from the pail and began removing all the thorns and the leaves at the base of the stem. She placed it in a lovely glass vase before doing the same to two other roses. Lady Drayson and Harriett stood on either side of her, watching her movements.
“The arrangement will come together with greater ease if you begin at the center and work out from there,” explained Lucy. “Also, I have found that odd numbers arranged in an asymmetrical way look best.”
Lucy added a few white lilies to the mix, tucking them around and between the roses. To give it a touch of whimsy, she clipped and added some lovely greenbell. Then came several more roses, a few scattered lilies, and more greenbell. She would pause every now and again to fuss with a few stems, pull one out to clip it a bit shorter, and fuss some more. Once the vase was filled to her satisfaction, she drew back and smiled at her latest creation. She may not be handy with the needle or proficient on the pianoforte, but this . . . this she could do, and do well.
“I have absolutely no idea how you did that,” said Harriett, studying the arrangement with something akin to wonder. “I will never be able to do the same.”
“Do not sound completely hopeless as of yet, daughter,” said Lady Drayson wryly. “Let us first attempt to mimic Lucy’s skill and see if we cannot come up with something equally beautiful.”
Harriett examined all the clippings Lucy had arranged in piles on the table. Everything from roses and lilies, to delphiniums, foxgloves, and geraniums, the table was an array of color and intoxicating scents. The gardens at Tanglewood were in full bloom, offering a large variety of flowers. Lucy had been in heaven that morning when she went about with a pair of shears.
“I do not know where to begin,” said Harriett.
“Why not start with your favorite flower?” Lucy coached.
Harriett finally selected a deep pink orchid and held it up.
Lucy pressed her lips together in an attempt not to smile. “Orchids make wonderful filler. Perhaps select a larger bloom to begin with instead?”
“That would have been useful information to know before asking me to select a favorite flower,” muttered Harriett as she set the orchid back on the table and selected a deep pink lily instead. She shot Lucy a saucy, Does this meet with your approval? look, lifting the stem for Lucy’s inspection.
“That is lovely,” said Lucy slowly, trying to think of a kind way to offer criticism yet again. “But if you would like to use the orchid in the arrangement, perhaps a less similar shade of pink would look better?”
Harriett rolled her eyes and dropped the lily, waving her hands over the flowers. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to suggest one for me.”
“Well,” said Lucy, trying not to enjoy that fact that for once in her life she was more adept at something than another woman. “Why not this white lily instead?”
“Because that is what you used,” Harriett said. “I do not wish to mimic yours exactly. I simply want my creation to be as beautiful as yours.”
“Using only one of the same flowers will not make them too similar,” said Lucy. “Not if you group it with some orchids, these purple delphiniums and perhaps a few of these apple tree stems.
Harriett studied Lucy’s selections with interest and finally nodded. “Those could work well together, I suppose.”
“Honestly, Harriett,” said her mother. “You know very well they will look lovely. Lucy, you really are a wonder.”
Lucy smiled and turned her attention to Lady Drayson’s arrangement. “I like how you paired the foxglove with morning glory and anchored them with classic roses. I think you were bamming me when you said you had no talent with flowers.”
“If this does indeed turn into something beautiful, I will owe it all to you. I, like Harriett, have never known where to begin or how to go about it. You have no idea how much your brief tutorial and example has taught and encouraged me.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Lucy smiled. “Now I think I will leave you ladies to your creations and take my arrangement down to the drawing room.”
“Please don’t be gone too long,” said Harriett, examining her arrangement with a frown. “I’m quite sure I will need your help shortly.”
Lucy dropped into a curtsy and covered her heart with her palm. “I solemnly promise to make haste with my delivery and return as soon as humanly possible.”
Harriett lifted an eyebrow. “No need to be so dramatic, Lucy. I shall be perfectly fine until you return.”
Lucy laughed as she carried her arrangement from the room. In the past several days, she had come to feel very much at home at Tanglewood. Lady Drayson was kind and gracious, with a dry wit
that could send Lucy into a fit of the giggles. And Harriett was like a gale wind bursting forth at all times. She was lively, frank, and the most wonderful friend Lucy could have ever hoped to find.
And then there was Colin.
