by Darcy Burke
“But it’ll be worth it,” Mr. Appleton remarked.
Lucy had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about the sweet taste of the custard, but rather the company.
“All right, gentlemen, the rules state—”
“There are rules posted about this sort of thing?” Simon asked in a stilted tone.
Lucy immediately recognized that was his best attempt at humor for an uncomfortable situation and flashed him an encouraging smile. This was by far, the strangest family she’d ever encountered, and the more she was around them all, the more she realized how unusual it all was and the tension there must be between them all.
“The rules have never actually been penned, no,” Mrs. Appleton allowed. “But they were passed down to me from my mother who heard them from her mother and so forth, so they are just as good as being etched in stone, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh, but of course, nobody would dare argue with Great Grandmama Beatrix,” Mr. Appleton muttered, garnering him a little swat on the shoulder from his wife.
“All right, every bit of custard must be consumed,” Mrs. Appleton said. “The first to do so will be declared the winner.”
“Is there a prize?” Seth asked.
“’Course there is,” Mr. Appleton said without hesitation. “But you needn’t worry about it, boy, I don’t plan to lose.”
Seth grinned and shook his head. “We’ll see about that.”
Mr. Appleton laughed and winked at Seth then poked his lower lip out. “What of a boon for the winner, boys?”
Simon pursed his lips, but nodded. Giles gave a single nod, his expression impossible to interpret. Seth looked a little disappointed at first, but then just shrugged. Likely, if he were to win, he’d ask for what he would have wanted the prize to be anyway.
“All right, gentlemen, now that that’s settled,” Mrs. Appleton started. “Put your hands in your laps.” She lifted three fingers into the air. “Ready? Three. Two. One. Go!”
Seth was the first to grab his bowl and spoon and start shoveling spoonfuls of the yellow fluff into his mouth. Simon used a similar tactic then used the edge of his spoon to scrape every last glob off the edge of his bowl. Giles had a different approach entirely and lifted the bowl to his lips and scraped its contents into his mouth. Oddly enough Mr. Appleton was doing the same thing and was the first to put his empty bowl down with a loud thud and lift the next.
Giles and Simon each finished their first bowl at the same time with Seth only a second behind.
Lucy couldn’t help herself and laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“Is something funny?” Simon asked her between bites.
“Yes.”
With that, Simon lowered his half-eaten bowl of custard to the table and for what must have been the first time since they’d met, grinned at her. A full, uninhibited grin that made him look exceedingly handsome. She turned her attention away before she inadvertently gave him the wrong idea. His father finished his second bowl and set it down with a much softer tap than the first. The look in his green eyes said he wanted to win in the worst way, but the way his face was turning green to match his eyes, said he was on the verge of being ill from so much sugar.
He picked up his third bowl and only ate two bites before lowering it back to the table and wiping his mouth. Defeat and perhaps disappointment, stamped on his face.
“You’re not going to quit, too, are you, Lord Norcourt?” Seth asked suddenly. “Not that I mind winning, mind you.” He shrugged. “It just doesn’t seem right if it’s only because everyone else quit.”
Giles picked up his last bowl of custard—like Mr. Appleton, he didn’t look like he wanted to torture himself with eating anymore. Lucy was about to suggest everyone agree to a draw when Lord Norcourt spoke again.
“No. I’m not quitting. I just wanted to give you a chance to catch up.” Then, with a quick grin he lifted his bowl of custard back to his lips.
Seth wasn’t far behind. In fact, they both appeared to be quite close and it was nearly impossible to tell who’d put their bowl down a split-second before the other.
“It appears as if we have a tie,” Mrs. Appleton announced.
“No, he won,” Giles said. “I dropped some on the floor.”
Mrs. Appleton looked hesitant almost like she believed his tale about as much as Lucy did, then the look was gone. “Well then, Seth here is our winner, and as such, he may ask for a boon.”
“Can I save it?” Seth asked, surprising Lucy.
“Of course you may.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I am off to see Cook about a tonic to cure the unease from overindulging on custard. Would anyone else like one? Simon? Gi—Norcourt? Seth?”
“Please,” Giles said.
“I don’t need one,” Simon said.
“Neither do I,” Seth agreed, stifling a yawn.
“You’re welcome to go whenever you’re ready, Lucy,” Mrs. Appleton informed her as soon as Mr. Appleton was out of the room. “I know you both have had a tiring day.”
“Thank you. I don’t mean to seem impolite—”
“Nonsense. I didn’t expect you to stay and play parlor games all night.” She smiled. “You can if you’d like, of course, but I won’t be offended if you’re ready to go.”
Giles leapt to his feet. “I’ll take you home.”
Lucy’s skin tingled with something she didn’t recognize—which was silly. She’d traveled all the way to London not just riding in Giles’ carriage, but sitting upon his lap. She fought to keep the blush off her cheeks and didn’t dare chance a glance at him. Or anyone else in the room who might have gotten the wrong impression from his offer. “That’s most kind of you, but we can walk.”
“It’s too far.”
He had a point. The library was three miles from the Appleton home and it was already dark. She really didn’t want to walk that far anyway, but especially not in the dark.
