CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“So what did you and Cass have on the agenda for today?” Lucy asked with a saucy smile when Derek appeared at the town house that afternoon.
Derek returned her smile and bowed over her hand. “I was hoping to tour the ruins. The bathhouses.”
Lucy sat on a settee in the drawing room. As soon as she saw Derek, her plan to get out of the day’s activity somehow vanished into ash. What harm did it do, really, for her to spend time with him? He wanted to get to know more about Cass, didn’t he? She could help.
Very well. Perhaps the harm it did was that in the last few days while she’d been busily romping with Derek, she hadn’t spent any time whatsoever with Lord Berkeley. Oh, the entire thing was so backward and awful. And to make matters worse, soon Lord Berkeley would be returning to London for a bit before retiring to the country for the autumn and winter. She might not see him again for quite a long while. All of these arguments and more raced through Lucy’s head. Guilt, it seemed, was her constant companion. But it didn’t keep her from looking up at the handsome duke standing in front of her and saying, “Visit the bathhouses? Now, that is something I’d very much like to do.”
He bowed to her gallantly and offered his arm. “I’m assuming Lady Cassandra continues to be waylaid with a cold.”
“Yes, poor girl,” Lucy replied. More guilt. The truth was she hadn’t even checked to see how Cass was doing today. Just assumed—no, hoped—that her friend was still stricken with her cold so that she, awful person she was, might enjoy more time with her beau.
Derek smiled at Lucy. “By all means, then, let’s go.”
They strolled together out of the drawing room just as Garrett walked past. “Good afternoon.” Garrett gave Lucy a raised brow. “Claringdon.” He nodded toward the duke.
“Upton.” Derek inclined his head in Garrett’s direction.
“Here to see Cass, I assume?” Garrett asked.
“Yes, and since she remains ill, Lady Lucy and I have decided to go see the bathhouses together.”
To his credit, Garrett’s face remained completely blank. “Ah, I see. Enjoy yourselves.”
Lucy wrinkled her nose at her cousin but continued through the foyer with Derek.
“Oh, Lucy,” Garrett called out when they’d nearly reached the door.
She turned. “Yes?”
“Berkeley says he hopes to have the chance to see you again before he leaves town.”
Lucy dropped her gaze to her shoes. Guilt, guilt, and more guilt. “Yes. That would be… nice.”
Garrett gave her a funny look and strode away.
Derek frowned but helped Lucy retrieve her bonnet and cloak. Then he escorted her out of the town house and assisted her into his carriage. Lucy nearly gasped when she stepped inside. The conveyance was smartly appointed with squabs of deep claret velvet and polished brass fixtures. A carriage fit for a duke. She couldn’t help but think that the next time she rode in this carriage it might be as the friend of the Duchess of Claringdon, Cass.
A footman and a groom accompanied them as the coach rumbled over the mud through town to the bathhouses. When they came to a stop in front of the imposing stone structure, Derek helped Lucy to alight from the coach. She tried to ignore the pulse of heat that shot up her arm when he touched her.This is for Cass, she reminded herself as he placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her along to the ruins.
They entered the large building. The high gothic arches and stonework made Lucy turn in a circle, examining everything, her mouth a wide O.
“You’ve never seen this before?” Derek asked, watching her fascination.
“Oh, I’ve seen it before, more than once,” she replied. “But it never fails to amaze me.”
For some reason, he smiled at that.
“I’ve never seen it before.” He looked up and turned in a circle, too. “What do you think we should explore first?”
Lucy nearly clapped her hands. “Oh, the pool. The pool.”
“What’s the pool?”
She gestured with her hand. “Follow me.”
Derek followed her down a corridor and through a dank, dark tunnel that smelled like copper. They came out in a cool, shadowed room that had a green pool in the center.
