Damn,damnthe man and his silk-thick voice and his intoxicating brandy eyes.
“He called you interesting.” Aunt Pevensey moved a note to peer at the one below. “He called youfascinating! Good heavens, Lucasta, what did you say to him?”
Lucasta swallowed her toast like a burning sword. “Nothing of note, I vow.”
Cici handed over the gossip columns she had been devouring while her father hid behind the corn prices and news. Her bright blue eyes danced with merriment.
“You did something to captivate him and everyone, cousin. Only look what else they are saying!”
Lucasta scanned the morning papers, her heart quailing with each word. Smart Jeremy had danced with and commended a woman—and not just any woman. It defied imagination to know what had caught his eye, for Miss L— L—, daughter of a vicar of unknown provenance and but the smallest distinction, had nodiscernable assets. She did not possess the curly hair, blue eyes, and luminescent skin that heralded beauty. She was not rich. She did not dance divinely, she did not dress in the first stare of fashion, and there had not been a single expression of interest in her by any gentlemen thus far.
Yet after one dance, something had led Lord Rudyard, whom everyone agreed had the most impeccable taste and the most beautiful manners, to pronounce Miss L— enchanting. The society columns had pounced on this latest declaration from the town’s leading maker of fashion, and the cartoonists would not be far behind with their lampoons.
The bite of toast sat heavy in Lucasta’s stomach. He was mocking her, knowing the town gossips would hoist her on their own petard. As usual, he had pulled his insult off beautifully.
Better all around if she had remained invisible.
A knock sounded on the front door, and a few moments later the butler proceeded into the small dining room to deliver another set of notes to his mistress. Aunt reread the latest missive, her eyes round as spoons.
“And here is a note from Clara Bellwether saying how delighted she is that her drawing room should be the scene of this riveting interchange. “For I flatter myself,” Aunt read, “that I meant to introduce them, since as soon as you came through, I saw that your Lucasta has quite a queenly air. At the time I could not conscience it in a vicar’s daughter, but I thought to myself, I must introduce this one to Rudyard—I should think he might take an interest. And so he did.”
Scowling, Lady Pevensey laid the note aside and took up another. “And it seems Lady Cranbury credits herself for having encouraged you, Lucasta, to make the best account of yourself. ‘For I said to her, indeed I did, that if she could only hope to be taken in by Miss Pevensey’s eventual husband, then she should hope it were someone like Rudyard, with a secure income andstatus. Indeed, she must have taken my words to heart. I do wonder what she did to attract his notice, don’t you?’”
Lady Pevensey regarded her stepdaughter. “Rudyard did not askyouto dance, Cecilia? You could not have turned him down.”
“I did not,belle-mére.” Cici smiled innocently. “Lucasta was the only young lady he asked to stand up with him.”
Her aunt’s basilisk stare swung to Lucasta. “He inquired about Cecilia, of course.”
“Er. After a fashion.” Lucasta pulled another piece of toast from the rack.
“And you encouraged him, of course.”
Lucasta swallowed a dry bite. “More or less.” Rather less than more, one might say.
Her ladyship nodded. “I hope I have finally impressed upon you what you owe to this family, Lucasta. You are a wayward creature, though if you would but exert yourself the least bit, you could be passably charming. Do you suppose he will offer soon, Cecilia, and we might plan a summer wedding?”
Cici pursed her lips daintily around the rim of her cup. “But he admires Lucasta,belle-mére.”
“Oh, the very idea,” her ladyship said. “Now, let me see. The rout at Skylar House is tonight, and I am sure Rudyard shall be attending. I wonder if you should wear white again, since he favors you in it?”
She frowned at the note in her hand. “Oh. This one is for you, Lucasta.”
Lucasta read the elegant missive, brief but charming. She blinked. “The Duchess of Hunsdon informs me she has a selection of Greek histories in her antiquarian bookshop, and she invites me and my friends to call on her.”
Aunt Pevensey put down her egg spoon. “Her Grace the Duchess of Hunsdon?”
“Don’t forget this one.” Cici retrieved another folded note from the pile.
Lucasta sucked in a breath. “The Countess of Bessington hopes I and my friends will attend an afternoon salon at her home. A Miss Williams will be speaking on the topic of feminine sensibility.”
“The Countess of Bessington sent you an invitation?” Her aunt picked through the remaining stock of folded foolscap. “Why should she take any note ofyou?”
Lucasta gathered her shaking courage in both hands. “As it happens, Lady Cranbury approached me about a musical evening?—”
“No,” her aunt said flatly.
“It would only be a small event, she said, for the entertainment of her nephew?—”
