Meg gulped and opened her mouth to reply, but Lucy continued, “Because while I was busily telling everyone you were in the ladies’ retiring room, lying through my teeth like a good chaperone should, I happen to know you were outside in the gardens somewhere, alone with him.”
Meg sighed. Honesty was the best policy. She spent a moment fumbling with the teapot’s lid before admitting, “Hart took me out there to cure my hiccups.”
“And?” Lucy drew out the word dramatically, her eyebrows conspicuously raised.
“And it worked.” Meg pushed the silver bowl containing the precious sugar lumps closer to Lucy.
Lucy ignored the offering and arched a dark brow. “What, may I ask, was the cure?”
Oh dear. Honesty. Honesty. Honesty. Meg finished pouring the tea, set the pot on the tarnished silver salver, and took a seat across from the duchess. She left her teacup sitting on the salver. “He kissed me.”
To Lucy’s credit, she didn’t even blink. In fact, her face remained completely blank. “Are you telling me that the dance I orchestrated last night turned into a full-blown kiss in the span of a few moments?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t exactly likethat.” Meg splayed her hands wide as if to explain.
Lucy cocked her head to the side. “I’m sorry. Didn’t you say he kissed you?”
“Yes,” Meg admitted, lacing her fingers together and setting her hands in her lap. She was tempted to indulge by taking a lump of the forbidden sugar, but her mother would scold her unmercifully, if she dared.
“Then it wasexactlylikethat,” Lucy declared, taking a sip of curiously sugarless tea.
“By the by, I didn’t particularly like that you forced Sarah into convincing Hart to dance with me. I don’t want to be pitied, Lucy.”
Lucy nudged at a dark curl with her free hand. “The man kissed you. It doesn’t sound as if he pities you one bit. Besides, regardless of my methods, which are admittedly often messy and unconventional, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? A dance with Hart.”
Meg leaned forward. “Yes, but—”
“Look, dear, it’s a fact. Sometimes you need to make a thing happen before it is wanted.”
Meg furrowed her brow. “Pardon?”
Lucy shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes a thingbecomeswanted due to its having happened.”
Meg leaned forward and picked up her teacup. “With all due respect, Your Grace, that sounds insane.”
“Does it, dear? For example, when I first met my husband, Derek, I wanted him to go away immediately, but he wouldn’t go. He was convinced he needed to marry Cass out of some misguided sense of honor to Julian, whom we all thought was dead at the time, but that is not the point. The point is, Derek wouldn’t leave, and the more time I spent in his company, the more I realized I wanted him for myself. Which made everything horribly complicated but that, also, is not the point at the moment.”
Meg pressed a fingertip to her temple, determined not to lose track ofherpoint. “I don’t want Hart forced into anything.”
“A dance hardly hurt him, dear. Not to mention, he obviously enjoyed it if he kissed you afterward.” Lucy winked at her, her eyes twinkling.
Meg set her cup back on the salver and lifted thesugar bowl in her hands. She offered it to Lucy. “He was only trying to cure me of hiccups.”
“Ridiculous. I’ve never heard of that particular remedy. I certainly wouldn’t kiss, say, Lord Cranberry if he began to hiccup. I must commend Hart on his ingenuity, however. It was quite a good ruse to steal a kiss.” Lucy hesitated for just a moment before waving away the sugar.
Perhaps Lucy was right. Would Hart have kissed anyone else who had hiccups? “I want to be clear,” Meg said. “I’ve asked for your help, but I want Hart to fall in love with me and ask me to marry himwillingly.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Dear, what do you expect me to do? Truss him up like a hare and deliver him to you upon an altar? EvenIdon’t have that sort of power or influence.” Lucy narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Although I admit I had not considered such a scheme, and it does have a certain efficiency about it, doesn’t it?”
The look on the duchess’s face was positively frightening, as if she were truly considering it. “Lucy, you wouldn’t—”
Lucy waved a hand in the air, dismissing the thought. “Let’s concentrate on the details. After he kissed you, did he say or do anything else promising?”
Meg blushed. “In apology, he did offer to dance with me at the next three balls. To help me find a husband.”
Lucy grinned from ear to ear. “Excellent. Why didn’t you tell me that earlier, dear? It’s precisely what we need of him.”
Meg pressed the balls of her hands to her eyes. “What do you mean? I don’t want Hart to help me find a husband. I want him tobemy husband.”
