by Mariel Grey
What was the real reason he was more or less forcing Lucy to come to Chalifour Manor? Chalifour wasn't sure he was prepared to answer the question, even to himself. He found himself fixated on her lush mouth and the willing response she had given him when he kissed her.
Chalifour had been surprised by the joyous abandon Lucy displayed when racing him on horseback. He had wanted to taste her lips since he first saw her at Glenhurst Hall. The kiss had been impulsive on his part, but Lucy's response had jolted him. Lucy had composed herself quickly enough from wild temptress to prim and proper young lady when she entered the house, however.
Lucy intrigued him. Most women he met were busy evaluating him for future marriage material. Lucy did not strike him that way. If anything, she appeared to have the opposite agenda. There was something about her, some quality that reminded him of a sunny day. He found himself smiling again.
Thinking back, Chalifour recalled passing Dr. Willets traveling in the direction of the Goodwin residence. He knew the man only slightly. It was likely the doctor had been on his way to see Lucien Goodwin. He'd not thought to ask Lucy if a doctor was treating Lucien. It might be in his interest to seek out Dr. Willets and make some inquiries.
Chalifour stomped into his office, out of sorts and prickly for reasons he didn't understand. Settling into his chair, he sat at his desk and leaned back. Chalifour passed his hand over his face and then sat rubbing his chin. Shaking his head, he removed himself from his ruminations and bent himself to answering the correspondence that awaited him.
****
Monique's brother, Lord William Cathdon, Duke of Glenhurst, had sent his luxurious Town Coach to fetch his sister. The coach had arrived the evening before to allow the horses time to rest. Not surprisingly, the cattle pulling the coach were all beautiful steppers. The coach bore the Glenhurst coat of arms.
As planned, Lucy and Monique left early Sunday morning. The footman pulled the steps of the coach down for the women to enter and closed the door behind them. Lucy trailed her fingers across the glossy rosewood that lined the interior of the door and coach. Both women leaned back and settled themselves into the deep, wide seats covered in a rich puce velvet. The coach was well sprung. The rhythm of the coach horses clopping their way toward Town was hypnotic and both women found themselves nodding after only a brief time.
Lucy awoke with a start not far from Town. "Monique! Wake up! We're nearly there."
Monique's eyes blinked in confusion before focusing on her surroundings. Blinking once again, Monique sat up straight and began tugging and pulling at her clothing. Though it wasn't an extremely arduous journey into Town, the trip was long enough to compel them to wear heavy traveling clothes.
The closer they drew to the heart of Town, the more Lucy's stomach twisted and her sense of dread grew. She would see the vile Perdan again. He made her skin crawl. How could her brother have accumulated such a large debt? Could he really have been gambling to that degree? Irrespective of the reason for the debt, if they were to avoid ruin, she must make payment.
Lucy wanted some quiet time to think and decide how she would handle Perdan tomorrow. At least she would have the luxury of a relaxing evening at Glenhurst Hall to settle herself. Thankfully, she didn't need to worry about Lucien. Lucy was confident he was being well cared for and her servants would run the household efficiently in her absence.
The coach arrived at Glenhurst Hall situated on Grosvenor Square in the Mayfair district. The mansion was an imposing structure that exuded wealth and privilege. The exterior walls were of a sturdy limestone block. Elegant French windows and balconies trimmed in a delicate wrought iron filigree graced the edifice on the lower floors and contrasted with the stout stone walls.
Lucy and Monique approached the grand entrance framed by classical stone pillars. Having visited many times before, Lucy knew the ceiling in the main hall soared so high above her head it generally invited images of the clouds which surely must float through from time to time. Lucy had always admired its high, imposing walls decorated with an ornate frieze and dado.
Bursting into the entrance hall, Monique found her brother descending the steps to greet them himself. "Monique, sweetling, it's good to have you home! I was quite surprised to find myself missing you!" His lips brushed her cheek.
"Well then, seeing as how you want me to marry soon, perhaps you should become accustomed to it!" Monique replied tartly.
