by Anne Herries
‘I did no such thing!’
‘He danced with you several times at Dawlish while you had none for me.’
‘He did not come late to the party—besides, you ignored me. You paid attention to Judith and I thought...I must marry one day, and I thought he might do as well as any other if I could not have...’
‘You foolish little goose, how could you?’ Paul’s voice held tenderness, but Lucy did not notice.
She stared at him, the tears very close. How could he speak to her so? How could he look at her as if he thought her a foolish child? Her head went up proudly and she gave him a fierce look.
‘Daventry seemed charming. I did not know what a rogue he was...’ She faltered. ‘If you had...but you did nothing. I thought you had forgotten me...that you never cared for me at all...oh, I cannot bear this.’
‘Lucy...’ Paul took a step towards her, reached out to draw her into his arms, but she would not allow it. She avoided his grasp, ran past him and up the stairs to her room, closing and locking the door after her. Then she flung herself down on the bed and gave vent to her emotions.
* * *
Downstairs in the parlour, Paul hesitated. Lucy was suffering a fit of sensibility and it would have been better if he could have gone after her and made her understand just how much he cared. He realised now that he had been much at fault by keeping his distance when he returned home from Vienna. He should have declared himself at once, but it had not been until he discovered his brother’s secret that his guilt had finally left him. Since then he’d been waiting for the right moment, which was surely now—but to race upstairs and hammer at the bedroom door of a young unmarried lady would cause censure—from the servants and from her mother.
Damn it! He was a clumsy idiot and it was no wonder that Lucy had lost patience with him. He had come here to ask her formally to marry him and ended by distressing the girl he wanted for his wife. Yet her outburst had told him that it was not too late. Had her affections not been engaged she would never have reacted in such a way. The tension left him and he smiled, sure now that his love was returned. It was merely a matter of making amends—and the fault was his entirely.
He’d known what the situation must be and might have avoided this distress had he simply ignored what he’d seen, but he’d wanted to be sure. He’d always known that he wanted Lucy for his wife and he was certain now that she loved him. They had always been meant for each other—but both of them had adored Mark. Lucy had mistaken hero-worship for love, but at that ball, she, like Paul himself, had realised the truth—yet she’d been too young and too nervous to break off her engagement.
When Paul followed his brother to fight against the French, Lucy had still been too young to even think of asking her to save herself for him. She was still a schoolroom miss, he a year and a half older and unready to commit to marriage, though he’d known that one day she would be the woman he wanted to wed. By the time he’d returned from his duty it was too late. Mark had got there before him...she was promised to him and their engagement was to be announced after Lucy’s Season.
Paul had been devastated, but once Mark had proposed, there was nothing he could do. He had tried not to show that he was angry and jealous, but when dancing with Lucy he had almost been undone. It had been in his mind to have it out with Mark, because he’d been certain that his brother was not truly in love with Lucy. Yet he’d hesitated at breakfast when he might have raised the subject for he was unsure of Lucy’s feelings...and then it had been too late.
Mark’s murder had ruined everything. Paul was struck with guilt and grief for the brother he’d truly loved. So deep was his pain that he could hardly bear to look at Lucy. To think of her as free from her promise was to betray Mark and he could not bear it—and so he’d run away, leaving everyone else to bear their sorrow as best they could.
What a fool he had been! Paul’s disgust of his own behaviour had added to his feelings of guilt at inheriting everything that should have been his brother’s. By working hard in Vienna he had managed to find a new path for himself, to accept that he owed it to his father and his people to take up the duties that came with an estate of the size of Ravenscar.
It had taken him longer to bring himself to a position where he could think of Lucy as a possible bride—the only one he truly wanted. Any other would be a compromise and that was hardly fair to his future wife or to himself. Yet he’d hesitated, unsure whether she still felt as she once had towards him.
Now, he had distressed Lucy again. Paul left the house and began to walk towards his lodgings. Cursing himself for a clumsy fool, Paul knew that he must find some way of convincing Lucy that he loved her—and of persuading her to forgive him for hurting her.
He had been selfish, thinking of his own pain. Lucy must have suffered terribly...especially if she had not truly wished to marry his brother. Paul realised that she, too, had been guilty—grieving, but guilty— because she had not loved Mark as a girl should love the man she intended to wed.
Paul wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to his home. He would spend the rest of his life making her happy—but he must be patient. Lucy had been hurt by his reserve and she did not quite trust him. How could he blame her after the way he’d behaved? The blame was entirely his. He must show her that he was to be trusted, show her that he loved her more than life itself—and give her a reason to love him and put her life in his hands.
She was going to stay with Elver for her cousin’s sake. Paul knew he must return to his home and make sure that his father was well and his cousins prepared to stay with Lord Ravenscar for a little longer...and then he would return to Bath. He had promised to escort Lady Dawlish to her home so he must call and ask her when she wished to travel, for if she was not ready he might have to return for her...and he would hope to find that Lucy had forgiven him.
* * *
‘How are you now, Mama?’ Lucy asked as she went into her mother’s bedchamber and found her still in bed. ‘Are you truly unwell?’
