Tony did not answer, simply stalked away. He was acting irrationally. He knew it. For a man who prided himself on his self-control, it was becoming clear that he could not control himself around her.
He headed home to drink himself into tomorrow. Perhaps the headache he would have would be a just punishment for his actions of late. He walked most of the way, hoping for a fight with a pickpocket or ruffian, but even they were warm inside that night.
How had his life turned into this farce? Some part of him wished he had ignored Stafford and gone off on his own to find Markham. His mother and brother would have taken Lucinda in hand much better than he seemed to be doing. He had never felt more like a failure than right now. He was letting her down again, and for what? A jealousy he had no right to. He did not want to acknowledge what he felt for her. Was he falling in love with her? No! He could not do it. He had to fight it. He would be no good for her. He could not be aimless and without purpose, not again. He had been there and done that. Stafford had made it clear that he could not have both. It was either married to the woman he loved or married to the job he loved. He was trapped in a no-win situation, and he couldn’t find a way out. She would no doubt not have him anyway, not after how he had been acting lately. The only solution he could come to was to let her marry Dunstan, but he could not watch her marry another man. And that was the crux of the matter.
Lucinda did notnotice Tony had left until they all took their seats. How typical of him to run away whenever he did something stupid or mean or both. She had wanted to slap his face earlier, but she would not bring shame to the Ashtons and not in so public a place.
She had not enjoyed the second half of the evening, although she tried to put a brave face on it. And now she had drank too much champagne, and the room was spinning. The duke escorted her back to the carriage and she could not remember much after that. Not until she found herself lifted in the arms of the duke and taken up to her room. He may be a bit of a curmudgeon sometimes, but at least he was mostly kind.
She tried to fall asleep again, for she was very tired but the room was spinning and she felt a little ill. She tossed off her blankets and went searching for something to eat to settle her stomach. She usually had a little something stashed away but could find nothing. She thought about using the bellpull but could not make someone have to get out of bed for her. She was almost sure she knew where the kitchen was. Surely there would be milk or cheese or even some bread.
She tried to put her dressing gown on, but her arms would not cooperate and like an octopus with too many arms, she gave up and grabbed a shawl instead. If she was quick, she would not get too cold.
She got to the stairs and realized that this was perhaps more of a feat than she had thought. She began down the stairs, holding on to the railing for support, but her legs seemed to be descending faster than the top half of her. She ended up on her bottom and bouncing down the last few stairs. She giggled, for it had actually been quite fun and she was sure she would have looked ridiculous.
She also had stupidly left the room with no candle, so she was peering into the darkness with her arms outstretched in front of her, hoping for a door, or a wall, or something she could use as a guide. Finally, she felt something. It was one of the marble statues that lined the hallway. “Oh, I do beg pardon,” she said, giggling again when she realized she had touched the chest of the fig leafed sculpture with no nose.
Continuing down the hall, feeling her way and using the wall as support for her wobbly legs, she thought she had finally made it to the kitchen. When she stumbled into the room, she instantly regretted this whole adventure. It was not the kitchen, but the library. She had not been here since Tony had given her the miniatures of her parents. Now, she didn’t even have them. Given to Dunstan to paint.
Tony. Dunstan. Men. Argh.
She made it as far as the arm of the sofa. Her head felt far too heavy for her neck, and she needed to sit down for a while. A fire was still going nicely in the grate, so she let herself fall onto the sofa.
“What the…?”
A scream threatened to wake the whole house only to be smothered by a large male hand. Looking down, and lit only by the glow of the fire, she saw it was the one man she did not want to meet down here.
“Lucinda?”
She tried to talk, but his hand was still over her mouth. She thought about biting his hand, but as soon as the thought arrived, the hand disappeared.
“Oh, why you are here?” Her voice sounded entirely an octave too high, and did what she just said even make sense?
“Why are you here?” he countered.
She could smell strong liquor on him. “I came for a snack and something to drunk.” She tried to sound as haughty as she could, for she had a legitimate reason to be downstairs even if her words had come out wrong. She felt dizzy all of a sudden.
“In the library?”
She shrugged and then giggled. “Well, I did not know it was the lib…rary. I thought it was the kitchen.”
He put an errant curl behind her ear. “It is not the kitchen,” he said. “I think someone is a little foxed.”
“I’m no fox.” He frowned at her, so she frowned back.
“Oh lord. Right. You need to go back to bed. Right now.” He pushed her off him and she slumped back to the other side of the sofa and huffed.
“Do not do what I tell me to do. Besides, I am upset with you.” She poked him in the chest.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You do? Well, of course, you do. You were very ungentle…”hiccup“…manly tonight, or was it yesterday now?”
He smiled. She was actually quite adorable when tipsy. “Who knows and who cares.” He brushed the hair off her face. “I love your hair.” He loved her hair? Why did he say that? It was true but really, not the right time, Ashton.
“Oh, that’s nice. And you like my hands too, remember?” She was waving them in front of her face like they possessed magic powers.
He laughed. He had to. “I do. They are very nice. Soft.”
