Jack strode back to the table and grabbed his glass so forcefully a little spilt. He drank a mouthful, smiling—he was sure he was smiling. Some manner of expression was straining his face at least. “Happy! Why, yes, I am very happy!”
“Iamglad. And we have you to thank! Because as I was just saying, when Lucy told me of the rumour that’s been spread about her fortune and your very just concerns for her wellbeing, it became obvious to me what must be done. That urge to protect her acted upon my already warm sentiments towards her and…well, as you see, it has produced this happy event!”
“I saidIwould marry her. Did she not happen to mentionthat?”
“She did. Of course she did. Lucy keeps no secrets from me now. But as she explained, she could only ever consent to an engagement with a man whoreallywanted to marry her.”
Jack looked at him for a moment. He drank off the rest of his wine and very carefully set the glass down. He very carefully refilled it.
“I see.”
“So it’s all worked out perfectly. I’ll marry her for real, and in doing so, give her all the protection of my name, my station, and my person. We’ll get along splendidly, I’m sure. You yourself once told me what an excellent wife she’d make, and I quite agree. And, in return, it means I’m also safe from all those fortune hunters you’ve so assiduously guarded me from.” He gave Jack a beatific smile. “Our union sets you free, Jack! You needn’t worry about either of us anymore. You can continue your life of pleasure with no dreary responsibility to burden you. Though, of course, we hope you won’t abandon us entirely. It’d be pleasant to have you visit us every now and again. When we are happily settled. In the country. With our numerous children.”
Jack moved back to the fireplace. His wine was in his hand, but he set the glass down on the mantelpiece untouched. He didn’t want it anymore.
“I see,” he said again, more quietly this time. “And when is this happy event to take place?”
“Not straightaway. In fact, we’re keeping the engagement secret for a while. Lucy wishes to write to her aunt first, and I’ll inform my parents. We don’t need their blessing, but we’d both prefer to have it before we make a public announcement. I came straight from Miss Sedgewick’s house to tell you—and only you.”
“She knows, I suppose? Caroline?”
“Yes. And she couldn’t have been more happy! I dare say the two of you will soon be following Lucy and I into our currentstate of bliss, eh, Jack?” He joined Jack by the fire and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “When you find the right woman, you just know, don’t you? It’s entirely unmissable.”
Seventeen
Lucy was ready before Miss Sedgewick the next morning and went into the parlour to wait. She stood by the window, its old, warped frame painted the green of dried, dusty sage, and watched the persons and carriages pass, smoothing the soft kid of her new gloves over her fingers. The redness and pain had long gone, and her hands ached instead for her brush but there’d hardly been time to properly set up her studio. She’d promised herself to start that afternoon.
At least today should salve the art-hungry keenings of her heart. They were to visit Somerset House, and not just with Mr Warde and his friend Lord Kiethly, both of whom had insisted the visit should happen without delay, and both of whom Lucy had little inclination to know better, but with Mr Thornton and some of Miss Sedgewick’s other artist friends too.
Lucy knew Miss Sedgewick had invited them on her account, but her gratitude had an edge of guilt. She needed to speak to Mr Thornton alone. She needed to ask him…ask him… Her chest pinched with nerves. Would she even have the courage to askhim about his studio sessions if the opportunity arose? She was almost frightened that shewould, that she really would go to his studio and take a step that couldn’t be undone. One that would tarnish her reputation forever.
But the alternative… She frowned out at a passing farmer’s wagon with bleating, nervous sheep crowded behind the tumbril bars. The alternative was to be safe and obedient. And to live forever within a very small room. And her whole life so far had been lived in a very small way. The thought of her future being no bigger choked her. But to take that step…
“To become known as an eccentric, when you’ve little enough to recommend yourself to any man seeking a wife…”
Well! Jack could keep his warnings and dire prophecies. She’d never sought a husband, real or otherwise, had always known she was alone in this world without true protectors. Her father heedless and distant, her aunt selfish and cold, the Ortons feckless and self-indulgent, forgetting she existed the moment she was out of sight and then…then…being sochokingandclumsyandblind—
“This is exactly the sort of impertinent nonsense I want to save you from.”
Hah, that was the pot calling the kettle, Jack! He was nothingbutnonsense, but at least she had a shield now, in the form of Mr Simmons’s slight figure and embarrassed grace. Jack had no right to interfere with someone else’s fiancée, boss them around, list all their shortcomings, all the reasons she’d never really be anyone’s wife…
She twisted the finger of her glove, looking down aghast as the seam gave way under her wretched fretting. Another pair ruined!
Guilt. Fear. They were sticky and hot on her shoulders, crawling down her spine. Today’s visit to the Royal Academy exhibition at Somerset House should have filled her with purejoy, but she could only think of her conversation to come with Mr Thornton, her stomach knotting, but even that was better than thinking of theotherthing…
A note had arrived late last night from Mr Simmons to Miss Sedgewick. From its tone, Lucy suspected Mr Simmons hadn’t meant for her to see it, but Miss Sedgewick, having read it, paused before giving a small shrug and handing it silently to Lucy.
It is done,George had written.At first I feared he meant some violence against my person, and then I feared the violence would be against himself. But it is done, God save us. He rallied sufficiently to drink several toasts to our good health and happiness and then retired early to bed. What mischief or misery we have unleashed, I dread to think.
Jack gone to bed early? Jack rattled enough to startle his friend? Miss Sedgewick had seemed grimly pleased by the note, folding it with calm precision when Lucy, pale, handed it back to her. She’d then consigned it to the fire.
Lucy wished its words could have been as easily removed from her heart, but they’d repeated there all night. She didn’t sleep, only imagined the scene Mr Simmons had sketched, inventing the expressions on Jack’s face, the words the two men said, and wishing none of it had happened at all.
So it was little surprise that her heartbeat stuttered like a candle in a storm when a footstep sounded at the door and Miss Sedgewick’s servant announced, “Lord Orton, ma’am.”
Lucy whirled to the door just as Jack’s tall, dark figure strode through it. He gave her a hard, glittering smile as he tugged his gloves off, shoving them into the pocket of his greatcoat—he hadn’t taken it off? He didn’t mean to stay? His hat was in his other hand.
“Well, Lucy.” He tossed the hat down onto an armchair. She stared at it. For all her thoughts of having a shield, she felt frighteningly exposed. “You’ve been busy, I hear.”