Lucy’s heart quickened its pace at the mere thought of his handsome face and intriguing eyes that seemed to change color depending upon his moods. Lately, they had been the color of a striking blue iris. He had become quite adept at finding opportunities to seek her out and even steal a kiss whenever possible. They walked the grounds, harvested more vegetables from the garden, laughed over dinner, and danced another waltz. He had even procured a sweet bay pony for her, and Lucy could now ride the animal. She’d progressed to the point where she could pet and nuzzle it with no fear that her nose would be bitten off. She had even given the pony a name.
“I believe I will call her Dear,” she said to Colin as they left the stables following her first ride.
He threw his head back and laughed, then wrapped his arm about her shoulders as he guided her back to the house. “Dear and Darling . . .” he mused with another chuckle. “I greatly fear we will be the laughingstock whenever we go riding together.”
Lucy had loved the sound of that word. Together. Her heart had warmed at the thought, for there was no one else with whom she would like to be together with.
Lucy set her arrangement on a table and fiddled with a few of the stems one last time before taking a step back to examine it from a distance.
Two warm and welcoming arms wound around her waist, and a light kiss tingled the skin at the nape of her neck. Lucy smiled and folded her arms over Colin’s, lifting her face to his so that her cheek rubbed against his.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I hoped that if I were to sneak away you would ferret me out.”
“I am becoming rather good at that, aren’t I?” He turned her around until she faced him. Then he cupped the sides of her face and pressed a kiss to her willing lips.
Lucy allowed the kiss to go on for a few moments before forcing herself to pull away. “Sir,” she whispered, laying her palm on his chest to keep some distance between them. “It is one thing to steal a kiss in a private corner of the gardens and quite another to indulge in such a public place as the drawing room. What if someone were to walk in?”
“They would probably exit rather quickly to avoid further embarrassment. And if you call me ‘sir’ one more time, I shall drag you to the middle of town and kiss you breathless for all to see.”
“But then you would be obligated to do the honorable thing by me, and we both know how much you dislike the idea of having matrimony forced upon you,” Lucy teased. “And I shouldn’t like it anymore than you.”
He heaved a sigh and gave her fingers a quick squeeze before tucking her hand through his arm so that he could lead her from the room. “I despise it when you insist on being sensible.”
Lucy laughed, feeling a closeness to him that she would have never thought she could feel with another person. Around Colin she was complete. All seemed so perfectly in order with nothing missing from her life.
He led her past a maid and back up the stairs to where Lady Drayson and Harriett continued to fret over their arrangements. Lady Drayson’s looked quite stunning, and Harriett’s . . . well, perhaps another lesson would be in order.
“Did a stampede of cattle come through and trample your flowers, Harriett?” said Colin in his loving, brotherly way.
Harriett glared, and Lucy tried not to smile as she released Colin’s arm to see if she could do anything to salvage the arrangement.
“It doesn’t look so bad,” said Lucy, fiddling with a stem here, trying to right a toppled stem there, and wondering how it came to be in such a sorry condition.
“It is dreadful, isn’t it?” said Harriett in a mournful, self-pitying way.
“Dreadful is putting it mildly,” said her brother, earning another glare.
“Now Harriett,” Lady Drayson said patiently. “This is the first flower arrangement you have attempted. Lucy has put together a great many, I presume, and I have more experience as well. You cannot expect to do it perfectly on your first attempt.”
“It is true,” Lucy agreed. “If you could see all the flowers I have ruined in the past, you would not feel nearly so bad.”
Harriett brightened. “There is hope then?”
Lucy tried to erase the doubt from her expression as she glanced at Harriett’s creation again. “There is always hope. Perhaps tomorrow we may try again.”
Harriett smiled and lifted an eyebrow at her mother. “Do you think we might exchange her for Colin, Mama? I would greatly prefer it.”
“Then who would you spar with, darling?” said Lady Drayson wryly. “The cat?”
“Lucy could easily spar with me,” said Harriett.
“Not so well as your brother,” said Lucy. “And I certainly could not ride with you. I have seen the two of you race across the property, and I fear I will never be up to such a feat.”
“I disagree,” said Colin. “Give it some more time, and you will be racing alongside us.”
The warmth in his gaze sent Lucy’s heart fluttering, and she very nearly rose to her tiptoes to place a kiss of gratitude on his cheek.