“I can take you, if you’d like,” Simon offered. “Nobody will suspect anything is amiss about seeing my family carriage going to the library at this hour.”
She might have laughed at his logic had Giles not been in the room with them. She’d never been concerned about her own reputation. Being born the daughter of a servant who had a viscount’s bastard at the age of seventeen, there really wasn’t anything that could make it worse. At least not for her. Likely it wouldn’t damage Giles’ reputation to be seen with a woman who might be his mistress, but likely he didn’t realize how much of a pariah she actually was or how it could affect him if someone made her past sins public knowledge. He didn’t deserve that.
Sensing everyone was staring at her, waiting for a decision, she said, “All right, Mr. Appleton, if you insist, I’d be most appreciative if you’d see us back to the library.”
Giles felt like a fool. No, Giles was a fool. He remained in his same frozen stance until Lucy, Seth and Simon were out of the room, too mortified by his earlier blurted offer to do anything other than breathe. And even that had become a struggle. Why had he offered to take her home? Because he wanted to. Well, he shouldn’t. Never mind that he lived less than two blocks down the street from the library. She was interested in Simon and if their smiles and laughter earlier hadn’t been enough to prove it, her accepting his offer over Giles’ was enough to make it as good as chiseled in stone. Or on his heart. Both places would have the same impact.
Beside him, his mother said something about someone not meaning to upset someone else. He couldn’t really hear her words over the blood pounding in his ears.
“Norcourt.” Mr. Appleton’s loud voice penetrated his thoughts more than his mother’s had. “Here’s a tonic.”
“No, thank you.” His stomach was the last thing he was concerned about now. His stupid brain, confounded tongue, and most of all his aching heart all took precedence. He forced his heavy feet to take a step backwards. “Thank you. Custard was good.”
His mother jumped up. “You’re welcome to stay, Giles. We can g
o to the parlor and talk.”
“No.” He flinched at the roughness in his own tone and the way his already hot face suddenly felt like it was being touched with lava. “I need to go.”
His mother opened her mouth to say something more and thankfully was stopped by Mr. Appleton who didn’t say anything, but just placed a hand on her shoulder.
With a nod of appreciation to the man who had such a striking resemblance to him it was unnerving, he made his way from the room and to his carriage that was still waiting for him on the street.
Lucy climbed inside the Appleton carriage just in time to glimpse Giles emerging from the Appleton’s house. Simon murmured another apology for how long it took for the coachman to be located. Lucy waved him off and watched Giles as he ascended into his waiting carriage that was just in front of them. He was quite handsome with his tall, broad stature and chiseled looks. Most certainly what most would consider a fine catch. She jerked her eyes away from him and took an interest in arranging her skirts.
Paying her no heed, Seth plopped down next to her, pinning her skirt to the satin bench. She lifted her eyebrow at him. In a manner that bespoke his age, he gripped the part of her skirt he was sitting on and yanked it out from under his bottom.
“I’ll just sit over here,” Simon murmured, settling in on the bench across from Lucy and Seth.
“I’ll join you,” Seth said, bouncing off his current seat and joining Simon.
Simon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he moved closer to the side to make room.
“Sorry, Mama doesn’t like it when I sit on her skirts,” Seth offered by way of explanation.
Simon nodded. “And does your mama like gardens, I wonder?”
“No,” Seth answered for her though she knew the question wasn’t really directed at him. “She hates to have to pull the weeds and gets fussy when a rodent gets into her vegetables.”
Simon laughed. “I see…” An amused expression came over his face. “What of gardens full of vendors and marvels? Would that better suit the lady?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Lucy said, trying to hide her unease at being called a lady. She was anything but.
Simon stretched his legs out in front of himself, accidentally bumping her ankle with his calf as he did so. “Pardon me,” he murmured, moving his leg away. “Have either of you ever heard of Covent Gardens?”
“Yes,” Lucy whispered at the same time Seth said, “No.”
“It’s not to be missed,” Simon said excitedly. “There are entertainers of every kind—jesters, jugglers, men doing tricks with cards, horses, knives, anything you can think of, even actors perform there.” He lowered his voice. “And sometimes they’ll have displays of old war weapons or dinosaur bones. It’s quite a sight.”
Lucy wasn’t so convinced. Sam had once explained Covent Gardens and all of their splendor to her. She’d been so excited at the prospect that one day he’d take her there that she hadn’t been able to sleep for two entire nights. Now she didn’t think it was possible to be any less interested in the fun they boasted.
Seth was interested though and only because of that did she not try to change the subject. Instead she stared out the slim window above Simon and Seth’s heads and mindlessly noted that Giles’ carriage took the same path home as they were taking to the library. Their carriage lurched to a sudden stop, halting Simon’s descriptions and making Seth crane his neck to see what was going on out the window.
“Is that Lord Norcourt’s house?” he asked, presumably when he noticed the same thing Lucy had: Giles getting out of his carriage that was pulled to the side of the street and going inside.
Simon nodded his agreement then continued to describe the food at Covent Gardens.
Thankfully it was only a few more torturous moments until they arrived at the library.
