“That’s no surprise,” Aunt Mary said warmly. “His lordship has suffered some criticism, and you have such an excellent grasp of the political issues he must deal with, Mr. Rattray.”
Over dessert, and with her aunt out of the room, Lucy, growing tired of his sly glances, questioned him about his family.
He raised his eyebrows. “My, I am surprised to hear you speak at last, Miss Kershaw.”
“Do you still have family in Scotland, sir?”
“I do. My brother, Baron Maitland, still lives in the family castle.”
Lucy widened her eyes, adopting an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. “You grew up in a castle?”
He puffed himself up. “Indeed, I did.”
“Can you tell me about it? I’ve always wanted to visit one.”
He glanced at her suspiciously. “You might find them picturesque, but they are, as you would expect, ancient, built of stone with damp, cold drafty corridors and a strong smell of the sea.”
“The castle overlooks the sea? How thrilling. I can imagine the waves crashing on the rocks below and the gulls wheeling in the sky. Where is it? On the east coast?”
His eyes refused to meet hers. He cleared his throat and took his time over his wine. “The castle is near Linlithgow, north of Edinburgh. You have probably never heard of it.”
It gratified her that her questions had unsettled him. “No, I must confess I haven’t,” Lucy said, adopting a disappointed manner. “When did you leave and come to London?”
His hard gaze searched hers. “Some years ago. There’s no future for a second son there.”
He was telling a tall tale, she was sure of it. He spoke as if he’d rehearsed it. “Do you miss it?”
“Not at all. I have a delightful estate in Essex. So much more comfortable.” He leaned forward. “I’m sure you and your aunt would enjoy a visit.”
“I am certain my aunt would.”
“We must discuss it at a later time,” he said thoughtfully, tapping the table with his fingertips.
Aunt Mary returned and glanced from Mr. Rattray to Lucy. “Would you ask the maid to remove the dessert plates, please, Lucy? We will take our coffee in the parlor.”
Lucy left her aunt merrily chatting. After she gave Maisie the order, she retired to her bedchamber. Mr. Rattray had not liked her questions. She wasn’t surprised. He had his secrets. If only she could find a way to uncover them.
She did not go down again. After the front door shut, Aunt Mary came into her bedchamber, frowning. “Were you rude to Mr. Rattray, Lucy? Something seemed to nag at him, and he finally excused himself and left early.”
She looked so disappointed, it made Lucy a little guilty. “I merely asked him to tell me more about Scotland.”
Aunt Mary nodded thoughtfully. “Very well. When you saw Mr. Nash last, did he say he would call tomorrow?”
“He didn’t mention it.” Lucy felt only relief. So many hours spent in his company last week had been enough. She doubted he’d fallen madly in love with her. He was more interested in himself and how he appeared to others than with her.
Her aunt gazed into the mirror, tweaking a brown curl on her forehead. “He’s persistent. I daresay he will propose soon.”
Lucy’s throat tightened at the thought. “He’s certainly given no indication of it.”
Aunt Mary turned from the mirror. “But if he should, will you accept him?”
Lucy sighed. “I don’t care for him, Aunt Mary.”
“What has that to do with it?” her aunt said crossly. “Affection comesaftermarriage. Being the wife of a prosperous man has great advantages, my girl. Especially when you are in desperate straits.”
Lucy gazed at her, horrified. Her aunt was quite right. Her reluctance to encourage Mr. Nash or any other suitor had made her an imposition. The lie appeared to be spreading through theton. It appeared she must marry soon or return to Bath.
“Give it some serious thought before he proposes,” her aunt said before leaving the room.
