That was it. If he wasn’t going to begin the conversation, she would. She cleared her throat. “I found it so interesting, what you said about the state of the East India Company in your last letter. I’ve often had the same thought myself, but of course, with you being privy to the House of Lords, you must know much more about it than I.”
A fleeting look of terror flickered in his eyes before he resumed the study of his teacup. “Y… yes,” was all he said.
Lucy furrowed her brow. He certainly wasn’t making this easy for her. “What do you think the lord chancellor’s next decision will be? In regard to the company?” She blinked at him inquiringly.
Christian shakily set his cup on the side table next to him and pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his waistcoat. He wiped his forehead and let out a deep breath. “I… I don’t know.”
Lucy frowned. She took another sip of tea. He certainly seemed nervous. Oh, perhaps he wasn’t in the mood to talk about Parliament and the East India Company. It could be rather boring, couldn’t it? That suited her just fine. She actually had another goal today.
She wanted Christian to kiss her.
Frankly, she’d only ever kissed Derek Hunt before. Well, aside from a few overly handsy young men who’d barely been able to locate her lips, let alone use their tongue to any advantage, when she’d first made her debut. No. Derek was the only one who’d ever truly kissed her, and she couldn’t allow that to remain the case. If she and Christian were to have a proper courtship, she might as well get the kissing bit out of the way and erase the duke from her memory altogether. The sooner the better.
She set her tea aside, stood, and moved over to the settee where she boldly plopped down right next to Christian. They were not touching but were barely a pace away from each other. If Cass came in she’d probably scream. If Jane came in she’d probably clap.
“What would you like to discuss, my lord?” She turned her head to face him and leaned in a bit. For convenience’s sake.
Christian rubbed his hands down the legs of his breeches and blew out a deep breath. He would not look at her. Why not? “I… I d… don’t kn… know.”
There was that phrase again. Not particularly varied in his responses, was he? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he might have trouble speaking. He’d certainly stumbled over the words.
She inched a bit closer. He twisted his handkerchief and wiped at his profusely sweating brow. “Is… is… is it h… hot in h… here?”
It was, but so what? She was about to kiss him. Did she need to tell him as much?
“W… would y… you l… like to go f… for a w… walk?” He pressed the handkerchief against his upper lip this time.
Lucy looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip. Very well. Apparently shewasgoing to have to tell him as much. She leaned even closer toward him and whispered, “I was hoping you would kiss me.”
A look of supreme relief crossed Christian’s face and he let out a big sigh. “Oh, I th… thought y… you w… wanted to talk.”
Lucy barely had a moment to contemplate that odd statement before he pulled her into his arms. His mouth came crushing down on hers. Just like Derek, the kiss was bold. Just like Derek, he used his tongue. And just like Derek, he did, indeed, know what he was doing. Christian did all the right things actually, every single one. And that’s why Lucy was so completely baffled when, moments later, when he released her, she realized that she felt absolutely… nothing. She might as well have been kissing a statue.
Blast it. This was not good. It was not good at all.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Lucy rubbed her clammy palms down her skirts and practiced her speech in her head for the tenth time. It was now or never. “Cass, there’s something I must tell you.”
Cass lay snuggled in her bed, her nose pink, her handkerchief clutched in her hand. She looked up at her friend and nodded solemnly. “And there’s something I must tell you, Lucy.”
Lucy shook her head. “Please let me go first.” She’d been planning this all morning. She had to tell Cass what had happened between her and Derek. It was time. The unholy guilt nagged at her, rode her, tortured her. She must tell Cass the truth. Then Cass would understand why she could no longer be her stand-in while she was ill. Lucy mustn’t see Derek again. It was for the best. For all of them. Cass would understand, wouldn’t she? Or would Cass be angry? She couldn’t imagine Cass, pure, sweet, friendly Cass, yelling at her. The image just would not render itself in Lucy’s mind. But she supposed there was a first time for everything and regardless of the consequences, Lucy had to tell her friend the truth. Today. Now.
Cass nodded. “All right, Lucy. You go first.”
Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat and paced in front of Cass’s bed. “It’s about Derek.”
“What I wanted to say is about Derek, too,” Cass answered, sneezing daintily into the handkerchief.
Lucy stopped pacing and furrowed her brow. “What about him?”
Cass leaned back against her pillows. “Well, not Derek specifically, but what Julian said about him.”
Lucy searched Cass’s face. Her entire speech had flown from her mind. Julian said something about Derek? How was that possible? “What do you mean?”
“Oh, Lucy,” Cass said, a sad smile on her face. “I received a letter from Julian this morning. Probably his last.” She pulled the tearstained sheets of paper from underneath her coverlet and clutched them to her chest.
Lucy’s eyes went wide. She gestured to the letter. “When did you get that?”
