by Lori Wick
thoughts drift into another world. A world where she was
sought after. A world where a tall, dark man would fall in love
the moment he lay eyes on her and want her to be his wife.
"But then he'll want you to live in London," Stacy, straightening
suddenly, spoke aloud into the still room. "That won't
do at all."
With composed movements, and working to bring her
thoughts firmly back to reality, she pulled the hairbrush
through her hair and then headed for the door to check on
dinner preparations.
It simply won 'tdoto stand about fantasizing when there
is work to be done, Stacy told herself. Still, she was seeing a
tall, faceless man bending gallantly over her hand.
Stacy's heart thudded with dread when it was time to say
goodbye to her grandfather. Not an overly demonstrative
man, Andrew Daniels surprised Stacy by giving her a quick
hug. They were nearly of the same height, and Stacy had to
force the words from her throat when he dropped a kiss onto
her cheek and released her.
"Goodbye, Papa."
"Goodbye, Stacy. Write when you are settled."
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19
"Yes, Papa." She stood quietly then and just looked at him.
Andrew stared in return. His vision was better today, and
he could see the uncertainty and fear in her eyes. He kept his
own expression bland
"You're going to be fine," the old man spoke, wondering if
he would be able to, say the same for himself.
Stacy could only nod, wanting to believe him. It was such a
childlike gesture that Andrew gave her another hug, this one
quite lengthy and without words. When it was over, he stood
quietly and watched her step into his ancient carriage. He
stayed on the steps, not only until they disappeared from view,
but until he could no longer hear the carriage wheels rolling
or the sound of the horses' hooves.
Lucinda Warbrook, Countess Snow by title, surreptitiously
shifted the locket-watch that lay on her bosom and studied
the time. She'd done so every few minutes for nearly an hour.
"Stacy will be fine, Cinda," a calm male voice told her from
across the room. Lucinda's chin rose.
"Of course she'll be fine, Roddy. She is a Daniels, and all
Daniels are strong. I was merely straightening my lace."
Roddy Caruthers, Earl of Glyn and Lucinda's closest friend,
eyed her with doubt. Lucinda met his gaze for only a moment
before she relaxed and the two exchanged a smile.
"Would you like me to go to the train station and see what
might be keeping her?" He'd offered to do this twice before,
and both times Lucinda had turned him down. Now she looked
as though she might be considering it.
"It's just that I have pushed this issue with my brother, and
if anything should happen to Stacy before she even arrives--"
Lucinda broke off when Roddy stood. She was reaching for
the bellpull so Roddy's coat and hat could be retrieved when
the door opened. It was Craig, Lucinda's head servant, announcing
Stacy's arrival. Craig closed the parlor door as soon
as he'd had his say, and Lucinda looked at Roddy, a touch of
panic around her eyes.
"What have I done?" she whispered.
"You We done exactly as you should, Cinda," Roddy assured
her confidently, just as the door opened and Stacy entered.
Her face was washed with fatigue but nothing could disguise
the sweetness of her smile or the lovely blue of her eyes.
She stood quietly for inspection wearing the yellow satin
dress, her hair pulled back in a youthful style.
Even as Lucinda approached, she thought both the dress
and hairstyle too young for Stacy, but no matter; she would fix
all of that. The older woman nearly rubbed her hands together
in anticipation of dressing this magnificent creature.
"My dear Stacy," Lucinda spoke with genuine warmth as
her arms surrounded the girl.
Stacy returned the embrace, surprised and strangely relieved
to find that her aunt was just a few inches shorter than
herself.
"How was the train?" Lucinda asked as she led her to the
settee near the fire. The room was chilly, and Stacy welcomed
the warmth.
"It went well. A bit cold at times, but Milly and I snuggled
together for warmth."
"Milly?" Lucinda frowned in thought.
"Milly Binks," Stacy supplied "I traveled here with her
family."
"Of course. I remember now. She was coming to shop, I
believe."
"Yes, for her coming out."
Roddy, having taken a chair, sat quietly and listened to this
exchange with great pleasure. He'd known for years that
Lucinda wrote her brother and niece regularly and gained
steady replies in return, making this instantaneous friendship
quite natural. What he hadn't been prepared for was Stacy's
sweetness.
She was not some nauseating creature who feigned politeness
or forced good manners; she was simply a very gentle
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21
woman who obviously found pleasure in small things, such as
conversing with her elderly aunt.
"Oh, goodness," Lucinda's voice broke into his musings.
"You're sitting so quietly, Roddy; I nearly forgot you.
"Stacy, this is my dear friend the Earl of Glyn, Roddy
Caruthers. Roddy, this is my niece, Anastasia Daniels."
