Every ball saw her on the dancefloor the entire evening. Their drawing rooms were always full on their at-home days. The knocker was never silent. She was escorted and flattered and fawned upon.
Why was she not in alt?
Why did it feel like none of the gentlemen attempting to pay her court were at all acceptable?
There were titled gentlemen seeking her hand – ones higher in precedence than that of her brother’s, as she had claimed to require. There were fashionable gentlemen seeking her hand. And she was reasonably sure they weren’t all after her dowry. Some of course were more interested in its size than anything personal about her. But she was nearly completely sure that most, or at least some of the gentlemen, were genuinely tolerant of her as a person. Especially Lord Wiltshire. His pursuit of her was starting to seem serious and genuine. He was nearly perfect. She ought to be delighted. Shewasdelighted, she insisted to herself.
She didn’t want a love match. She had iterated that from the beginning.
But whatdidshe want? Why wasn’t she delighted with her array of choices? She ought to just sit down with a paper and quill and write out the best and worst things about each possibility and make her selection. That would be reasonable and even helpful. Maybe that would set her mind at ease.
Why wasn’t Roderick paying her court?
Lucy tried to ignore the niggling thought. She certainly didn’t need any more suitors. Surely one could be convinced she had enough to choose from.
But why?
It was evident from his behaviour that evening that he was in search of a well-heeled woman to wed. He had spent more than just a greeting with several women who could be considered suitable wives for a fellow in his situation. She had watched him from the corner of her eye all evening. It had felt almost instinctive. She hadn’t been able to help it even though she hadn’t wanted to do it.
Every time he was longer than a minute with any one female it had taken every effort not to rush to his side and explain to him just why this particular lady was unsuitable.
Lady Evangeline had been the most difficult. There was really no reason why she could be deemed unsuitable. In fact, if Lucy were to consider who she would recommend to Roderick if he had ever thought to ask, the pleasant Lady Evangeline would probably be at the top of her list.
And still Lucy wanted to think of a reason why they wouldn’t suit.
She was truly a ninnyhammer. It wouldn’t matter even if he did try to court her. She couldn’t accept him. There would be no way for her to avoid all the wonderful information and knowledge that would surround Roderick and his friends. She would never be able to carry on a façade of fashionableennuiin the face of so much learning.
It wasn’t to be borne.
She needed to select a suitor and marry him. The Earl of Wiltshire might do. Wouldn’t he? He was pleasant enough. She tolerated his company well. But she wasn’t sure she could look forward to his company for the rest of her days. Not that she could think of anyone she truly preferred. She refused to think of Roderick in that context.
These thoughts were chasing each other around in circles in her mind as her maid helped her get ready for bed and settled her in for the night. They continued to swirl even as she pulled the covers around her and rested her exhausted head on the pillows.
She was determined to find the solution to her dilemma. But it might have to wait until morning.
The restless night led to a later than usual morning, so Lucy took her breakfast on a tray in her room as she went through her preparations for her daytime activities.
A scratch at the door indicated a visitor.
“Come in,” she called around a bite of toast, grinning when Isabelle peeked her head around the door.
“Oh good, you’re up. I wondered what had become of you when you didn’t show up at the breakfast table.”
Lucy’s grin turned sheepish. “I was stuck to my sheets this morning, I’m afraid. I didn’t sleep as well as I’d thought I would.”
“Not enough dancing,” Belle said with a smile. “You always sleep like a toddler when you’ve danced the night away.”
“That must be it,” Lucy agreed with a smile despite knowing that wasn’t the reason for her difficulties. She turned the topic with another quick smile. “Were you looking for me for any reason in particular or just sisterly concern?”
Isabelle always loved it when Lucy referred to them as sisters. It was a good way to keep her from noticing she hadn’t fully agreed. And it was also true. Lucy had loved her brother’s wife from the moment they’d met, when they had both, separately but at the same time, turned up unannounced on the doorstep of Viscount Simmons’ hunting lodge. It had never been confirmed but it had seemed as though Belle’s parents had contrived to have their carriage’s wheel break at the most convenient of places. How one could arrange for such a thing was beyond Lucy’s ken but her brother didn’t believe in such convenient coincidences.
Of course, he was delighted with the eventual outcome as he was very much in love with his beautiful wife and the life they had cobbled together with their growing nursery of toddlers and infants along with his two much younger siblings. Lucy adored her small nieces and nephews but was quite convinced that her sister-in-law was putting herself at risk by producing four children so close in age to one another. She didn’t, of course, understand all the biology of the matter, but surely growing a human inside oneself must take a great deal of substance. Shouldn’t there be a resting period in between? One that lasted years rather than the weeks or months Belle seemed to take. It was just one of the reasons Lucy considered a love match to be far too messy for her tastes.
“Not really a particular reason other than we are to be at home to morning callers this afternoon, and I hadn’t yet seen you today.” Belle answered with slight hesitance in her voice, as though she were dancing around a topic.
Lucy put down the cup of chocolate she had been sipping and narrowed her eyes at the viscountess. “What are you trying to say without saying it?”
Isabelle had always had trouble getting to the point if she knew her topic might not be well received. It was usually a source of amusement to Lucy. Not so much when it was directed around her.