“Seth, why don’t you go on upstairs? I’d like to talk to your mama a moment.”
Seth hesitated.
“It’s all right,” Lucy assured her son.
“Have you given any consideration to my earlier offer?” Simon asked after Seth was gone.
“To go to Covent Gardens?” Lucy ventured hesitantly. Perhaps she should have listened a little more intently in the carriage.
He smiled. “I’d be glad to take you there.”
“I’d rather not go,” she blurted.
“All right,” he said slowly. He drummed his fingertips along the edge of the table. “You’d prefer not to go to Covent Gardens—” he cocked his head to the side— “or anywhere in London?”
Ah, that’s what he’d meant. His offer to show her a few places around London. She exhaled. “Neither.”
“Neither,” he echoed in a tone she couldn’t place as either disappointed or bewildered. “May I ask why?”
There really wasn’t an easy way to say this. “Simon, I know you mean well, but I can’t.”
“Mean well?”
She ran her clammy hands over her skirt. “I understand that you’re appreciative that I was able to attend to you when you were hurt, but your family has already repaid me more than I deserve.” She swallowed. “Far more. Truly, anyone with half a heart would have helped a man in need.”
“You think that’s why I asked you to see London?”
“Well, yes. There’s no other reason…”
“Perhaps I enjoy your company,” Simon rebutted.
Lucy would have fallen to the floor in disbelief if she’d not had one hand resting on the table. “Pardon?”
“Is it so hard to understand? You’re very charming, when you wish to be.”
She arched a brow at him. “When I wish to be?”
He nodded and stepped closer. “You don’t speak often, but when you do it never fails to capture my attention.”
Lucy stared at him, dumbfounded. Was he flirting with her again? A nervous giggle caught in her throat and she coughed to suppress it.
“Is it so hard to believe I might have a genuine interest in you?” he continued.
“Yes.” She covered her mouth with her hand with an echoing pop.
“It shouldn’t be,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not nobility, Lucy. My half-brother might have a title, but I couldn’t care less. Nor does anyone of any importance to me care whom I marry.”
“Marry?” She took a shaky step backward. Marriage was the last thing she was concerned with.
“Perhaps one day, but there needs to be a courtship first,” he said with a grin that confirmed he didn’t understand her reaction. He reached for her, but she didn’t give him her hand. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean to insult you by alluding to your lower station. I just meant that who I marry doesn’t matter to anyone the way it matters who Giles marries.”
Lucy stared at him. He had to have the thickest skull of anyone she’d ever met. “While I’m flattered that you’d find a match with me acceptable, I’m afraid that I must decline.” Then, without giving him a moment to say anything to make either of them any more uncomfortable, she spun around and went up to her apartment.
FIFTEEN
Giles gripped the arms of his chair, let out a deep breath, forced his eyes to the papers in front of him and commanded himself to make sense of it.
No such luck.
He’d been reading the same documents for two days now and couldn’t understand hardly any of it.
“What’s that?”
Giles’ head snapped up and his hands reached out to push the papers away. In his haste, he knocked them to the floor.
Sebastian, his unannounced visitor, came to his desk and knelt down to help Giles gather the papers. “Is something wrong?”
Wordlessly, Giles took the papers from Sebastian and pushed them into a stack. “No.”
“Giles?”
“How is your wife?”
Sebastian smiled and shook his head. “Clever tactic.” He made himself comfortable in a chair. “I don’t know yet. I’ve been invited to the Townsons’ ball tonight a
nd I’m hoping to see her there.”
“See her?”
Sebastian crossed his ankles. “It’s difficult to explain, but right now, I’ll be content to see her and beg for an audience.”
Giles lifted his eyebrows. “Beg?” He could hardly imagine Sebastian on his knees dressed in his dove trousers and blue coat begging anyone for anything. Actually, now that he thought about it, the mental image was quite humorous.
“Laugh if you must, but it might be my only way to get her back.”
“Back? Aren’t you still married to her?”
“I am.” He frowned. “I was. I—” he twisted his lips and sighed— “I signed the annulment papers.”
“You did?”
“It might be the only way to get her back.” Sebastian knocked the sides of his leather boots together. “Now, enough about me, what is it that has caught your fancy and made you not come to White’s for the past five days?” He wagged his eyebrows. “Lucy?”
Giles’ face flushed. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed so much that his friend knew he’d taken a fancy to her, but rather the reminder once again that he could never have her. “No.”
“There are other ladies, Giles,” Sebastian said quietly.
“I don’t care.” Giles picked up the stack of papers he’d earlier tried to make sense of and thrust them at Sebastian. “I can’t make sense of these. Cosgrove said I had to marry and produce an heir within the next two years but I don’t see anything in here that supports it. And I don’t know what to look for.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “There are twenty-eight pages to that damn document and after reading them over for two days I have no idea what twenty-six of them mean.”
Sebastian read one. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what I just read, either.”
In spite of his frustration, Giles allowed a small smile. “I don’t care if that says I have to marry to get my inheritance. I was fine without.”
“So then why are you troubling yourself with trying to read it?”
Giles bit his lip. “The library.”