Roddy stood on this introduction, and with all the court
manners of a prince, bowed low and gently kissed the hand
offered him.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Stacy."
Stacy, who had begun to smile at the introduction, found
her eyes growing round with surprise by the time her aunt's
friend was finished.
"Have I said something wrong?" Roddy asked solicitously,
his eyes sparkling with good humor.
"I don't think so," Stacy spoke softly. "I've just never heard
Lady Stacy sound so grand. We're all quite familiar at home."
"Ahh." Roddy's voice was kind, a smile now in full bloom.
"I think you will become comfortable with our formality very
swiftly." His voice was so gentle that it put Stacy's doubts to
rest. Stacy gave him a huge smile, one that Roddy returned,
before Lucinda spoke.
"I've ordered tea for 3:00, Stacy, if you'd like to freshen up.
You will stay, Roddy?"
"Of course, Cinda," Roddy accepted with a gracious nod of
his head. He watched as his hostess took her young charge
from the room.
Stacy silently followed her aunt up the wide staircase of
the mansion, mentally figuring how many hours remained
until bedtime. Near the top she was beginning to flag, but the
idea of tea drove her on. Never had she experienced such a long day. The sights and sounds of the train stations, the train
ride, and then London itself were nearly more than she could
take.
Watching Milly and her family walk away at the train
station after such a good journey of sharing and laughter had
been harder than Stacy expe
cted, but Lucinda's coachman
was kind and just 30 minutes later Stacy had been relieved to
walk into Lucinda's parlor and find it warm and homey.
Stacy was looking forward to her stay with her aunt, but
she was not lulled into a false sense of security about this visit.
She had seen a look in Lucinda's eyes that had told her her
clothing was not acceptable. And there was more. Lucinda
sported the same stubborn chin that her grandfather owned
He was a man who liked to have his own way. Stacy had no
doubts that as warm and loving as Lucinda Warbrook might
be, she would also possess a well-used stubborn streak.
"She's lovely, isn't she, Roddy?" Lucinda said after the tea
service was cleared away and Stacy had asked if she could
retire to rest awhile.
"Yes, she is," he agreed softly, gazing at the excited flush
on Lucinda's cheeks and thinking how lovely she was herself.
Three years past her sixtieth birthday, Lucinda didn't look
a day over 50. Her dark hair was liberally streaked with white,
but it gave a softness to her face that not even her stubborn
chin could hide. She had a temper and was fiercely protective
of those she loved, but she was also wise, sensitive, and well
liked among London's elite.
Roddy wondered briefly if Stacy had any idea just how
fully her aunt intended to launch her into London society.
"She hasn't many clothes, and what she does have are all
wrong for her, so I'm making an appointment with Angelica
tomorrow."
"Does Stacy know that?"
"No," Lucinda spoke dismissively, "but all girls like new
clothes."
Something on Roddy's face made her pause.
"Do you think she'll object?"
"I honestly don't know. She's nothing whatever like I
expected. She's mature and quite accepting of her lot, I would
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say. I could tell she was uncomfortable in the red velvet dress
she changed into for tea, but even at that I detected an
underlying acceptance within her over the whole situation."
Nodding, Lucinda stayed silent, digesting what he'd said.
Roddy was always so good at reading people. He never worried
about putting his oar in as Lucinda did, but was content to
sit back, listen, and observe. Sometimes he read the situation
wrong, but Lucinda felt certain he'd hit the mark with Stacy.
No matter really, Lucinda thought. Stacy will not have to
be accepting of her situation any longer. I am here to see to
that.
It crossed Lucinda's mind that her niece might not care to
have new clothes and attend every ball in London, but Lucinda
quickly pushed the thought away. What girl wouldn't be thrilled
with the summer Lady Warbrook was about to give her
niece?
stacy thanked rayna, the personal maid Lucinda assigned
to her, while carefully keeping a smile pinned to her face.
When the door closed, leaving her alone, Stacy's hands moved
to her mouth and she dropped onto one side of the bed.
She simply didn't know what to do. Her grandfather would
be furious if he knew how many dresses Lucinda had ordered
for her today. Stacy knew they would cost a fortune, money
that her grandfather didn't have. She recalled the flash of
anger in Lucinda's eyes when she mentioned this, and that had
been enough to make Stacy hold her tongue.
It had done little to relieve her mind when Lucinda calmed
down and explained quietly that the gowns were a gift. Stacy
knew her grandfather would still not approve, and in a way she
understood her grandfather's belief. Stacy often dreamed of
finer things, but it seemed cruel to shower a person with
beautiful articles of clothing they could never have again.
Stacy was convinced that it was easier to go without your
whole life than to live in opulence only to have it taken away.
Suddenly the room felt stuffy, and Stacy rose to go downstairs.
