Page 15 of Give Him a Chance

Ah. Right.

Lucy smiled weakly. “Er, now, Papa?”

The man held her gaze sternly, then melted and held out a hand. “You are the most darling thing, you know that? Blessed, I am, blessed with two daughters.”

“Now, you’re not allowed to start weeping again,” teased his only son and Lucy’s brother, Percy. “It used to be that you’d only cry at weddings, but now it’s every morning over breakfast.”

“A man can’t help it if he feels a great deal!” pointed out the earl hotly as Lucy took a seat opposite her father, her stomach tingling in anticipation. “Besides, you’d prefer to have a father who cares about you, who is interested in your lives, yes?”

“I’m just saying—”

“AndI’mjust saying—”

“Cousin Benjamin’s being sued again,” Percy said conversationally.

The entire table, including Lucy, groaned. “What has he done this time?”

“Some sort of financial complication.” Percy chuckled. He and two of his cousins, Michael and Benjamin, had been closefor many years, Lucy knew, though he was thankfully perhaps the most innocent of the trio. “It’s always something, isn’t it?”

“I must say, we’re very fortunate to have a son who doesn’t court scandal in such a way,” her father said sagely. “Though I wish myunwed daughterswere a little more circumspect with their chaperones.”

Lucy knew the comment was for her, of course. Evelyn was married now, and she may have been a little mischievous at times when under the earl’s roof, but she had never so brazenly gone out in public alone like Lucy did.

“You old rogue,” said Percy. “We’ve heard all the stories! Mother was hardly ever chaperoned herself while you were courting!”

Though the earl blubbered in response, the countess didn’t even flinch. “It was different for me in comparison with the expectations for the daughters of an earl. According to the rank of one’s birth, the statistical possibility of scandal…” began her mother, taking a deep inhale as she always did before a long mathematical speech.

“I have something to say,” Lucy said quietly.

The breakfast table stilled. Percy and their father turned to her with arched brows, and the countess paused with a piece of toast halfway to her mouth.

Lucy swallowed as her pulse raced. Yes, this was the only way to do it: straight away, as soon as possible. She could not allow this charade to go on any longer.

“I… I think the footmen should be excused, Papa,” she said quietly, her voice weak and her resolve fading with every passing second. She waited as her father nodded at Cawthorne and the servants cleared out.

She could not do this. She could not!

It would be to admit a terrible lapse of judgment, that she had put herself—or rather, been put—in an impossible situation.

And the gossip! Even if the judge had evicted the gallery before his proclamation, there had still been witnesses. Once the news got out that Lady Lucy Chance had been handed, or gifted, or whatever had happened…given a criminal?

The whole family would be implicated in crime.Crime!

Her position at the Prison Reform Society would be over. Her father would never look at her in the same way again. And Dixon—

“Sorry I’m late for breakfast.” Dixon clapped his hands together as he entered the breakfast room, inclining his head to the lady of the house. Oh, my, but he cleaned upverynicely. He looked quite the gentleman in the old suit of her father’s, and his complexion had brightened after a bath and a shave. “I wasn’t entirely sure what time you…you…” His voice faltered as he took in the expressions of everyone in the room. “Have I interrupted something?”

Yes, blast you, Lucy wanted to say, but she did not for three reasons.

Firstly, because her father had views on ladies cursing, and it was in and of itself a curse.

Secondly, because her pulse had skipped a beat when the irritatingly charming man had entered the room, and that was most annoying of him.

Thirdly, because she had completely forgotten what words were and so could only utter sounds.

“Uhhh,” Lucy said.

“Ah, Mr. Dixon, not at all. Sit yourself down,” said her mother, ever the gracious host. “There is a variance in breakfast times amongst the nobility, is there not? I once calculated—”