Love for Lucinda

by Gayle Buck

  Ferdie’s pale countenance lost another shade. Lord Mays’s expression was smoldering, his wide stance remarkably menacing. Ferdie recalled that his lordship was accounted as quite a bruiser in the ring. Vividly he recalled the power behind the one blow that had knocked him off his feet. His instinct for survival was roused to alarm.

  Ferdie began edging toward the door. “You misunderstand me, my lord. I would not dream of offering threat to my cousin. Dear me, no! I meant merely that dear Lucinda’s conscience, which has been oddly suspended throughout this unfortunate episode, shall some day smite her.”

  He was near enough to the door then to breathe a little freer, and he could not resist the final word. “I shall await in confidence for that day and your certain apologies, dear cousin!” Then he nipped through the door, slamming it shut behind him, and was gone.

  Lucinda went straight into a peal of laughter. She fell into a wing chair, her head falling back against the cushions, still laughing. Lord Mays rested his elbows on the back of another chair and regarded her with a smiling face.

  A few moments later, Lucinda regained some measure of control. She shook her head at Lord Mays, still chuckling. “I never thought to see my cousin put at such disadvantage. It was truly a delight to behold!”

  Lord Mays placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head, taking an actor’s bow. He straightened, his crooked grin in place, saying, “I was happy to be of service once again. It is becoming a habit with me, it seems.”

  Lucinda stood up and crossed to him. She took his hand and laid the back of it against her cheek. “You are becoming a very nice habit, Wilfred.”

  Her smiling gaze looked straight into his eyes. Lord Mays sobered. He reached up his other hand and touched her face. His fingers caressed her cheek. There came a startled expression into Lucinda’s eyes. What might have been said or done was never to be known, for at that instant the door opened.

  Lucinda and Lord Mays broke apart. By the time a footman had entered, a number of feet separated them. Lord Mays was contemplating the view from the window, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Lady Mays was softly running her fingers over the keys of the pianoforte.

  The footman paused, sensing something electric in the atmosphere. He was carrying a dustbin and broom. “Begging your pardon, m’lady, but Mr. Church said as how he had noticed that there was a broken vase.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Lucinda in a cool voice. “It was accidentally toppled earlier by Mr. Stassart.” She stood, intertwining her fingers in front of her. “I should go up to see how Agnes is doing. She was not feeling well, as you know, my lord.”

  “Of course,” said Lord Mays, picking up his cue. He strode forward and took the hand that she held out to him. He stood looking at her for a long moment, then managed to smile. “I shall wait on you another day, my lady.”

  Lucinda nodded, and she watched as Lord Mays turned and walked away from her.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Miss Mays had naturally been frightened that her shocking lapse with Mr. Stassart had been her ultimate undoing, for Miss Blythe had given her a thundering scold for her foolishness. But Miss Blythe had completely understood that it had not been her fault that Mr. Stassart had tried to kiss her.

  “That will happen on occasion. However, Agnes, you showed ingratitude and extreme lack of judgment to then reject Lord Mays’s service on your behalf,” had said Miss Blythe sternly.

  “But poor Mr. Stassart!”

  Miss Blythe threw up her hand. “Pray do not speak to me of that deceiving creature again, Agnes. I will not hear it! You will do better not to mention his name to her ladyship, either.”

  Miss Mays had awaited her interview with Lady Mays with shivering trepidation, for in her mind she had acted so wickedly that she could not be pardoned. However, beyond also giving her a scold, dear kind Lady Mays had not sent her away in disgrace. Thus Miss Mays had not missed a single invitation that was subsequently delivered to Mays House.

  In the weeks that followed, Lucinda and her two companions embarked on an orgy of social functions and affairs. One of the most notable was Lady Bishop’s ball.

  The gathering itself was a rather insipid affair, Lucinda thought, glancing about her critically at the meager company. However, Lady Bishop had treated the ladies with flattering consideration. Lucinda and Miss Blythe were assured of possible attention from their hostess. Her ladyship had also kept her word and exerted herself to be certain that Miss Mays never lacked for a partner.

  Early on, Lady Bishop had introduced her brother to Miss Mays. The Honorable St. Ives Bradford bowed over Miss Mays’s hand and diffidently solicited her for a waltz.