Laughing, Lord Glenhurst said, "As sweet and genteel as ever!" Turning to Lucy, he said, "Ah, the lovely Miss Goodwin! It's been such a very long time since I've seen you. I hope you have recovered somewhat from your father's demise. I rather miss the spirited conversations we used to have. How is your brother these days?"
Lucy's face fell, "I wish I had better news to report. He was in a coach accident returning home a little more than a week ago. His situation had not improved much until yesterday, when he woke and spoke for the first time. His valet was able to feed him before he fell asleep, so that was encouraging."
"I'm sorry to hear of this. You've had a such difficult time this past year, what with your father, and now your brother. I sincerely hope my sister was some comfort to you."
"I was thankful for her friendship and her presence."
"Good. Not knowing your circumstances, I invited some guests for dinner. Do you think you will be up for it?"
Before Lucy could speak, Monique broke in, "I think that would be just the thing to get her mind off of her troubles."
"Excellent! Then that's settled."
Lucy pasted a smile on her face. "That was most gracious of you. I think, perhaps, I should retire instead and get some rest."
"Nonsense, I'm sure Monique is correct. I doubt you have anything seriously pressing tomorrow. A dinner party would help lift you out of the doldrums. I've taken the liberty of inviting a few eligible men this evening along with my regular cronies. You are both of a marriageable age and need to be thinking of your marriage prospects. You can both fight over whom you think the most handsome!"
Lucy groaned inside, the false smile still plastered to her face, "You have certainly thought of everything," she said woodenly. The idea of making polite conversation with people above her station and young men seeking Monique's hand in marriage on the eve before her meeting with Perdan was sure to strain her sensibilities. However, Lucy could hardly refuse her host, or Monique for that matter.
"And Miss Goodwin ... "
"Lucy, please, you've known me since we were children."
"And Lucy, I know you may be thinking that all of the men who will be attending dinner this evening will be above your station and have no interest in you as a suitable marriage prospect, but they are men, and they are not blind. Not only are you beautiful, you are Miss Lucy Goodwin, a member of the family of one of the most celebrated horse breeders in England. That fact alone is enough to make some young men salivate. Happy hunting!"
Glenhurst turned to a servant. "Please show our guest to her room." Turning back to Lucy and Monique, he said, "Dinner will be at eight o'clock."
Later, a maid assisted Lucy in dressing for dinner. She chose a cerulean blue gown suitable for half dress and descended to join the family and guests assembled in the drawing room. Upon entering the room, she caught Monique's eye and made her way over to her. Monique circulated about the room with her, introducing her to several titled men and highborn women in attendance.
When the eight o'clock hour arrived, everyone flowed into the elegant dining room where dinner was served on delicate blue and white Wedgewood china in the a la francaise style. The first course consisted of pheasant soup, greenpea soup, julienne soup and puree of grouse.
Lucy's dinner companion was Lord George Murtrey, Earl of Clayton, a handsome young man with an interminable air of boredom about him. When he discovered she was the sister of Lucien Goodwin, Clayton warmed considerably and made polite conversation with her. Lucy tried to keep up her end of the dialogue. She was undoubtedly making a poor showing.
Lucy’s thoughts vacillated between the young man seated beside her and Chalifour. She couldn't help but compare the differences. Clayton seemed so youthful as opposed to Chalifour. Suddenly aware of an expectant silence, Lucy realized Clayton had asked her a question and was awaiting her response.
"I'm terribly sorry, Lord Clayton, could you please repeat your question?"
Looking slightly miffed, Clayton said, "I was inquiring as to whether your brother would be racing in the upcoming Oaks at Epsom?"
"I'm not sure, My Lord. He was injured in a coach accident recently and hasn't made a decision yet." How will that affect us? We've always been represented by Lucien in the large races and his wins have brought great attention to our horses. How will we fare if we have no representation during the race? Just something else to worry her. She stifled the impulse to rub her temples.
