“I’ll be ready.”
Lucy disembarked, fearing repercussions from Aunt Mary, who waited at the door.
“Mr. Nash called as I expected, Lucy. I don’t know why you didn’t wait to see him.”
“We made no arrangement, Aunt.”
“The friendship is advantageous, I grant you, but surely, you don’t hope to wed above your station.”
Lucy was annoyed. She didn’t befriend people for her own aggrandizement. “Lady Sarah has asked me to call tomorrow. She wishes me to help her with a problem,” she said in a challenging tone.
“You would be better served spending time with Mr. Nash. He is the only gentleman who seems keen to marry you.”
It appeared her aunt was keen to see her married and thought Lucy should focus on finding a husband. But at least she didn’t attempt to prevent her from going. Her aunt turned on the stairs. “It would be impolite to refuse the invitation. But you must be careful not to let Mr. Nash slip through your fingers. You may be sorry when the Season ends, and you go home with nothing to show for it.”
*
Hugh’s coach beganthe long journey from Linlithgow to London. Forced to be patient, his anger gave way to anxiety as he thought of Rattray’s lies. The man was an unmitigated scoundrel. Baron Maitland had invited Hugh to dine. In the baronial dining hall with a fire blazing in the huge fireplace, Hugh had put his question to him.
The big, fair-haired man stroked his beard. “Douglas Rattray? Haven’t seen him for years. His father worked for me, and Douglas grew up here. But he ran away as soon as he was old enough. I doubt his father heard from him again. The father’s gone now, so we can’t ask him. Why are you interested in the man?”
“He resides at present in London. Puts it about that he’s your brother. And behaves as if he’s wealthy.”
“Och!” Frowning, he poured them both a glass of Scotch whisky. “I dinnae think Rattray has much money. Though he certainly had a grand opinion of himself even when he was young.”
Lightning lit up the sky beyond the tall window, and soon after, heavy rain battered the glass. “You’d best put up here tonight. Wouldn’t want you to negotiate the cliff road in the dark with a storm raging. The weather changes quickly here, and it should prove all clear in the morning.” Maitland smiled. “And it would be pleasant to have your company for a game of chess.”
The next day, the storm had rolled away out to sea, as the baron had predicted. The sun struggled through a bank of clouds as Hugh’s coach swayed around the sharp bends in the narrow road. The rocky cliff below was battered by waves. He looked forward to returning to London. Seeing his mother and Sarah and hearing Isabel’s news. Would the wedding go ahead as planned? Or had Sir Phillip thought better of it? Might Lady Ashton change her husband’s mind by suggesting another solution? Like giving up her baby? She had been determined to keep her daughter in England. Hugh especially wanted to deal with Rattray. He only hoped the gentleman hadn’t put whatever plan he had in his mind into action. And he had some scheme in mind, Hugh was sure of it.
He held the strap as the coach lurched around a corner. When would he see Lucy again? She was constantly in his thoughts, her soft, brown eyes, her luscious mouth, and her stern insistence that he wasn’t to involve himself in her troubles. She made no secret of it. In the society in which he moved, such spontaneous honesty was rare. People guarded their words, and most were scrupulously polite. And some were not above lying to gain society’s favor. Perhaps Lucy had been brought updifferently, but it was certainly refreshing. And it was clear when they were close on the dance floor or in his carriage together. She was as drawn to him as he was to her. The air fairly crackled between them. But she was determined to keep him at arm’s length. Well, he had interfered in her affairs whether she approved of it or not, but he was sure she’d be relieved to hear the news he brought her.
Chapter Twelve
As Lucy donnedher pelisse to enter the Fairburns’ carriage, her aunt stood in the entry hall with her arms folded. “Don’t forget, we must shop this afternoon for material for your new evening gown.”
“But, Aunt, I thought you approved of my friendship with Lady Sarah.”
“Rattray warned me that Lord Dorchester is a rake. Apparently, Sir Phillip Ashton has been trying to pin him down to announce he and his daughter’s betrothal, but Lord Dorchester is resisting, even when it was arranged some time ago.”
She knew instinctively that Rattray had lied to her aunt. And this too, would be untrue. Lucy could not believe that of Lord Dorchester. He had never taken liberties with her, even though she sensed he wanted to.
“But you tell me Lord Dorchester is out of town, so I need not worry,” her aunt said.
Lucy could argue no further with her aunt just then. “They have sent a maid to accompany me. I can’t keep her waiting.”
She felt strangely lightheaded as the fine equipage carried her and the Fairburn maid across London. Aunt Mary was right. She should not grow accustomed to such finery, or the company of an elegant, titled family. They came from a different world. For now, Lucy would concentrate on helping her friend, if she could. Yet at the park, Lord Cardew had proved he would bedifficult to deal with. What Sarah thought Lucy could do, and what she could achieve when faced with an angry viscount, were two different things, and made her a little nervous.
A liveried footman admitted Lucy into the soaring entrance hall. Sarah waited for her, where twin staircases climbed to the upper stories. Appearing flustered, she whisked Lucy to the drawing room. “I hope Lord Cardew doesn’t stay long. Mama might come down, and to complicate matters further, Mr. Beaufort has left his card,” she said breathlessly as they sat together on the cream, satin sofa.
“Lord Cardew won’t be overjoyed to find me here,” Lucy warned her again.
Worry rumpled Sarah’s smooth forehead. “I want to get this over and done with.”
“Then you have made up your mind?”
Sarah nodded. “Let’s say I have come to my senses at last.”
A loud rap at the door echoed through the house. Minutes later, the butler showed Lord Cardew in. When he gazed at Lucy, he scowled. “Miss Kershaw.” After a stiff nod, he ignored her, going to kiss Sarah’s hand. “Might we have a moment alone, Sarah?”