Lucy had cried for a short time, then washed her face and used a little powder to cover the ravages of her tears. She had then looked in on Judith, who had decided to get up and was dressing behind a lacquered screen. Now she had come to try to encourage her mama to leave her bed.
‘No, I was just a little tired,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘I have been thinking that I shall return to Dawlish tomorrow if Captain Ravenscar will escort me.’
‘Shall you not come to Elver, Mama? You know that Judith has begged me to keep her company and I think I ought.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m not sure I like that, Lucy. It might be dangerous.’
‘Daventry is not interested in me,’ Lucy said. ‘He paid court to me while it suited him, but I had decided against him, even had he offered. You know that, Mama.’
‘Yes, and I am very glad of it,’ her mother said, forgetting that she’d once considered it a good match for her daughter. ‘Has Paul called this morning?’
‘Yes, he called to see how Judith was...’ Lucy swallowed hard, wishing that her mother would not question her too carefully. ‘I told him you were feeling unwell and he did not stay.’
‘Very proper of him,’ her mother said with a nod of her head. She smiled at Lucy. ‘I think I shall get up now—and then I shall send a note to Paul. If he will escort me home in the morning, I shall ask him to do so.’
‘Yes, Mama, of course.’
‘Well, run away then, my love,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘There are some books that need returning to the lending library on the table by the window. Pray give them to the footman and ask him to take them for me.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Lucy said, picked up the books and took them downstairs.
She handed them to the footman, who promised to take them later that afternoon. Normally, Lucy would have preferred to visit the lending library herself, b
ut she did not feel like walking out in Bath at the moment. It was not that she feared the earl, for as she’d told her mother, he was not interested in her. Besides, he would surely not have recovered from being shot, for even if it was not a serious wound it must be painful.
Lucy’s avoidance of the Bath streets was more to do with the questions that she was sure to be asked, so she sat quietly with a book in the parlour until Judith came down to join her, followed half an hour later by Lady Dawlish. All three ladies were seated in the parlour and about to send for tea when the knocker sounded.
Judith was immediately alert, but when their visitor entered it was discovered that they had two and not one. Elver and Paul had met at the door, it seemed, and in the flurry of greetings, Lucy was able to compose herself enough to greet them both politely.
‘I am delighted to see you both,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘Lucy, ring the bell for tea, my dear. Please be seated, gentlemen.’ She turned to Paul with an enquiring air. ‘Would it trouble you to escort me to Dawlish tomorrow, Captain Ravenscar? I should like to leave about noon—if that would not inconvenience you?’
‘It would suit me perfectly, for I must go home soon to see my father,’ Paul replied, smiling. He glanced at Lucy, arching his brows, but she neither smiled nor spoke, looking at him uncertainly. He smiled at her and was rewarded by a flicker of response in her eyes. ‘I understand that Lucy is to visit Elver with her cousin?’
‘Yes,’ Judith replied. ‘I cannot spare her before my wedding and she has been kind enough to give me her promise. I hope both my aunt and uncle will come down for the wedding—and you, sir, if you can? I owe you a debt I shall never repay.’
‘Not at all,’ Paul replied politely. ‘Lucy was in distress and I promised her I would do all I could. I was fortunate enough to be given accurate information...and even more fortunate to find you when I did.’
‘I do not know what I should have done had you not discovered me,’ Judith said, ‘for I was suffering from the after-effects of that evil drug and felt very ill. Had I passed out, I might have lain all night in the lane.’
‘Fortunately for all of us, Ravenscar was there,’ Elver said. ‘I wish it might have been me, my dearest, but I thought he had taken you to Scotland.’
‘He knew you would, of course,’ she said and gave a little shudder of disgust. ‘I suppose he has not been found?’
‘As yet I have heard nothing. I have sent to London for a Bow Street Runner,’ Elver told her. ‘Such men are skilled in tracking others and I must hope Daventry can be found soon—but within a few days we shall be in Paris, my love. I am certain that by the time we return this matter will all be settled. Abduction is a serious crime and Daventry is going to pay for what he did to you, I give you my word. If he is not killed trying to resist arrest, he shall hang.’
Judith nodded, but added no more to the conversation as the tea tray was brought in. Lady Dawlish proceeded to dispense it and Lucy helped to pass cups and little sandwiches and cakes. After the maids had gone, leaving them to serve themselves, as they preferred when the company was intimate, Lady Dawlish spoke of her niece’s wedding.
‘It will be such a happy occasion, for I dare say you may not have heard, Lord Elver—my daughter is to marry Captain Ravenscar. Their engagement cannot be announced until Lord Dawlish has been consulted, but I am sure he will be only too happy to agree. To have our daughter living so close to us can only be the best of arrangements.’
‘Mama...’ Lucy caught her breath as both Judith and Elver congratulated them. She glanced at Paul and saw that he was smiling and nodding at her and her cheeks burned.
‘Yes, I am very happy that Lucy has agreed to be my wife,’ Paul said, as if nothing had occurred that morning. ‘Our other reason for saying nothing was that we did not wish to steal your thunder, Elver. Our marriage will not be for another couple of months, I dare say.’
Lucy sent him an agonised glance, but he ignored it.
‘Papa has not given his permission yet...’
