“I’m not sure of my aunt’s plans,” Lucy admitted. “But I hope to.”
“Do try to come,” Lady Sarah said as the carriage appeared. Lord Dorchester settled Lucy and the maid, whose name was Annie, into it, leaped aboard and took up the reins.
The matched pair of grays moved in unison over the cobbles as they continued down to Hyde Park Corner through the leafy Mayfair streets, past carriages and pedestrians in fashionable attire.
The traffic grew heavier, and they came to a stop as carriages, coaches and wagons tried to make their way through the narrow streets, the pavements crowded with pedestrians some of whom bravely attempted to cross the road.
As the carriage inched forward, they were held up again by a crossing sweeper.
Lord Dorchester turned to her, his blue gaze sweeping over her, the reins held lightly in his large, capable hands. “No discernable effects from your fall?”
She brushed her habit skirts. “Only a small grass stain and wounded pride.”
He laughed, then met another snarl in the traffic ahead as they entered St. James’s Park caught his attention. “Nonsense. You played very well,” he said when he turned back to her.
The difference between Aunt Mary’s townhouse and the earl’s mansion was considerable. Lucy must not forget that he came from a different world. Lucy glanced at his noble profile as he guided the horses around a sedan chair. She still couldn’t fathom why they had included her in their circle of friends, but she feared both Lady Sarah and her mother believed she was an heiress. There seemed no other reason. The truth of her simple upbringing in a small house with only two servants would surely shock them.
“Do you know of a Mr. Rattray?” Lucy hoped to learn more while in his company. She might not get the chance again.
He turned to look at her, his dark eyebrows raised. “I do, but not well. Why do you ask?”
“I think he plans to marry my aunt. I must confess I don’t like him, although I cannot say why.”
“There’s not much known about him, as he hails from Scotland,” he said. “Would you like me to find out more about him?”
She smiled, feeling foolish. “No, thank you. I am probably being unfair to him. And I could not interfere. My aunt seems lonely. I want her to be happy.”
He pulled up outside her aunt’s townhouse, tied off the reins and sat for a moment, looking at her. “You’re a sympathetic soul, Miss Kershaw.”
She flushed under his scrutiny. “Actually, my father says I’m too outspoken.”
The warm expression in his eyes couldn’t possibly have been desire.
His gaze drifted to her mouth and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her, her pulse thudding. Surely, he wouldn’t kiss her with the maid looking on. While she wanted him to with all her heart, she knew it was wrong. He was betrothed. But the impulse was so strong, she feared if he did, she would not push him away.
She held herself still as he trailed a finger along her jaw, then with an intake of breath, turned away and the moment passed.
He jumped from the phaeton and came around to her. Reaching up, he lifted her down. For a moment, she stopped breathing as her breasts brushed against the hard wall of his chest. A hot tingle shot through her nipples. He placed her on her feet and stepped away. Very much aware of him, Lucy couldn’t look up, fearing what she would see in his eyes would echo her feelings. He belonged to another and there was the scandal hanging over her head. If anything happened between them, she could only hurt him as well as herself.
She sensed the strength in him, when he clasped her hand to help her negotiate the step and walked with her to the door.
He rapped the door knocker, then stood back from her and cleared his throat. “I must apologize to your aunt for keeping you so long.”
“No, please don’t bother,” she said, her voice sounding strained. Aunt Mary would read too much into it. It would be hard enough for her to make light of her friendship with Lady Sarah, as it was. If her aunt suspected an attraction existed between Lord Dorchester and herself, the fuss it would cause! Lucy would be forced to return to Bath.
She watched the play of emotions on his face, mirroring hers, then he turned swiftly away. “Good bye, Miss Kershaw.”
“Good bye. And thank you,” she called after him. Her heart still beating too fast, she remained to admire his lean, athletic body as he jumped effortlessly back into the phaeton. He turned his magnificent horses in a neat half circle and continued back along the road. Lucy felt a little shaky. As if something monumental had happened. If he had kissed her, it could mean only one thing. He wanted her for his mistress. She wasn’t sure how she would have responded. Being with him made her feel safe, despite her common sense telling her there was no such thing as safety and certainly not with a man about to marry someone else. She considered being a mistress beneath her and hoped he would never ask her. It would ruin her good opinion of him.
As she entered the house, the clasp of his long-fingered hand lingered, warm and strong. Would she see him again? It had been wonderful to spend those few hours with him and Lady Sarah. But this only made it harder to forget him when faced with the harsh reality of her past, which must soon catch up with her.
In low spirits, Lucy entered the drawing room, and saw her cousin Anabel seated on the sofa with a box of chocolates in her lap. A pretty, plump young woman with a round face, light-brown hair, and blue eyes, her gaze sharp as she greeted Lucy.
Lucy sat beside her. “How nice to see you at last, Anabel. Where is Aunt Mary?”
“Mr. Rattray has driven her to the park,” Anabel said, taking in Lucy’s clothes. “You are wearing my old habit. The material is of excellent quality, but the military style will go out of fashion now the war had ended.”
“I am grateful for it, Anabel. Thank you.”
