“What in the—?” Christian’s jaw fell open. All he could do was stare.
Upton glanced at him and then at Sarah and back. “Speak of the devil. Didn’t expect to see Lady Sarah here of all places. You all right, Berkeley?”
“No. I mean, yes. It’s… it’s fine. It’s nothing. What were you saying?” He tried to drag his attention back to his friend. But Christian didn’t hear a word Upton said. All he could think about was Sarah. He imagined he could smell the scent of lilies on the breeze. What was she doing here? Did she know Daphne or Rafe? Well enough to attend their wedding? She hadn’t mentioned she was coming. Had she seen him?
That question, at least, was quickly answered when Sarah glanced at him and immediately averted her eyes. Moments later she was gone, following Lady Moreland and her mother back into the house.
Christian had to go. He had to find out what she was doing here. “Excuse me a moment, won’t you, Upton?”
“Going to greet Lady Sarah?” Upton asked with a wide grin.
“No,” Christian ground out, already striding back toward the house. “I’m going to hunt down your cousin Lucy.”
***
Hunting down Lucy Hunt was much easier said than done. Christian spent the better part of the afternoon attempting to locate the elusive duchess. By teatime he was convinced she was avoiding him. Every time he found someone he was certain would know where she was, that person managed to have a convenient and suspicious lapse of memory.
“I believe I saw her in the conservatory,” Cass offered.
“I only know she’s not in the library,” Jane announced.
“I could have sworn she told me she was going riding,” her husband, Claringdon, informed him.
A half hour before dinner, Christian finally spotted her, coming around a corner in one of the downstairs corridors. “Lucy,” he called. She quickly turned to retreat in the opposite direction.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He set off after her, nearly running down the marble hallway and skidding to a halt once he’d reached the corner.
Lucy had made it halfway down the other side and was busily looking about, obviously for someplace to hide.
“Stop!”
She whirled around and gave him an innocent look, as if she hadn’t been trying to elude him at all.
“Berkeley, there you are,” she said prettily, pushing a dark curl behind her ear.
He arched a brow. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been hiding from me.”
They walked toward each other and met in the middle of the corridor.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Lucy pushed the same errant curl back into her coiffure. She didn’t meet his eyes.
“Yes, you do.” He gave her a look dripping with skepticism.
More blinking innocence. “Did you have something tosayto me, Berkeley?”
“Yes, I have something to say to you. Why is Lady Sarah here?”
Lucy had perfected her innocent face; he’d give her that. “What? Lady Sarah is here? Why, I didn’t—”
“Don’t pretend,” he drawled. “You know as well as I do that she’s here, and I want to knowwhy.”
Lucy sighed. “Why does it matter why she’s here?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you or did you not have a hand in inviting her here?”
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, too. “The question is… now that she’s here, what are you going to do about it?”
Christian’s arms dropped to his sides. “What the hell does that mean?”