‘Lucy is right,’ her mother said approvingly. ‘However, I know you will not spread it abroad—and I am so pleased that I could not keep it to myself a moment longer.’
Lucy inhaled deeply, but said nothing. Her mother was making it harder and harder for them to escape the bonds that seemed to be tightening about them. Paul was behaving like the perfect gentleman, but there was no reason why he should have been forced into this situation. He had done nothing but kiss her once—a passionate kiss, it was true, but surely he could not feel it bound him to marriage?
Yet her mother had drawn the net tighter, and if Paul walked away now he would be damned for jilting her—and that could only reflect badly on her. People would be bound to remember her dance and tongues would wag, making something out of nothing.
Lucy felt her insides curling with shame. She did not wish to trap Paul into marriage if he did not want it...and how could he after their stupid quarrel that morning?
If only Mr Havers had not tried to propose to her at the very moment Paul chose to call. He had jumped to conclusions and now thought of her as shallow and a confirmed flirt.
Lucy could feel the heat in her cheeks and would not look at Paul, even though he tried to attract her attention more than once.
When the gentlemen finally took their leave, Paul glanced at her as if to ask if she would go to the door with him, but she merely smiled and wished him a safe journey.
‘I shall not be here when you call for Mama in the morning,’ she said. ‘I shall see you at the wedding, sir.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Paul said and came to kiss her hand. Lucy rose to her feet, looking at him uncertainly as he took her hand in his. ‘It will be all right,’ he spoke softly so that the others could not hear. ‘Do not worry, Lucy. I am very happy to marry you. I’ll be back soon and then we shall talk, my love.’
She was unable to answer, giving him a pleading look and regretting that she had not found an excuse to have a few moments alone with him, as Judith had when she saw her fiancé to the door.
The touch of Paul’s lips on her hand sent a little flutter of pleasure winging through Lucy and in that moment she wished herself in his arms. She would have given anything to be alone with him, to have heard from his own lips just why he was happy to wed her—when surely he could not be.
She was very confused, unable to trust her own feelings or to gauge his properly.
Her eyes met his, trying to read the message he was sending her. Her heart was racing and as he smiled she felt a flicker of hope—of belief that he truly cared for her.
Then, before she could recover her wits, he was gone and she was left to wonder and to regret. How could Paul be happy to wed her? He had never told her that he loved her...or was he simply marrying her because he wanted to make up for all she’d lost when his brother was murdered?
Chapter Thirteen
Lucy spent a restless night, hardly sleeping. Every time she thought about her mother’s unwelcome announcement of her engagement she felt a squirming sensation inside. Paul had spoken reassuringly to her before he left, but how could he do otherwise? He was, after all, a gentleman and had been placed in an impossible situation. Lucy wished with all her heart that it had not happened. She could see no way of escaping the marriage and did not truly wish to—except that the thought of a future spent with a man who had married her from a sense of duty was appalling. Especially as she loved him so very much.
Would Paul do that? Would he marry her out of a sense of misplaced duty? She was very much afraid that he might. After all, she knew that he needed to marry to provide heirs for Ravenscar. She believed it would please his father, because they had formed a bond during his recent illness.
The thought kept her tossing all night long and it was the early hours before she finally slept.
* * *
Ho
wever, in the morning Lucy took a fond farewell of her mama and went off to stay with her friends with a smile on her face. She must not allow herself to be gloomy, though inside she was fretting, unsure whether she wanted Paul to hurry back or not.
Elver’s house was extremely pleasant, a large, light and airy building with several long windows that gave it an agreeable aspect and wonderful views of the gardens. There was a lake to be seen from the west wing and beyond it a huge stretch of beech, ash and oak trees.
Lucy thought it would be pleasant to walk to the lake sometimes, for the weather continued fine and warm. The room she was given looked out towards the lake and was only three doors away from her cousin’s so that they were able to go in and out whenever they pleased.
Judith had driven them here in her phaeton and asked Lucy if she would like to continue her driving lessons now that they had many fine roads to choose about the large estate.
‘It depends on what else you want to do,’ Lucy replied with a smile. ‘There are some pleasant walks in the gardens, Judith—and I dare say you will be busy with fittings for your new gowns.’
Judith agreed that she would, but thought there would be plenty of time for other activities because she was to have only her wedding gown made for the moment.
‘I shall have most of my new gowns made in Paris and I have a new carriage gown for travelling after the wedding.’
Lucy agreed that it was sensible to buy most of her trousseau in Paris. They could simply enjoy the fine weather.
* * *
Since her cousin wished to discover all she could of her husband’s estate, she rode out with Elver in the mornings and took Lucy driving in the afternoons.
Lucy had discovered Elver’s well-stocked library, and what with walks in the garden, her driving lessons and evenings spent in the company of friends invited to dine with them, she discovered the time passed more quickly than she had expected.
At night in her bed, she allowed herself to think about Paul and to dream of what it might be like to marry him. He had changed from the young man she’d fallen in love with years before, becoming more authoritative...and sometimes prone to dark moods. Yet there were moments when he looked at her and she felt her knees weaken, as if she could swoon for pleasure if he took her into his arms.