  “Oh! I don’t think . . .” Miss Mays threw a rather wild glance at Lucinda.

  “My sister-in-law has not yet been to Almack’s, and so she has not been granted permission to waltz,” said Lucinda smoothly. “Perhaps a round dance instead?”

  She had been rewarded with such a relieved look from Miss Mays that Lucinda had wondered at it. The Honorable Mr. Bradford had accepted the rebuff with good grace. He had stood beside them for a few minutes, making desultory conversation. His eyes rarely deviated from Miss Mays’s face even when he was addressing Lady Mays. Lucinda thought this, too, was odd. There was little of vanity in her, but she was too used to admiration not to notice its absence. She noticed also her sister-in-law’s nervousness.

  When the gentleman at last moved off, she at once inquired, “Agnes, what is it about Mr. Bradford that has you in such a twitter?”

  “He ... he looks at me so!” Miss Mays could not articulate herself any better than that, and she cast a despairing glance at Lucinda.

  Lucinda smiled and patted her hand. “You need not stand up with him if you don’t wish to, Agnes. I don’t expect you to like every gentleman that crosses your path.”

  “Thank you. Lady Mays!” said Miss Mays. “I don’t know how it is, but I cannot like Mr. Bradford.”

  Both ladies were subsequently claimed for the next set, and it was not until some minutes later that Mr. Bradford was once more brought to Lucinda’s attention. Mrs. Conagher, a sturdy lady whom she had met at Lady Sefton’s soiree, recognized her with a friendly word. The lady lazily plied her fan, commenting on the dullness of the party. “I wouldn’t have come except that I had already pledged my word to Lady Bishop. I knew how it would be, of course. Lady Bishop is a notorious nipcheese and always offers the most indifferent refreshments. However, one does not wish to give offense.”

  “No, indeed,” responded Lucinda. “However, the smallness of the company probably does very well for my sister-in-law, Miss Mays. She is unused to large gatherings as yet.”

  “A rather tongue-tied young woman. I do not envy you the task of puffing her off, especially given her age,” said Mrs. Conagher. “She will do well enough, I suppose, if you do not look very high for her. I must say that I am surprised that you would encourage St. Ives Bradford, however.”

  Lucinda threw a sharp glance at the lady. “What do you mean, ma’am? I was not aware that anyone was in the way of being encouraged.”

  “Oh?” Mrs. Conagher shrugged. “My mistake. It is common knowledge that Lady Bishop would like to see her libertine brother respectably riveted, preferably to a female of some means. Her ladyship was just confiding to me that she rather favors Miss Mays.”

  Lucinda took a moment to digest the several implications. She shook her head, puzzled. “But why should she settle on Agnes? My sister-in-law has not a feather to fly with.”

  “But you do, my dear. You have an open fondness for Miss Mays, readily apparent to everyone. It is expected that you would come down handsomely on Miss Mays’s behalf should she contract a parti.” Mrs. Conagher regarded Lady Mays with a worldly smile. “St. Ives Bradford has an unsavory reputation. Lady Bishop is determined to see him settled so that his little peccadilloes will be whitewashed. Her ladyship sees Miss Mays as a very possible candidate. I shall leave you to decide how best to han
dle your business.”

  “I appreciate the information, Mrs. Conagher,” said Lucinda quietly. The lady nodded and withdrew. Lucinda looked about the ballroom for her sister-in-law. The round dance that had been promised to Mr. Bradford was just forming up, but Lucinda did not see her sister-in-law on the floor.

  Miss Blythe came up. “My dear, I just saw Mr. Bradford and Agnes leave the ballroom. Had you given them permission to walk in the gardens?”

  “No, I did not. Tibby, I have just learned the most disquieting thing about Mr. Bradford’s character.” Lucinda spoke quickly as she watched a haughty gentleman approach her. “Here is Lord Sarsall come to claim his dance. I cannot get away. Tibby, will you please go after Agnes?”

  “Of course!” Miss Blythe sped quickly toward the door giving onto the gardens.

  Lucinda bestowed her hand on Lord Sarsall, who had at last reached her. Smiling at his lordship, Lucinda allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. She wished very much that she could accompany Miss Blythe instead. But she had the greatest faith in her former governess. Miss Blythe would do all that was necessary.

