“Why?”
“I wouldn’t know, Miss. He’s expecting you.” She looked at Lucy’s face. “May I suggest washing your face first?”
Should she pretend she’d been sleeping and had no idea what had happened? But no. That seemed cowardly. Lucy scrubbed the paint off her face and followed Mrs Bates down to the drawing room.
She arrived at the same time as the duke. Her mouth fell open at his dissheveled appearance.
His hair was rumpled, and his shirt hung out of his trousers as if he’d either gotten dressed quickly, or was interrupted in getting undressed.
“Miss Bell. A word with you,” Henry ground out. He held the door to the drawing room open. He didn’t even close the door when he exploded. “What in everything that’s good and holy were you thinking?”
Lucy looked sheepish. “I’m sorry. It was an old prank from our school days. I suppose it’s not what ladies do.” She was in her nightgown and her bare toes peeked out from under the hem. She felt at a disadvantage.
“What ladies do?” He looked at her as if she had three heads. “You scrambled around on top of Ashmore Hall! You could have fallen!”
“Oh no. I was not in any danger. The parapet up there would’ve prevented me from falling off.”
“The parapet hasn’t been maintained for years. You should’ve never been out there to begin with.”
“I couldn’t resist having some fun.” Lucy knew that sounded childish.
“Fun?” He raised his voice.
“Yes, fun. A word you, Your Grace, seem to be entirely unacquainted with.” She felt her hackles raise.
“You could’ve fallen and broken your neck! How,in any way, is that fun?” he roared.
“I wouldn’t have fallen,” she shouted back. “I told you it was entirely safe!”
“You’re irresponsible, rash and act without thinking of the consequences of your actions. You fall into ditches and insist upon filling my house with all sorts of animals. And now you climb around on my roof and put your life in danger - and you tell me it’s fun. It’s intolerable!”
“And you! What about you?” Lucy stomped with her naked foot on the carpet, which didn’t make any impression at all. “You’re a liar, impostor and an arrogant oaf! You pretend to be someone you are not, thinking you’re better than everyone else because you have oh so nobly sacrificed all your dreams and desires for that artificial role of duty and honour you insist on playing. Yet it bores you to tears. You bore yourself to tears! And you’re determined to despise everyone else and look down on them! At least most people here are honest with their stuffiness and artificiality.”
She stuck out a finger and wagged it under his nose. “You’re a hypocrite! So don’t go about despising others if they’re having a speck of fun in this dreary life.” She stomped her foot on the carpet again. “And, for heaven’s sake, stop pretending to be so insufferably bored with everything!”
A horrified gasp came from the door. When they turned around, they saw a group of shell-shocked ladies, clad in nightgowns and shawls, watching in open-mouthed astonishment as Lucy and Henry ripped into each other. They must have heard every word. Lady Louisa covered her mouth. Arabella’s eyes were saucers and her hands flew to her chest. The Stilton girls looked like they were about to faint.
“Interesting.” There was a gleam in the Dowager Duchess’ eyes. “If you two have finished slaughtering each other in public, may I suggest we proceed to having some tea? I believe we could all do with a midnight snack, now that we’ve discovered the ghost of Ashmore Hall is not a ghost at all.”
“Oh, dear.” Lucy looked around for a mouse hole.
A deep, red flushed crept up Henry’s throat. He lifted a hand and rubbed his neck. It was as if only now he’d realised his surroundings.
“I seem to have forgotten myself,” he said into the shocked silence. Turning to Lucy, he said,“Pray accept my apologies for having raised my voice, Miss Bell, even though the occasion warranted it. It was ungentlemanly of me.”
“See!” she hissed. “There you go again.” She whirled out of the room.
“What did I say now?” he addressed no one in particular, frustrated. For one moment it looked like he was about to rush after her. Then he remembered his audience.
“You never told me you two seem to know each other—from somewhere.” Arabella frowned.
“As I mentioned, this is entirely a mistake on my side. If you will excuse me.” He bowed stiffly to the ladies and fled.
“But, I don’t understand.” Louisa looked after his retreating figure. “What did she mean with Ashmore pretending to be someone he is not?”
“I’ve never seen him so angry before. In fact, I didn’t know the Duke of Ashmore was capable of getting angry at all,” mused Jane.
“If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. Come on, Jane, let’s return to bed.” Lady Bleckingham pulled her daughter away.
