CHAPTER 1
“Father?” the Honorable Lucy Whitcombe said as she knocked on the open door which led into her father’s office. “You wished to speak with me?”
“Ah, Lucy!” Lucy’s father, Lord Whitcombe, started when he looked up to find his daughter in the doorway. And while his smile was love-filled and adoring, there was a sense of nervousness about his demeanor. “Yes, yes, please…” He gestured for her to enter.
Lucy did as she was bid and entered her father’s office.
It was a cramped space, dark and dusty, and her father looked small and frail when surrounded by the looming bookshelves and mounds of books stacked on either side of him.
What Lucy noticed most of all, however, was how worried he appeared at the sight of her.
This was strange, as he was the one who had sent for her not five minutes earlier. Yet, as she walked toward his desk, his eyes looked everywhere but in her direction, and the way he fidgeted with his hands was telling.
“Is something the matter, Father?” she asked.
“No, why would you say that?” He spoke a little too quickly, and still he was unable to look at her directly.
Lucy frowned to herself…if I was not worried before, now I have every reason to be. No… do not get ahead of yourself, Lucy. I am sure this is nothing.
“You missed breakfast,” Lucy said with a warm smile. “That is not like you.” She then chuckled softly. “I cannot remember the last time you forwent the chance to eat.”
Lucy’s comment saw her father relax considerably, and he rested his hand on his swollen belly. “Work is all… you know how busy this time of year is. As summer comes, so does the deluge. It feels as if I spend half the year twiddling my thumbs and the next half working them to the bone.”
“You work too hard, Father. I have always said as much.”
“Perhaps.” He slunk down in his chair. “But your mother… she asks so little, save that I look out for you and your sister. We all have a purpose in life, Lucy, and this is mine.” His smile was not as warm as it had been, and Lucy saw in it a hint of reservation.
Yes… something is clearly worrying him.
Lucy loved her father dearly, and for him there was little she would not do. So much did she love him, in fact, that she chose to hold her tongue and not remind him that her mother was dead, and the woman he referred to as such was little more than an imposter. The same went for this so-called ‘sister.’
It always upset her father to see Lucy not get along with her stepmother and stepsister because, as he so often said, he had remarried for her sake, as much as his own.
Perhaps he had. After all, marriage was the key to advancement in their world, security provided, and staying ahead of unwanted rumors and gossip. To have not married would surely have seen the two looked down on and hurt Lucy’s own aspirations for marriage when the time came.
“You sent for me?” Lucy pivoted the conversation, seeing no point in dwelling on that which would only upset them both. The fact was, her father had remarried, he claimed to be happy, and that was all there was to it.
“Ah, yes.” Her father straightened; he was a small man in posture, kindly in temperament, and a little too eager to please. “Would you like to sit?”
“Do I need to?”
“You remind me of her so much, you know.” He did not say who she reminded him of, because there was no need. The twinkle in his eyes said it all. “The way you turn from lamb to lion in the blink of an eye.”
“Father.” She looked pointedly at her father. “What is going on?”
“To the point…” He exhaled deeply. “Yes, I suppose that is for the best. I have been doing much thinking lately, Lucy, regarding your future…”
Lucy braced herself, careful not to speak until he was done. But she felt the anger in her boiling already, knowing well what he meant when he said that he had been doing much thinking.
She has been doing the thinking for him, no doubt. That he cannot say it is proof enough that he knows how much I detest her.
“… and at twenty and two it is time that you begin the process of courtship.” He looked at her, a raised eyebrow, expecting her to say something. She said nothing, smiling pleasantly, as if her insides where not squirming. “More to that point, a circumstance has arisen that I think will be perfect for you.”
Still, Lucy said nothing.
Indeed, her father had raised the topic often of her future, where marriage was concerned. As Lucy always told him, she would wed when she met the right man and not before. And should thatman never appear, so be it. Better to be single and happy than tethered to a weight, dropped into the ocean, and left to drown.
“Lady Fairvale is throwing a… how do you say it?” He clicked his tongue. “A function next week, one that you shall be attending.”