"Well, I shall be cheering for your horse should your brother decide to race."
"That is most gracious of you." Lucy turned to Clayton and beamed what she hoped was a breathtaking smile. Clayton smiled in return.
The second course offered braised ham, spring chicken, boiled salmon pigeon pie, venison and lamb followed by the main entrees of lamb cutlets, lobster curry, chicken patties and scallops of chicken. Some time later, the third and final course of roast duck, green goose, prawns, cherry tart, raspberry cream, custard and tartlets were served.
Dinner concluded and the ladies exited the dining room for the drawing room. The women conversed about the usual topics, the new play at the Drury Lane Theater and recent excursions to Astley's Ampitheatre and Vauxhall Gardens. Lucy remained silent, ignoring the exasperated looks from Monique. Eventually, the gentlemen rejoined them and the evening droned on for Lucy.
After what seemed far longer than a few hours, the tea board was brought out and supper was served. The diners selected from the multitude of cakes, biscuits, pasties and sandwiches which were presented. Lucy sighed a relief when the tea board was finally removed and the guests began to depart one by one, though not quickly enough to suit Lucy.
Lucy could scarcely wait to escape to her bed chamber. She was tired and wanted time alone to prepare herself for the meeting with Perdan. Lucy reached her room and closed the door behind herself, grateful for the solitude only to find herself pacing the floor in agitation.
Chapter Eleven
Morning had not come fast enough. Sleep had eluded Lucy all night. She rubbed at her dry and scratchy eyes. Fine sight you'll be, she chided herself. Lucy rose and began to brush out her hair. The maid entered and helped her dress in a simple, white muslin gown trimmed in dainty coquelicot ribbons. Lucy tucked the chemisette over her bosom and checked herself in the mirror.
The white was reminiscent of her mourning and might remind Perdan of her loss, though Lucy doubted he would care. Thinking about Perdan, she patted the chemisette again to make sure it was firmly in place. Taking from her reticule the cheque paper she had signed, Lucy stared at it for a long moment. The paper shook in her hands. When she physically handed the cheque to Perdan, it would be her first real act of forgery. Calm yourself. Lucy exhaled slowly. She needed to charm Perdan, but keep him guessing.
Lucy went downstairs. Over the protest of her stomach, she consumed some tea and toast in the dining room. Formal breakfast would be served later, though Lucy doubted she would be here. Besides, she didn't have much of an appetite. It might be a little gauche to call on Perdan before breakfast was typically served, but she was anxious to be done with this. Moreover, she was calling on a gentleman without the benefit of a chaperone. Monique had offered to accompany her, but she had rejected the notion.
Monique, perhaps sensing Lucy's trepidation, came down earlier than was her custom.
Smiling encouragingly at Lucy, Monique took her hand and squeezed it. "You'll be fine. Flutter your eyes at him and show him your feminine side, you'll have him eating out of your hand."
"We both know that's not true."
"Well, perhaps I was being a little optimistic!"
Lucy laughed. It was good to laugh. She laughed so rarely now. "I just need to make a payment to ensure we are not dishonored of the debt and find out what the terms of this obligation are."
"You most certainly do. Just try to be polite and do your best to win him over, at least a little."
"What if he tries to make advances?"
"You'll just have to use your wits and act accordingly. Are you certain you don’t want me to accompany you?"
"I’m sure. I just want to be done with this."
Monique called the coach for Lucy and directed the coachman to Lord Perdan's townhouse. Lucy climbed into the coach and settled back into the seat. Her eyes, unseeing, registered little of the grand mansions they passed by outside the window. The coach pulled to the front of Perdan’s residence. Lucy removed her filigree card case from her reticule and handed a calling card to the tiger. When was the last time you actually used a calling card? She seldom called on anyone, it was a wonder she remembered the etiquette at all.
