by Jen Turano
“Were you hiding behind the curtains?” Iris demanded.
“Obviously,” Lucetta said as she headed across the room, stepping in between Iris, who was looking indignant, and Mr. Skukman, who’d adopted his most intimidating pose—a pose that didn’t appear to intimidate Iris in the least.
“Now then,” Lucetta began, sending Mr. Skukman a frown when he cracked his knuckles, “from what I overheard, you’re here, Mrs. Haverstein, to learn why I rejected Bram’s offer.”
Iris lifted her chin. “That’s one of the reasons I’ve sought you out.”
“Lovely, and before we address those other reasons, allow me to say that the reason I refused Bram’s proposal was because your son was offering to marry a woman who doesn’t exist. He simply has yet to realize that.”
Iris narrowed her eyes. “Bram could provide you with everything.”
“I’m fairly good at providing for myself, Mrs. Haverstein.”
Iris’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “What are you really playing at? Are you, by chance, hoping that because you turned him down, he’ll make you a better offer?”
Lucetta’s brows drew together. “What else could he possibly offer me that would be more appealing than his name?”
For a second, Iris looked a little taken aback, but she rallied quickly. “You may be the type of woman who prefers the freedom spinsterhood provides, so I would imagine you’re holding out for a nice place in the city, replete with all the fashionable amenities.”
Even though Lucetta was well aware of the reputation most actresses were assumed to enjoy, and even though such insinuations normally never bothered her, a sliver of hurt wormed its way into her heart. Before she could summon up a suitable response, though, Abigail suddenly breezed into the room.
“Lucetta is like a granddaughter to me, Iris, and as such, you will treat her accordingly, as well as apologize for your serious lack of manners,” Abigail said as she plunked her hands on her hips and scowled at her daughter.
At first, it seemed that Iris wanted to argue the point, but then she blew out a breath and nodded Lucetta’s way. “My mother is quite right. That was unkind of me, and unfair. Forgive me.”
Lucetta lifted her chin. “I’m sure discovering that your son extended his name to an actress has you feeling out of sorts, Mrs. Haverstein, but . . . if you’ll recall, I did refuse him, so I don’t exactly understand why you’re so put out with me.”
“She’s not put out with you, dear,” Abigail said before Iris could respond. “She’s put out with me but taking her frustrations about that out on you.” She held up her hand when Iris opened her mouth. “You see, I made the mistake of telling her I felt that you and Bram would suit each other admirably, which is why she is now dead set against the two of you making a match of it.”
“Because you have no skill at all when it comes to the delicate art of matchmaking, Mother,” Iris began. “That, if you’ll recall, was proven many years ago when you tried to pull off what would have been the tragedy of the century by trying to match me with Mr. Gilbert.” Iris turned to Lucetta. “You were not present when this bit of history was brought up yesterday, but do know that my mother chose a completely unsuitable gentleman for me to marry, one who had all the right social connections but didn’t stir my heart in the least. She even went so far as to convince this Mr. Gilbert to spring a surprise proposal on me in the middle of a society ball. That embarrassing episode is exactly what had me fleeing New York, marrying my Mr. Haverstein, and vowing to forsake New York society forever.”
Missing pieces of the puzzle that surrounded Abigail began falling into place.
Lucetta had always known there was something in Abigail’s past, some unfortunate event that Abigail regretted, that had been behind her taking in three young ladies from the Lower East Side. While the claim had been made that Abigail had been so generous simply because of her friendship with Reverend Thomas Gilmore, a dear man who’d saved Lucetta from the streets when she’d been little more than a child, it was now becoming clear that the true reason behind Abigail’s generosity might have had more to do with her seeking redemption for a past wrong than for fulfilling any favors requested.
Reverend Gilmore, being a very intuitive sort, had likely known what Abigail’s heart had needed all along. By asking Abigail to help Lucetta and her friends get on their way to a better life, he’d given Abigail a purpose and a way to compensate for the mistakes she’d made in the past with her own daughter.