“Colin,” said Harriett. “Will you not tell us the point at which your memory returned? Lucy has confided to Mama and me about your little wager, and I should very much like to see you wearing that ghastly hat.”
Colin arched an eyebrow at Lucy. “Perhaps I am not the one who should wear it.”
Harriett fiddled with one of the lilies in her arrangement until it, too, began to droop. She frowned at it before lifting her gaze to her brother. “If that is the case, then you would not have a reason to withhold the truth.”
“Perhaps I’m not anxious to put Lucy through the shame of wearing the ridiculous hat.”
Unperturbed, Harriett continued, “But you only just suggested that Lucy should be the one to wear it.”
“I have not suggested anything of the kind. Nor will I.”
A slow smile spread across Harriett’s face as she watched her brother. “I do believe you are trying to protect your dignity,” she said. “You know as well as I that Lucy won. You so obviously keep it a mystery because you don’t wish to be shamed. Would it help, brother dear, if I were to affix my lovely flower arrangement to the brim? Would that make you more inclined to confess?”
Colin’s eyes strayed to Harriett’s sorry arrangement, and his lips twitched. “Why confess when it is so more fun to know something that you, dear sister, do not.”
Harriett’s eyes narrowed, Lady Drayson chuckled, and Lucy grinned. In those moments it was easy to forget that she was not part of the Drayson family and that things could not continue as they were forever.
Lucy’s few remaining days at Tanglewood sped by like a high-speed curricle race. They were filled with such happiness that she almost wished her mama and Mr. Shepherd would extend their wedding trip for many more weeks. But it was not to be, for all too soon Lucy was gathered with the family in the drawing room for their final evening together.
“Lucy, your floral arrangement is still so fresh,” commented Lady Drayson from where she sat on the sofa. “You must have a special touch. Mine began to wilt the day after I created it, and yesterday, I finally gave up and asked a footman to throw it out.”
“I have no such touch,” said Lucy, taking a seat across from her on the settee. “It is probably because I instructed Katy to dump out the old water and fill it with fresh water every day. I have found that clean water begets longer-lasting flowers.”
Harriett sank down next to her mother and arranged the skirt of the lavender gown she wore before folding her hands primly in her lap. “I am discovering that our dear Lucy is very good at giving us proper instructions only after the opportune moment has passed.”
Lucy laughed. “I do apologize. Truly. I had meant to tell Katy to do the same for your flowers, but it slipped my mind.”
“I have noticed that you have been a little distracted of late,” said Lady Drayson with a humorous glint in her eyes. “I wonder why that could be.”
Lucy’s face heated. She had no idea how to respond to such a comment. And Colin was no help at all.
“I will happily take full responsibility for any and all distractions.” He gave Lucy’s shoulder a light squeeze as he walked around the back of the settee and took a seat next to her. The past two nights he had chosen to forgo his port and had followed the ladies to the drawing room instead.
Harriett’s feet began to dance out a rhythm on the floor. Her lovely gown swished around her ankles in a pretty show of her boredom. Lucy recognized the signs immediately and held back a smile. Her friend could not sit still for long.
“What shall we do tonight?” Harriett asked. “Perform on the pianoforte? Take a walk around the gardens? Discuss how lovely the weather has been today?” Her expression brightened, and she clapped her hands. “Oh, I have the most wonderful idea.”
“Why do I find myself suddenly afraid?” said Colin, draping his arm across the back of the settee. The sleeve of his jacket grazed Lucy’s bare neck and sent a swarm of gooseflesh down her back.
“You should be afraid,” said Harriett, “for my plan involves a wager, and we all know how dreadfully unlucky you are with those.”
“You know nothing of the sort,” he said.
“What sort of wager?” Lucy’s curiosity was piqued. Harriett’s ideas, though out of the ordinary, almost always made for a lively time.
“Actually, it is more of a contest than a wager,” said Harriett. “As this is Lucy’s final evening with us, let us make it last and say that the person who is able to stay awake for the longest amount of time is the winner.”
“Oh, heavens child,” said Lady Drayson. “Why on earth would you wish to do such a thing?”
“Because it will be fun. And the winner shall get. . .” She pressed her lips together in thought before brightening. “To name any wish they please.”
Colin snickered. “And who will grant said wish?”
The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) Page 20
