Lucy stepped backward as if slapped, while hurt colored her pretty face. The urge to hold and comfort her overtook him. When he stepped in her direction, though, she moved away before whirling to confront him.
“Is this what you prepared me for? To be fattened and sold like a brood sow to the highest bidder? Is that all I am to you?”
Henry stood silently. He could not argue her accusation, for it described succinctly the mission assigned to him by the duchess, albeit in rough terms. However, he was inclined to argue her final question. “No. You mean more to me than that.”
She crossed her arms. “What do I mean to you, then? What?”
His selfish nature wished to confide his raging attraction for her, and to confess his betrayal. A stream of explanation formed in his mind and nearly crossed his lips.
Nearly.
However, his thoughts again retreated to how his brother would describe his attachment to a woman raised by a thief.Just as I predicted, he would say.From criminal seed grows a criminal tree.Every taunt, every insult, every degradation of childhood flooded his memory and rendered him woefully silent. She glared at him before tears descended her cheeks.
“I thought so,” she said brokenly. Then quieter, “I thought so. But it matters not. I am who I am, Henry, and neither of us can fix that. Neither of us can change the past.”
She turned away without further comment and walked toward the footbridge, leaving him alone and consumed by questions and absolute shame.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As four days passed, Lucy withdrew from Henry hour by hour, turning her interest instead to the suitors. Now, the day he most dreaded had arrived. Lucy would choose a husband before the night was done to allow sufficient time for the reading of the banns. All his efforts, training, and tutoring had led her to this day. And he could not have been more miserable.
Owing to comfortable cloud cover, the house party had elected for an outing on the moderate but lush lawn behind Ardmoore. Manicured shrubbery, lacy trees, and bursts of flowers lined three sides. Henry found himself relegated to the margins while watching Lucy hold court with the suitors, all under Charlotte’s watchful eye. Not one to accept overshadowing, Isabella insinuated herself into the fray, dragging Miss Braye and Miss Wharton along for support. Even then, Henry chose to hover near enough to listen but far enough away to remain outside the conversation. The suitors peppered Lucy with questions, some more personal than others.
“What is your favorite dish? I prefer roast pheasant and cabbage myself.”
“Might you favor us with a poem in Italian?”
“What manner of man was your father?”
Most of these questions she answered as diligently as she could without betraying the more sordid details of her past. Some she brushed aside with a grace Henry did not recall noticing when he first met her. He nodded approval for her handling of the stressful interview, even though it crumbled his heart moment by moment. Isabella soon resumed her efforts to humiliate Lucy.
“Lady Margaret.” Isabella waited until she commanded all eyes. “I heard a most unbelievable rumor about you that I cannot imagine to be true.”
Henry tensed and watched Lucy do the same.
“Is that so?” Her response sounded calm, but he sensed the underlying anxiety. Isabella smiled, knowing she had touched upon a secret.
“A little bird told me…” She paused dramatically. “That you fence. That you handle a foil in the manner of some dastardly pirate. Imagine that!”
Henry craned his neck, wondering how Lucy would escape such a direct question.
“Imagination is unnecessary, for the rumor is true.”
While Henry smiled at her equally direct response, most jaws went slack with surprise. Not Isabella’s, though. He realized, then, that she had set a trap for Lucy and her prey had jumped directly into the snare.
“Good for you,” said Isabella. Her measured intonation hinted sarcasm. “I admire your admitting to playing with swords despite every man despising such a masculine pursuit in a wife.”
Lucy’s eyes went wide with surprise, and Isabella seemed to take pleasure in the expected reaction. However, a smile began to tug Henry’s lips. He had come to know Lucy’s many expressions well. Her response was an act. She was preparing to counterattack.
“Every man?” she said. “Is that true?”
Still unaware of impending insult, Isabella fell into Lucy’s superior snare. “Well, nearly every man, I suppose.”
“Once again, I must thank you for your generous guidance on such matters.” Lucy spoke with all the earnestness of a child hoping for more pudding. “As a show of my gratitude, I will be sure to limit my interests to those who are man enough to disarm me and leave the rest for your consideration.”
Most of the suitors smiled at the retort. Charlotte stifled a giggle while Miss Braye and Miss Wharton exchanged a mirthful glance. Realizing her mistake, Isabella rallied.
“Worry not over me, for I do not lack male attention. As your time in London was brief, you would not have known such information. Just as you would not have known the popular fashions of thehaute tonthese days. For that reason, I would not fret over your odd dress. You are not to blame for it.”