  Not many minutes later, Lucinda was relieved to see Miss Blythe and Miss Mays return to the ballroom. She finished the round dance with every appearance of enjoyment and exchanged pleasantries with Lord Sarsall as he returned her to her chair. His lordship bowed to Miss Blythe and Miss Mays before he retreated. Lucinda at once turned to her companions. “Well?”

  “Mr. Bradford apparently enjoys flirting,” said Miss Blythe quietly. She was holding Miss Mays’s hand, and she squeezed the younger woman’s fingers. “I am very proud of Agnes. She knew that she should not go out with Mr. Bradford, and she delayed their progress long enough for me to arrive on the scene.”

  “I tripped on my hem and tore it. Mr. Bradford was not pleased, but there was nothing that he could do but allow me to pin it up,” said Miss Mays. She looked anxiously at Lucinda. “I did not wish to go with him, but he was so very insistent. He ... he said that the moonlight was very pretty in the gardens, and he had such a hold on my arm! And he looked at me in such a way. I do not like him in the least.”

  “Nor do I, Agnes. Will either of you find it disagreeable of me to wish to return home early?” asked Lucinda.

  “Oh, no!” said Miss Mays hopefully.

  Miss Blythe chuckled. “I believe we have all had our fill of Lady Bishop’s hospitality this evening.”

  “Or any other evening, I suspect,” said Lucinda, rising. She led the way over to their hostess and made their excuses.

  Lady Bishop was rather miffed that the ladies of Mays House were leaving, but she had no choice but to accept their excuses. “I shall wait upon you in the not too distant future, Lady Mays,” she said. “And certainly there will be other evenings, as well.”

  Lucinda expressed her pleasure, mentally making a note that she and her companions would place any invitation from Lady Bishop at the bottom of the stack.

  The following Wednesday evening, Lucinda and Miss Blythe accompanied Miss Mays to Almack’s. Miss Mays was agog with nervous pleasure. She knew very well that entering the portals of the august club was restricted to those who enjoyed the sponsorship of one of the patronesses. She had always dreamed of making her bows at Almack’s, and so she felt far less trepidation than she did over most of their other outings.

  The evening was a resounding success. Miss Mays came back to Mays House in a happy daze. Lucinda told Miss Blythe that it was just as Lady Sefton had said it would be. The sedate pace of Almack’s had been just right for Miss Mays.

  “Perhaps now Agnes will begin to gain a bit more confidence,” said Lucinda.

  Miss Blythe nodded, though her expression was thoughtful. “I do hope so.”

  Miss Mays did not really enjoy the many gatherings and entertainments. She was too timid to ever like large crowds. She found herself yearning for the rare times when she and Miss Blythe walked sedately in the park. It was so very nice to be out of doors and away from all that frightened and confused her.

  However, Miss Mays knew that she should not repine. Lady Mays was kindness itself, and her ladyship had provided all that Miss Mays could ever ask or require. It was little enough that Lady Mays expected of her in return, after all. She had only to smile and bestow her hand and enjoy herself. Miss Mays wondered why she felt so low.

  Scarce was the evening that found the ladies of Mays House sitting at home. Of late they had been able to put off their heavy cloaks and drape shawls over their shoulders when they stepped out. The chill of winter had slowly given way to the soft air of spring, just as Mr. Weatherby had predicted that it would.

  Lucinda wondered from time to time why she did not see that gentleman as often as previously. It was as though he had decided to avoid her. She mentioned something of the sort to Miss Blythe. “It is strange that Mr. Weatherby has not called on us lately, don’t you think? I quite thought that I could count on him as one of my faithful admirers!”

  “Is it strange, my dear? He is somewhat older, after all. I do not think that a gentleman of such worldly experience can be held long by a lady as youthful as yourself,” said Miss Blythe, rather dauntingly.

  Lucinda was almost vexed with her. “Oh, was Mr. Weatherby never on your list, Tibby? I quite thought he must meet some of your requirements.”

  “Not in the least. Mr. Weatherby is completely unsuitable,” said Miss Blythe. “However, I have noticed that Lord Pembroke is becoming rather pointed in his attentions. Wherever we go, his lordship at once seeks you out to solicit a dance or to take you into dinner. He was somewhat taken aback at the dinner party last night, I thought, when Lord Mays claimed the right of a cousin to escort you. Are you still on terms with the countess?”

