Godfrey and Lucy were seated on the settee opposite. Lucy had squeezed herself into a far corner, but her efforts to escape Godfrey had failed. The scoundrel must have chased after her each time she edged away from him, because he was seated in the middle of the settee, his leg pressed against hers.
Ciaran took one look at the flush of misery on her face and was instantly furious. He took a step toward Godfrey, his hands clenching into fists, but before he could tear the man’s head off, he caught Lucy’s gaze.
She shook her head slightly, her dark brown eyes pleading.
Ciaran sucked in a deep breath and forced a bland smile to his lips. “Mrs. Jarvis, Miss Jarvis.” He offered the two ladies a polite bow, then turned to the other settee. “Lady Lucinda, and…Lord Godfrey.” His teeth ground together as his gaze fell on Godfrey’s smug face.
Jesus, he couldn’t recall ever despising another man as much as he despised this one. He wanted to snatch Lucy up into his arms and run off with her.
“Ramsey.” Godfrey swept a contemptuous glance from the top of Ciaran’s head to his boots, then offered him an icy smile. “How do you do? I didn’t realize you were acquainted with the Jarvises.”
Bloody liar. Godfrey had seen him with Lucy at Lady Ivey’s ball just the other night.
“Yes, very well acquainted. With the Jarvises, and with Lady Lucinda.” Ciaran let his gaze linger on Lucy. “Better acquainted every day, in fact.”
Godfrey’s arrogant smirk faded. “I see. Well then, take a seat, Ramsey.” He waved a hand at the settee where Mrs. Jarvis and her daughter were seated, sneering as he inched closer to Lucy.
“Kind of you, Godfrey, but I’m afraid I can’t stay.” Ciaran paused just long enough for a gleam of satisfaction to enter Godfrey’s eyes, then he added, “I’m here to fetch Miss Jarvis and Lady Lucinda for a visit to Bond Street. Lord Markham, Lord Vale, and Vale’s sister, Lady Felicia, are in their carriage, waiting for us. Don’t say you’ve forgotten your promise to accompany us?” Ciaran raised a meaningful eyebrow at Lucy. “You said so at Lady Ivey’s ball the other night, remember?”
“No, no, of course they haven’t forgotten.” Mrs. Jarvis leapt to her feet as if the settee were on fire. “Go and fetch your cloaks, dears. You mustn’t keep Mr. Ramsey and your friends waiting.”
Godfrey’s face went an ugly shade of red, but there was little he could do without causing a scene. He rose imperiously to his feet. “I’ll take my leave, then.” He smiled at Mrs. Jarvis, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. More like a threatening baring of his teeth. “You’ll be sure to tell your husband I called, won’t you?”
Mrs. Jarvis paled, but aside from an anxious wringing of her hands, she remained steady. “Yes, of course, my lord. You’re more than welcome to stay until he returns—”
“No. I’ve other business to attend to.” Godfrey glanced between Ciaran and Lucy, his mouth tight. He offered the party a frigid bow, and took his leave.
Once the door closed behind him there was an audible intake of breath, followed by a sigh of relief.
Mrs. Jarvis crossed the room and took Ciaran’s hand. “How pleased I am to see you this afternoon, Mr. Ramsey. Such a timely arrival, too. I’m afraid we’ve all grown a bit…dull. Too much time indoors, I daresay. Some fresh air will do my niece and daughter no end of good. Indeed, I encourage you to call as often as you like.”
“Every day, even,” Lucy added, rising from the settee. The cornered look Godfrey had put on her face dissolved into a smile as her gaze met Ciaran’s.
Ciaran’s chest loosened, and an answering smile rose to his lips. “It would be my pleasure.”
* * * *
“Are we really going shopping on Bond Street?” Lucy was so elated at her escape from Godfrey she was bouncing on the carriage seat and trying at the same time to tie the ribbons of her bonnet more securely under her chin. “I thought gentlemen despised shopping.”
Ciaran looked down at her, tucked closely beside him on the narrow seat, then glanced at the matronly lady sitting across from them. Mrs. Jarvis had sent a servant along for the sake of propriety, but the woman kept her attention fixed on what was passing outside the window, and did her best to ignore them.
Otherwise, Ciaran and Lucy were alone. Vale had claimed Eloisa Jarvis as soon as she appeared and had taken her up into his own carriage with Lord Markham and Lady Felicia.
Ciaran leaned closer to speak directly into Lucy’s ear, his voice low. “Does Godfrey call on you every day?”
Lucy frowned. “I don’t want to talk about Lord Godfrey. Please, Ciaran. Can’t I enjoy my freedom while I have it?”
Ciaran shook his head, his jaw tight. “Answer me first, lass. Your uncle demands you receive Godfrey?”
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly.
Damn it. Just as he’d suspected, Lucy was utterly at their mercy. “I’ve known men like Godfrey before. He’s a predator, and your uncle’s no better. Promise me you won’t ever let yourself be left alone with either of them.”
It wasn’t enough, but unless he could find a way to spend every moment at Portman Square until Lucy’s twenty-first birthday, it was the best Ciaran could do for now.
Lucy sighed. “I promise to avoid them both as much as I possibly can.”
“Good.” Ciaran was somewhat pacified, but Lucy’s smile had fled. “Don’t look like that, Lucy,” he murmured, his lips close enough so his breath stirred the wispy tendrils of hair peeking out from the edge of her straw bonnet. “Not another word about either of them for the rest of the day. I promise it.”
