All of them got up at the same time. Lucy took a step forward and somehow found herself surrounded by two pairs of warm arms.
“Daughter. We have found you.”
Chapter 24
A year later. Sullivan Hall, Sussex
Sullivan Hall was lovely during the summer. Lucy walked through the rose garden, which was not as big as the one at Ashmore Hall. The roses reminded her of Henry.
A year had passed since she’d last seen him. He must be married by now. Maybe he even had a child.
Lucy plucked the dead petal off a rose and let it float to the ground.
She enjoyed living with her parents, Lord and Lady Sullivan, who spoiled her at every turn. It was a dream come true. She even had a brother, Charlie, three years younger than her, who liked to tease her playfully.
Sometimes, Lucy woke up in the night, thinking it was all a dream, that she was still lying in the wagon's corner as it rumbled along the dusty country roads. Or sometimes she awoke, full of panic that she was missing her performance on stage.
She didn’t miss the theatre.
She didn’t even miss the Seminary, even though she’d enjoyed her short teaching stint there. Sometimes she thought of continuing in that profession, even though it was no longer required of her, nor even proper of her, to work. She would never have to earn her livelihood again. Her parents wanted a season for her. She’d declined, and they understood. Even if she never married, she’d be well off.
She thought of travelling. Lucy plucked another leaf off the rose. She had loads of money, now. She could travel the world three times over, if she wanted. Yes. Maybe she should do that. Leave England. Go to India, Egypt, the West Indies. Anywhere but here.
Guilt rushed through her. Was she entirely maggot-headed? Her entire life she’d yearned for a family, for a home. Now she finally had it, and she wanted to leave? Someone needed to open her head and check what was wrong with her brains.
Though she suspected it was not her head, but her heart that ailed, rather badly.
“Cathy, dear.” Her mother joined her and drew her arm through hers. She called her Cathy and Lucy was fine with that. New life—new name. Let the old Lucy Bell die, just as Lucibelle Bellini had died. Now she was The Honourable Catherine Elizabeth Edgewood, daughter of Viscount and Viscountess Sullivan.
“Come, let’s sit here.” She pulled Lucy on the stone bench next to the yellow rosebush. “I know we agreed to postpone your season for a while, so I do not want to press you on this matter. We have, however, received an invitation that is not judicious to decline. One does not rebuff invitations from certain people.”
“Did the king send you a personal invitation?” Lucy’s lips formed the ghost of a smile.
“No. But the Duke of Ashmore did. For his annual house party.”
“No.” Lucy’s lips lost all colour. She stood up. “If you don’t mind, Mother, I’d rather not go there.” Over her dead body. Even her corpse would resist if it ever came to that.
“I know, child, last summer you spent some time there, and you didn’t part well with his sister.” That was the story she’d told them. They didn’t know half of it. “However, we cannot turn down an invitation from one of the most powerful men in the country. Your father has some political issues to discuss with him. This would be an excellent occasion for him to do so. And for you, it would be an opportunity to make up with your friend.” She searched Lucy’s face, which had shut down completely. “You and Lady Arabella were rather close once, Miss Hilversham told us.”
“Please believe me, the rift is entirely insurmountable.” Lucy clutched at the side of her skirt. Her mother didn’t know the entire story. She couldn’t tell her, either. She felt a deep pain in her heart every time she thought of her time at Ashmore Hall.
Lucy could be obnoxiously hard-headed, but she’d inherited that from her mother, who was even more hard-headed than Lucy.
Lady Sullivan set her lips firmly. “It would please us both, myself and your father, not to mention your brother, Charlie, to accept the invitation and go to Ashmore Hall. We won’t leave you behind. I’m afraid you really have no choice and you will have to, no matter how difficult, overcome your reluctance and join us with as much goodwill as you can muster. Come, child,” she softened, “you’ll see, it won’t be so bad.”
Lucy looked at the stubborn set of her mother’s chin and realised she’d finally found her match. Her stomach dropped all the way to the gravelled path.
She would see Henry again.
In married bliss to his wife Louisa. With maybe a child or two.
She’d rather be dead.
Lucy felt increasingly queasythe closer they approached Ashmore Hall. A minute ago, they’d passed the little brook where she’d fished out Bartimaeus. At least the puppy was something to look forward to.
None of them knew about Lucy’s new identity. What would they think? She’d left in disgrace as Lucibelle Bellini. She’d lied to them. Deceived them. Left a massive scandal in her wake. Now she was returning as The Honourable Catherine Edgewood. She expected the entire assembly from last year to be there. Lord and Lady Rawleigh, Lord Blackwood, the Stiltons. Lucy groaned. They would snub her and frown at her, and her entire family would be in disgrace.
The carriage turned into the magnificent alley that led straight up to the proud house. The path was lit with torches and all the windows seemed to be ablaze with light. Lucy’s wiped her cold and clammy hands on her pink carriage dress, wrinkling it. She felt like she’d be sick.
