“She told me some nonsense about how there are things to consider, whatever that means. But she hasn’t set a date despite her mother’s insistence as well as Lord Branford’s. What does that tell you?” Lucy stamped her foot on the wooden floor.
“It tells me it’s none of my blasted business.” Christian wasn’t about to tell Lucy how he knew that Sarah wasn’t interested in him or at least that she had no intention of calling off the wedding in favor of him. His meddling friend would just have to take his word for it this time.
“But I saw the way she looked at you the other night, Christian,” Lucy pleaded. “She’s already more than half in love with you.”
Christian stood and tossed both the paper and his napkin onto the table. “Lucy, I’ve always appreciated your penchant for matchmaking, but heretofore it’s been done between two parties who were not already attached. This time you go too far. You must stand down.”
Lucy plunked her hands on her hips. “Tell me you aren’t half in love with her, Christian. If you can honestly tell me that, I’ll stand down.”
Christian slammed his palm on the table. “It’s too late, Lucy. Evenyoucan’t fix this.”
“But—”
Christian clenched his jaw. “Lucy, I’m warning you. Stay the hell out of it.” He turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Lucy Hunt standing alone in his breakfast room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Later that afternoon, Cass and Jane arrived at Lucy’s doorstep for their weekly visit. The tea had been served and Jane was halfway through her second tea cake when Lucy, heaping lumps of sugar into her cup, announced, “Ladies, we must do something to help Berkeley and Sarah.”
Cass glanced up from her own cup, her pretty forehead marred by a frown. “What? Why?”
Lucy stirred in the sugar. “Because they need our help, of course. Berkeley desperately needs it. I can tell.”
Jane politely swallowed her bit of cake before speaking. “What in heaven’s name makes you think that?”
Lucy turned toward her friend. “Because he swore at me, Jane. He told me to stay thehellout of it. If those aren’t the words of someone crying out for help, I don’t know what are.”
Jane shook her head. “I can’t imagine what it’s like living inside your head, Lucy.”
Lucy flourished her spoon in the air. “I don’t know what you mean, Janie. Everything in my head makes perfect sense to me.”
“I agree with Lucy,” Cass offered. “I’ve never seen Lord Berkeley so agitated. He ended his dance with Lady Claire immediately to rush after Lady Sarah when she left the ballroom. I think he cares for her a great deal.”
“But isn’t she engaged to Lord Branford?” Jane asked, helping herself to another tea cake.
“Yes,” Lucy said, tasting her tea for the proper excessive amount of sugar.
“And?” Jane prompted.
“And that’s obviously one reason they need our help. She’s in quite a pickle,” Lucy replied, dropping in one final lump.
“Did sheaskfor your help?” Jane prodded.
“No,” Lucy confessed, stirring the last lump into the cup. Her spoon made little dinging noises against the china.
“Did shehintthat she wanted your help?” Jane continued.
“No,” Lucy repeated, then lifted her cup and took a satisfied sip.
“Has Lord Berkeley doneeitherof those things?” Jane prodded.
“Not in so many words.” Lucy flourished the spoon again.
Jane rubbed the spot between her eyes with two fingers. “Then why in heaven’s name would you think either of them wants your help?”
“I didn’t say theywantour help,” Lucy replied. “I said theyneedour help. Quite different. I’m certain you’ll agree.”
Cass sipped her tea. “Let’s hear her out, Janie. What are you planning, Lucy?”