What was certainly going to be fodder for future contemplation was this: Because Abigail had become involved in Lucetta’s life, and that involvement had led to their being at Ravenwood—which had put Abigail in direct contact with her daughter—it almost seemed as if God was orchestrating some type of plan. What that plan was exactly . . . well, it was far too soon to know, but Lucetta was fairly sure it had something to do with healing the wounds of the past.
Further thoughts on the matter were pushed firmly aside when a young lady took that moment to sweep into the room, dressed in the latest fashions. Her suit was tailored to perfection and drew attention to her small waist, the tasteful bustle attached to her backside further emphasizing that smallness. The wide-brimmed hat she wore perfectly matched the green in her suit, but unlike most fashionable hats of the day, this hat did not sport so much as a single feather, having, instead, a large piece of ribbon drawn up into a bow. Her dark hair, styled to perfection, complemented a creamy complexion, and the young lady’s blue eyes were filled with excitement as they glanced around the room.
“I do hope I haven’t missed anything of importance,” the young lady said as she breezed up to Iris, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then let out a laugh before she hurried to greet Abigail.
“Grandmamma, it’s wonderful to see you. Mother told me yesterday that you were here, but . . . she wouldn’t let me visit, saying you were exhausted from your travels or some such nonsense.”
“Ruby!” Abigail exclaimed, leaning forward to accept the kiss the young lady planted on her cheek. “You are looking charming as ever.” Abigail stepped back and took hold of Ruby’s hand. “Come, I want you to meet a friend of mine.” Pulling the young lady farther into the room, she brought her to a stop right in front of Lucetta. “My dear Ruby, this is—”
“Miss Lucetta Plum,” Ruby finished for Abigail before she moved closer to Lucetta and beamed a smile filled with delight her way. “I’m Miss Ruby Haverstein, Abigail’s granddaughter.” She sent Lucetta an unexpected wink. “Rumor has it that you and I may well be sisters someday soon.”
Iris released a sigh. “Honestly, Ruby, we’ve been over this a hundred times in the past day. Bram and Miss Plum will not be getting married. Your brother was simply being chivalrous, something he tends to do on a far too frequent basis.”
“You say that as if chivalry is not a welcome trait for a gentleman to have,” Ruby said slowly. “Why, having been involved with a gentleman who turned out to have not a single chivalrous bone in his body, I can well attest to the allure that an old-fashioned gentleman with old-fashioned values has to a woman in these trying times.”
“Hear, hear.”
Lucetta blinked and glanced around Ruby, her lips curving when her gaze settled on Mr. Skukman. He’d apparently been responsible for the “Hear, hear,” yet he was now looking as if he didn’t quite understand how those words had slipped from his mouth.
Ruby glanced around as well, and to Lucetta’s surprise, the young lady stepped directly up to Mr. Skukman and dipped into a curtsy. “I do beg your pardon, sir. I’m afraid I neglected to notice there was someone else in the room, even though . . .” She stepped back and considered him for a moment, the consideration likely the reason Mr. Skukman’s face began to turn an interesting shade of red. “You’re quite intimidating, aren’t you.”
“Ruby, what a thing to say,” Iris muttered, stepping up beside her daughter. “This is Mr. Skukman, Miss Plum’s personal guard. Mr. Skukman, this is my daughter, Miss R
uby Haverstein.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Haverstein. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I think I’ve had quite enough of ladies for the day.” Mr. Skukman strode for the door, handing Lucetta the hammer he’d been using to test the fireplace wall as he passed her. “You can have them help you,” he said before he disappeared from sight.
“He seems like a delightful man,” Ruby said to no one in particular. “Is he married?”
Abigail sent a knowing look Iris’s way. “And this would explain why you didn’t want to discuss Ruby yesterday.” She shook her head. “Not having difficulties, I ask you?”
“Ruby has been in an unusual frame of mind ever since Mr. Geoffrey Jensen discontinued his association with her. It certainly didn’t help matters much when he took up with Miss Darla Crofter while we were just beginning our holiday in Paris this past spring,” Iris said.