  “In point of fact, I am,” said Lucinda, almost defensively. “Her ladyship is very kind whenever I chance to meet her.”

  Miss Blythe shook her head. “A pity,” she observed. “I should have liked to see you become a countess.”

  “You are nonsensical today, Tibby!” said Lucinda.

  The conversation had taken place in the drawing room. Miss Blythe was embroidering as usual, and Lucinda was attempting to knot a silver reticule according to the directions on the settee beside her. She was on the point of giving up and held up her efforts. “Only look at this wretched tangle! I have made a rare mess of it, have I not?”

  Miss Blythe glanced over and agreed to it. “Perhaps you should call in Agnes. She knotted a very pretty reticule just last week.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Lucinda despondently. “I so admired it that I thought that I would do one for myself.”

  Miss Blythe chuckled.

  A moment later, Lucinda’s face cleared as she laughed at herself. “Speaking of Agnes, where is she this afternoon? I have not seen her since we returned from Mrs. Conagher’s alfresco luncheon.”

  “I heard her in the music room earlier,” said Miss Blythe. She paused in her embroidery. “I am worried about her, Lucinda. She is not happy with us.”

  “Is she not? I quite thought that she was adjusting very well,” said Lucinda, surprised. “Why, she has not broken down into floods of tears since I put Ferdie out of the house. I understand that he has taken a repairing lease, by the way.”

  “Not with Sir Thomas and Lady Stassart, I hope?” asked Miss Blythe, instantly concerned.

  Lucinda shook her head. “I do not believe so, for Mama has not mentioned him in her letters to me. It is a relief to me, of course. I was so very harsh with him, Tibby! I gave him nothing but the fare for a hackney, which I borrowed from Church! Ferdie was highly insulted, I assure you. But I suppose that it gave him such a disgust of me and all the rest of the family that he has found someone else to batten off. No doubt it is someone with whom he can riffle the cards.”

  “Mr. Stassart does not seem to derive enjoyment from much of anything else,” agreed Miss Blythe.

  The butler came in to give Lady Mays a visitor’s card. Lucinda was surprised when she
read it, and she wished very much that she had given orders that she was not in. However, she was a fair person, and she resigned herself to the inevitable. In any event, the gentleman was a persistent individual, as she had good cause to know, and he would merely keep returning until he had achieved his purpose.

  “Pray show his lordship in. Church,” she said quietly.

  The butler bowed and exited.

  Miss Blythe was sensitive to the nuances of her former pupil’s voice. She looked speculatively over the rim of her spectacles. “What is it, Lucinda? You seem somewhat perturbed at the prospect of seeing this caller.”

  “It is Lord Potherby. His estate borders Carbarry, and he was a frequent visitor while I was there,” said Lucinda with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

  “Is Lord Potherby an impudent, importuning fellow? Shall I send him to the rightabout?” asked Miss Blythe, at once assuming the worst.

  Lucinda laughed, shaking her head at the very thought of Lord Potherby behaving with anything but the most correct of manners. “Oh, no, his lordship is not that sort at all. Rather, he has been a most persistent and unencouraged admirer.”

  She hesitated, wondering if it was wise to put Miss Blythe into the whole picture. There was always the possibility that her matchmaking companion would see her parents’ approval of Lord Potherby as license to encourage the gentleman in his suit.

  Lucinda shrugged, for in the end it would scarcely matter. She would not be swayed any more by Miss Blythe than she had been by her parents. Never again would she enter a relationship that was not entirely of her own will. “Lord Potherby enjoys my parents’ favor. They have a strong fondness for his lordship.”

  “Indeed!” said Miss Blythe, her interest now thoroughly aroused.

  Lord Potherby was ushered into the drawing room. As he greeted Lucinda, Miss Blythe studied him curiously. Lord Potherby appeared to be about thirty years of age. He was immaculately attired in riding coat, breeches, and topboots, so obviously he had ridden to Mays House. He was of middle height, well built but tending to a slight thickening round the middle. His most prominent feature was a leonine head of thick auburn hair. Miss Blythe thought that he had the look of a prosperous squire.