“As I mentioned earlier, I met the Duke of Ramsbury when I was a boy. Imposing old gentleman with wild eyebrows. Very gruff, he was.”
“Sounds like the duke. Go on, then.”
“He came to visit my brother-in-law shortly after a similar visit from his son and granddaughter.”
Lucy swallowed a gasp. “Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes. The duke wished to know details of his son’s arguments against disinheritance. He also wished to determine where they had gone, but we did not know. He seemed a severe fellow, but I do recall apparent concern for his son, and even more for the granddaughter he had never met.”
She gripped the reins to hide the tremble of her hands. “Really? How interesting.” Her quivering voice betrayed her attempted show of calm.
“Yes. Quite interesting. However, the most compelling aspect of the story is my personal meeting with the granddaughter during her visit. An odd creature, to be certain.”
“Oh? How so?”
“The girl barged into my secret room and demanded that we read some frivolous fairy tale, and then she read it poorly at that. Very odd indeed.”
She failed to restrain her indignation before erupting. “She did not barge in! She was kind to you, not demanding! She readRobinson Crusoeas you most certainly know, and read it quite well, thank you!”
Lucy regretted the outburst even as the words tumbled forth, but she seemed powerless to stop them. Henry stared at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw.
“I considered that you were…but did not truly think the possibility was…” He stopped as if to gather his scattered logic. “You are supposed to be dead!”
She returned his stare, her mind in chaos, until his confusion forced her eyes away. “Clearly, I am not,” she whispered.
“But I remember the story well, as it involved someone near my age. The tragic accident. The daughter lost to the river…”
“And her body was never found, so everyone simply assumed her dead.”
Henry rubbed his forehead. “Why not, then, just tell the duchess you are her long-lost granddaughter?”
She shook her head adamantly and snorted disdain. “No, I cannot.”
“Why not?”
She stared ahead while grasping for an answer amid the complexity of her reasons. She settled for the one most primal. “I want nothing of the insidious cage of nobility. Steadman warned me repeatedly of its corrosive effects on basic human decency. Why would I trade bread for poison? And now that I have found liberty, why would I exchange it for shackles more confining than those I left behind?”
His eyes squinted further. “Shackles?”
“Do not judge me. You may possess all the privileges in the world but judging me is not one of them.”
He turned to watch the road. “It is not judgment I feel. I am merely perplexed by your odd reasoning.”
“There is that word again.Odd. You seem to enjoy describing me that way. Do you consider me odd?”
“Yes. Very.”
Her annoyance bubbled over. “At least I am true to my character. You, however, seem to lack any insight whatsoever into yours.”
His nostrils flared and his jaw flexed as he appeared to bite back a curse. “At least tell me what happened.”
“I owe you no explanation.”
“True. But might you enlighten my ignorance?”
Lucy balked. She had never told anyone exactly what had happened that day. Not even Steadman. Now, this arrogant man wanted the truth? Before she could deny his request, though, her heart flooded unexpectedly with the need to tell her story. For the first time. To anyone.
“I will tell you, but only for the sake of your benighted ignorance.”