“He didn’t take up with Miss Crofter, Mother,” Ruby said, pulling the gloves from her hands. “He married her, abandoning me in the process.” She moved over to a chair situated by the fireplace and took a seat. “I suppose we can be thankful I haven’t been introduced into society quite yet, which allowed that unfortunate abandoning to go unremarked.”
“You want to become introduced to society?” Abigail asked slowly as she lowered herself into the closest available chair to her, almost as if her legs were about to give out from shock.
“Ruby will not be traveling within society,” Iris said, plopping down into a chair right beside Abigail. “I turned my back on society long ago, and I will not go begging on bended knee to my old friends, asking them to sponsor Ruby simply because she wants to teach Mr. Geoffrey Jensen a lesson.”
Lucetta absently took a seat, watching as Ruby seemed to swell on the spot.
“I’m twenty-three years old, Mother. A spinster, for all intents and purposes, since I wasted so much time on Geoffrey. I have no prospects at the moment, even given Father’s large fortune and the extremely large dowry he’s offered to any gentleman who might care to take me away. Why, it’s little wonder I’ve developed the peculiar habit of considering any gentleman under the age of fifty with a discerning eye, especially since I don’t travel in circles that allow me to be in the regular company of suitable gentlemen.”
“Oh, here we go,” Iris muttered.
Ruby completely ignored her mother’s remark as she directed her attention Lucetta’s way. “Since my mother has refused to arrange my introduction into society, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands, and . . .” She suddenly beamed a bright smile Lucetta’s way. “You’re exactly the lady who can help me.”
Keeping her gaze staunchly fixed on Ruby, especially since Iris had begun to sputter, Lucetta cleared her throat. “Am I to understand, Miss Haverstein, that you want me to question Mr. Skukman for you and see how old he is?”
“Please, call me Ruby, and no, that’s not what I had in mind at all. However . . . how old is Mr. Skukman?”
“I think he may be around thirty, but . . . I’m not swearing to that.”
“Ah, that’s not old at all, especially considering I’m twenty-three, but . . . I’m getting completely distracted from the subject at hand.” She leaned forward. “You see, without the proper backing of a society matron, if I have any hope of being invited into society, I need to show that I’d be a welcome addition to any and all society events.” She nodded determinedly. “Which means I need to become the belle of the ball.”
“Oh . . . dear,” Iris said as she buried her head in her hands.
“How do you plan to do that?” Lucetta asked slowly.
“I need an escort who everyone will want to meet, and that escort needs to be a gentleman of consequence.” She beamed another smile Lucetta’s way. “That’s where you come in. I’ve never been introduced to the gentleman I have in mind, but since everyone knows he specifically wrote The Lady in the Tower for you, I’m quite certain you’re well acquainted with him.”
“You want me to introduce you to Mr. Grimstone?” Lucetta asked.
“Indeed.”
“And . . . then what?” Lucetta asked slowly.
“We must convince him that his greatest desire is to marry me, of course.”
11
Igor, round them up,” Bram called, watching as Igor released a sharp bark and then began tearing around the small cluster of sheep Bram had brought with him to the far pasture. He’d never taken the sheep to this particular pasture before, and it had been quite the feat, getting his less than trained band of mutts to herd them such a distance. But he’d needed to get as far away from the castle as possible—or rather, get as far away from Miss Lucetta Plum as possible—because quite honestly, he’d needed to seek out a place of peace and quiet in order to finally sort out his thoughts.
Lifting his face to the late October sun, he realized that the only thing he’d managed to sort out during the numerous hours he’d been avoiding the castle was the fact that he’d made a complete idiot of himself with Lucetta.
He certainly hadn’t intended to offer her a marriage proposal in such an impulsive manner. It had just happened. But then, when she’d very kindly turned down his offer, in a tone of voice one usually reserved for the very ill, he’d begun to get the most unpleasant feeling that he might have spent three very long years pining after a woman who didn’t actually exist.