A walk in the garden was sure to do some good.
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25
An hour later Roddy stopped to see Lucinda, only to be
told that she was taking a rest. He was on the verge of leaving
his card and a note when Craig told him that Lady Stacy was in
the garden. There was something akin to concern in the man's
tone, causing Roddy to reconsider and make his way out-of-doors.
The weather was still a bit cool, but Stacy seemed immune
to the conditions around her. She sat on a stone bench amid
the budding flowers and stared into space toward the high
stone wall that surrounded the yard. She found herself wishing
for the green hills of Middlesbrough, where she could
walk for hours without need of an escort.
Her mind was wandering among those fields when she
heard a footfall. Glad for something to take her mind from
home, Stacy turned with surprised pleasure to see Roddy.
"Good afternoon, Lady Stacy," he began. "Taking in this
brisk afternoon?"
Stacy smiled shyly. "My room felt stuffy. I'm afraid I've
hardly noticed the weather."
Roddy took a seat across from her and studied her. Stacy
sat quietly under his scrutiny, searching her mind for some
topic of conversation. She had never been very good at being
witty or charming. She usually just said what was on her mind,
but she didn't think her wardrobe an appropriate topic right
then. Stacy was still groping for a subject when Roddy spoke.
"How was your shopping trip this morning?"
"Fine," Stacy answered a bit too brightly, and Roddy's
brows rose in disbelief, causing Stacy's eyes to drop to her lap.
"Lucinda likes to shop," she spoke inanely, wishing that
Roddy's gaze wasn't so penetrating.
"I take it that she bought you quite a number of dresses?"
"An entire wardrobe," Stacy admitted, looking miserable.
"It was really very kind of her, but I just don't know what my
grandfather will say when I arrive home with an entire trunk
full of new dresses." Stacy did not know what prompted her to
confide in this near stranger, but he was so kind and easy to
talk with.
"Your grandfather doesn't care for your having new things?"
Roddy's voice held no accusation, just deceivingly mild interest.
Stacy tipped her head to the side, searching for the right
words to explain. As she did so her thick blonde hair fell like a
curtain over one shoulder.
"My grandfather is a proud man, just as Aunt Lucinda is a
proud woman. He wants me to have all that he can provide.
Aunt Lucinda married well. My grandfather couldn't provide
that many dresses for me if he saved for a year. And in truth, I
can't think where I'll wear them. Some of the fabrics look fit
for a princess."
"Did you explain that to Lucinda?"
"I tried, but she didn't look too happy about it."
Such a polite way, Roddy translated to himself, of saying
that Cinda became angry and Stacy immediately closed her
mouth and backed down.
"Has Lucinda told you all she has planned for the summer?"
Stacy shook her head no.
Roddy nodded. "I think you may find that you wilj have
ample opportunity to wear the dresses. As for your grandfather's
reaction, let Lucinda handle it. You certainly won't be
blamed for something over which you had no control."
Stacy sighed deeply. She felt caught between the hammer
and anvil where her aunt and grandfather were concerned To
please one would displease the other, and that thought alone
gave Stacy a headache. But her normal good sense took over
then, and she told herself that Roddy was right.
"Thank you, my lord. You've been a tremendous help."
"You're most welcome, and I really wish you would call
me Roddy. It's not as if I'm a duke," he added with a cheeky
grin.
Stacy smiled in return but then looked worried. "I won't
have to meet any dukes or duchesses, will I?"
"You might," Roddy told her. "Is that a problem?"
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^
27
Stacy shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't know what I
would say."
"Don't say anything if you don't have to. And if you do find
you need to reply, just be yourself. The London elite can be
ruthless, but the only thing they could find to say about you is
that you're the sweetest thing to arrive in decades."
Stacy chuckled softly at the compliment. "I think Au
Lucinda is quite lucky to have Roddy Caruthers."
"I think so too," he agreed with her, another grin in place.
With that he stood and offered his arm.
"May I escort you in to tea?"
Stacy accepted graciously, not even self-conscious that he
was two inches shorter than her statuesque frame.
"Did you give my letters to Craig?" Lucinda wanted to
know. Over two weeks had passed since Stacy had spoken
with Roddy in the garden, and during that time Stacy had been
much easier about the wardrobe.
Now she was breakfasting with her aunt, and Lucinda was
giving her the day's plans.
"I did give them to Craig. He assured me he would see to
them," Stacy answered.
'Very good. Now, I wish to leave as soon as we've eaten.
We've been invited to Andrea's, and I don't wish to be late."
Stacy nodded and continued with her meal. Her day-dresses
had begun arriving just two days ago, and Lucinda had
had the two of them out for tea both morning and afternoon
since. Stacy had met more people in the last three days than
she had in all her life.
