“Travel memoirs,” she said shortly, immediately turning back to Fitz with a determined smile.“Come sit by me, Fitz, and tell me how Caroline has been.”
“Travel memoirs,” Fitz repeated, looking confused.Or perhaps that was merely his face.“I thought you were writing a novel.I’m sure Caroline mentioned taking the newspapers so she could keep up with?—”
“Do you two know each other?”Ashbourn interrupted sternly, looking between Lucy and Fitz.No matter what the man said, it sounded like an interrogation.
Fitz jumped, looking alarmed, but Lucy seemed relieved at the change of topic.
“We met in Paris, just before they were to set sail for the other side of the world,” Lucy explained swiftly.“I heard Caroline—Lady Fitzwilliam—give a fascinating lecture on the mating habits of birds and accosted her afterward to shower her with praise.We became fast friends.Tell me everything, Fitz, I had no idea you both were in Town!”
She was ignoring Thorne, something he ordinarily wouldn’t tolerate.But for once, he found he didn’t mind.His brain was too busy sifting through what Fitz had inadvertently revealed.
Lucy wasn’t writing a travel memoir.She was writing a novel.Anonymously, or he would’ve known about it already, and serialized, if it was appearing in the papers.
And what had her main subject of interest been for as long as Thorne had known her?
The Gentle Rogue.
It was a leap of intuition, but Thorne had always trusted his gut.Lucy Lively was the author ofThe Midnight Rider.He’d be willing to bet on it.
Thorne almost laughed aloud as he recalled their conversation on the Maidenhead Bridge where he’d called it drivel.
It occurred to him, as he dismounted from his patient gelding, that the reason he’d chosen Maidenhead Bridge that night was that he’d read the latest chapter ofThe Midnight Riderthat morning, in which the fictional highwayman who was so obviously based upon The Gentle Rogue had robbed someone on the Maidenhead Bridge.
Lacking a more clear-cut plan, he’d made his way to Maidenhead.And that was where Lucy had found him.
He’d always wondered how she happened to be able to find The Gentle Rogue when the authorities had never had the slightest luck.And now, suddenly, Thorne was certain he knew.
She planted ideas for places he should go in the papers, knowing he would read them.And, vain bastard that he was, he had avidly devoured his own press to the point of turning up at, say, Maidenhead Bridge the night after Lady Lucy Lively wrote a scene featuring it in herMidnight Ridernovel.
Lucy had played him from the first.And all he could feel about it was stunned and…appreciative.He couldn’t remember the last time someone had gained the upper hand over him like this.
He had to have her.
As Thorne looped Samson’s reins over a nearby tree branch, he decided today’s chance meeting might in fact provefortuitous.If Thorne wanted to trick Lucy into believing there was more to him than met the eye, there could be no better way than letting her observe him with her family and friends.
Giving the gelding an affectionate stroke and leaving him to happily crop grass, Thorne sauntered closer to the picnic blanket.
Lucy was still doing a marvelous impression of someone who had forgotten Thorne existed, but he saw her sit up a little straighter as he approached.She clearly assumed he’d settle at her other side and attempt to divert her attention from Fitz’s happy, if confusing, account of the odd animals they’d encountered in New Zealand.
So instead, with a regretful sigh and a silent apology to his valet for everything that was about to befall his snowy white cravat and silk-embroidered waistcoat, Thorne sat down beside little Lady Katherine.
ChapterSeven
Lucy couldn’t concentrate on Fitz’s amusing story about discovering a spider the size of his palm hiding in one of his boots—all she could see, hear, or think about was Thornecliff, sitting with Kitty and treating the little girl as though she was the most important, interesting person he’d ever encountered.
Kitty had been shy at first, but she’d overcome it quickly when Thornecliff smiled at her and gravely complimented her taste in cakes.Kitty was holding a sultana-studded tea cake she’d scavenged from the hamper, and she had immediately held out the half-eaten treat to share.
To Lucy’s everlasting shock, instead of recoiling in disgust, Thornecliff had thanked her and broken off a small piece of cake, which he’d then eaten.From there, Kitty had evidently decided they would be the best of friends, or perhaps soulmates.
At one point, she had put her arms out to him, confidently expecting to be lifted into his lap, and he had done it!Now he sat listening intently to Kitty prattle, occasionally exchanging amused comments with Bess and Nathaniel, who looked on indulgently.As though they were perfectly comfortable with the most notorious rake in all of England dandling their daughter upon his knee.As though they weren’t even surprised at his wish to do so!
He was truly a complicated man, with more facets to him than a gemstone.He seemed quite deliberate about how and to whom he presented his disparate aspects.It frustrated her to no end to realize that she was no closer to understanding him than when they first met.
“Well, that’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” Fitz commented, evidently as distracted by Thorne’s performance as Lucy.
“What is he playing at?”Lucy demanded in an undertone, relieved to have someone to discuss this with who seemed as perplexed as she.
“I can’t be certain.”Fitz squinted.“But it looks like pat-a-cake?”