Not surprisingly, Lucy was invited inside Perdan’s townhouse. She stepped into the entrance hall, which was not nearly as grand or imposing as that which belonged to Lord Glenhurst. Lucy was led into a receiving room where Perdan stood staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
Perdan turned to face Lucy. "Well, how lovely to see you again, Miss Goodwin. Do you have money for me, or perhaps you have something else in mind?" His eyes slowly traveled the length of her body.
"I brought you a payment, as we agreed."Quelling her nausea at Perdan’s suggestive looks, Lucy reached into her reticule and withdrew the cheque paper.
"What's this? Cheque paper?"
"Yes. You can exchange it at the bank today."
"Rest assured that I will do so."
"Lord Perdan, please tell me more about this debt. My brother has been, well, less than forthcoming." Perhaps because he hasn't been able to speak, Lucy wanted to say.
Perdan examined the amount of the cheque and grunted in approval. "What would you like to know?"
"What is the balance now, after this payment is applied?"
"Six thousand quid. The balance is exactly the same as it was before you paid me."
Lucy gasped. "What do you mean? We, I mean, my brother just paid you a substantial sum! How could the balance not be less?" She stared at him in incomprehension.
Perdan's eyes glittered with avarice, "It's quite simple. Your brother is a cheat. He cheated in a race. I caught him. In exchange for my silence, he pays me."
"How dare you say such a thing! Lucien would never cheat! Ever! He would not do that!" Anger boiled up within Lucy.
"Remember the races Lucien ran in Newmarket last year?"
"Yes, of course. We had a sick horse during the first race."
"You should, perhaps, think back to the scandal a few years ago with the Prince of Wales. Do you see the parallels?"
Lucy returned his stare. "You can't be serious! You know this is a not true."
Perdan's lips turned up into an arrogant smile, "It's my word against your brother's word, or yours, for that matter. I am a peer. Who do you think they will believe, you or me?"
Lucy hated him in that instant. Bitter contempt swelled within her. "You are despicable."
"That may be. However, I am the one holding the money, am I not? Just one hint of scandal and your family name would be ruined. You might have sweet goers, but no one would want to buy them, or be associated with the taint of scandal and cheating. It's doubtful anyone would extend you credit either under those circumstances. What would you do?"
Perdan moved closer to her, much too close. He reached out and took a single curl of Lucy’s hair and wrapped it around his finger. He looked down at Lucy and undressed with his eyes. She refused to flinch under his obvious scrutiny and stared him in the eye.
"I find the proposition of your lovely body scintillating. There’s always room for negotiation there. But money is
equally tantalizing. You and your brother can pay me to keep this sordid matter between ourselves, face disgrace, or share my bed. It’s your choice."
Incredulous at his suggestion, Lucy glared at him, speechless.
"You do not seem overly enthusiastic about sharing my bed, so I take it you would rather pay this debt, which you, or more accurately your brother, will continue to pay on for the rest of his life. You are staying with Lord Glenhurst and are obviously in his good graces. His connections could help your marriage prospects considerably. You could certainly help your brother with an allowance from a well off husband, though I imagine your husband might wonder where you spend your allowance."
Lucy turned on her heel and walked out of the room without a word.
****
Lucy couldn't think. She couldn't feel anything. Her arms and legs wouldn't cooperate and she stumbled into the coach. She was physically ill when she considered Perdan’s suggestion she become his mistress. The allegation of ruin from the spurious charges of cheating was equally repugnant.
"Miss Goodwin! Miss Goodwin! You look pale. Are you all right?"
Lucy blinked her eyes and focused. How many times had the coachman asked her the question before she finally registered their frantic voices? Looking into the coachman and the tiger’s anxious faces, she forced a smile and reassured them, "I'm, I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine."
The coachman studied Lucy a moment, his face dubious. He held her eyes. "Are you quite sure?"
"Yes, I’m sure. Could you please return me to the mansion now?"
"Of course." The driver closed the door of the coach and his weight settled into the driver's seat, tipping the coach slightly. A moment passed and the coach began to rock rhythmically with the horses drawing it down the road. Sighing heavily, Lucy leaned back in the seat.