The woman he’d thought he was in love with was a most delicate sort, fragile, needy, a bit melancholy upon occasion, and too beautiful for words, of course.
While Lucetta’s beauty was even more impressive close up, that was seemingly the only thing he’d gotten right about the lady. She was not delicate in the least, and didn’t appear to possess a melancholy demeanor. The case couldn’t even be made that she was fragile, considering she’d managed to outrun a goat bent on bodily harm, without dissolving into a bout of hysterics.
In all honesty, the best word to describe Miss Lucetta Plum was . . . practical.
It was a disappointing word—practical—not romantic at all, and certainly not a word he’d ever thought he’d be using in regard to Lucetta.
The bleating of the sheep shook him out of his thoughts. Turning his attention back to the flock, he blew out a breath. Igor was still dashing around the sheep, in rapid circles, his tail wagging furiously. While his herding attempt was certainly enthusiastic, the only progress he was making was to make the sheep dizzy, except for the one that had actually stretched out across the brown grass of the field and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep.
“I see training is going well.”
Looking over his shoulder, Bram felt his stomach drop when he caught sight of Lucetta walking his way, no hat on her head, or parasol to protect her skin from the rays of the sun.
He found he was not really surprised by that, nor was he surprised by the fact her hair was styled in two simple braids, those braids making her appear remarkably young and certainly not the sophisticate everyone assumed her to be.
Turning to face her, the unexpected thought flickered through Bram’s mind that, even if she wasn’t what he’d thought her to be, he was finding himself more and more intrigued by her, as if she were a mystery he desperately needed to solve.
That idea had him shuddering ever so slightly.
He’d never considered, not once, that he’d ever find Miss Lucetta Plum to be a mysterious soul. In fact, when he’d considered her—and he’d considered her quite often—it had always been with the certainty that, if he were successful in winning her over, she’d be a lady for him to take care of for the rest of her life, not a lady that he’d be able to converse with, laugh with, or heaven forbid, appreciate her opinions.
Igor suddenly let out a sharp bark of welcome right before he abandoned the sheep and dashed Lucetta’s way. Montresor yawned before he got up from where he’d been lying on the ground watching the sheep, while Bram’s other two dogs, Brutus and Victor, scampered way.
Lucetta bent down, gave Igor a g
ood scratch, then straightened, only to bend down again when Montresor caught sight of her and scampered over to greet her. Scooping the little dog up, she snuggled it close as she straightened, sending Bram a smile. “They may not have gotten the herding business down yet, Bram, but my goodness, they sure are adorable.” She nodded to where Brutus and Victor were sitting quite a distance away now. “Do they not care for ladies either, just like Geoffrey?”
“They don’t really care for anyone and only tolerate me because I feed them.”
Walking toward him, Lucetta smiled. “You really are a rather nice man, aren’t you. And speaking of nice, I can see why you’ve chosen this spot to hide out today. It’s beautiful out here—what with the colors of fall surrounding you and the last days of what has to be an Indian summer warming the air. And . . .” She grinned. “It’s very quiet.”
He couldn’t help but return the grin. “My grandmother’s finally rested up?”
“Indeed, and your mother and sister have arrived at the castle as well.”
“Oh . . .”
She looked around the pasture and then walked up to a spot where the grass had been well and truly trampled and took a seat. Taking a second to settle Montresor on top of her skirt, she patted the spot beside her. “Come join me.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I thought we’d agreed we were going to be friends.”
“I don’t recall us actually getting around to agreeing to that.”
“You’re trying my patience. Take a seat.”
Knowing he’d come across as churlish if he refused, Bram lowered himself down beside her. “I never realized you have a propensity for bossiness.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“I’m not certain I’d agree with that.”
Lucetta surprised him when she grinned again. “You’re just out of sorts because I’m not what you imagined me to be, and now you’re probably embarrassed over the whole offering to marry me business—and relieved as well, I might add.”
