Page 66 of Give Him a Chance

“Oh, there goes the doorbell,” said Lucy vaguely.

It was Bernard’s turn to freeze.

No. No, surely not. Fate would not be so cruel as to wrench me away from her.

And that was when the realization dawned.

He could not live without her. Lady Lucy Chance was a woman with more passion than sense, and yet more sense than many of the passionate. She was making a difference in the world and she was doing it in her way, the way she thought best. She was kind, and she was silly, and she didn’t care for Society’s morals when they did not align with hers because she was not blinded by pomp and ceremony and rank, and she…

She was beautiful. Her heart was so beautiful, and one day, perhaps one day soon, Bernard was going to have to get up and leave this place and never see her again.

“Bernard?”

Bernard swallowed. God, it was like a knife to his chest, the knowledge that he could never be with this woman. How had this happened? How had he allowed himself to open his heart to someone to whom he could never truly give it?

“Bernard? The visitor was probably not for me. I’m not expecting anyone. Percy’s friend or household business.” Lucy had reached out and he looked down to see her hand covering his own. “Bernard, are you quite well?”

“Yes. Yes, quite well,” he murmured, knowing he would never be whole again, now that he had unknowingly given her his soul.

And he wouldn’t ask for it back.

“In that case, you have six hundred and fifty-four letters to go,” Lucy said with a squeeze of his hand as she released it. “Come on, the day is young!”

It did not remain so. Hours slipped by, with no announcement of a sudden visitor, the time flying far faster than Bernard could have imagined, mostly because of Lucy’s laughter and the conversation that flowed between them so naturally, he could hardly believe it. Before Bernard had really realized what was happening, the sun had started to descend in the sky and the shadows were growing longer, and—

“Oh!” Lucy looked up at the noise, which had pricked Bernard’s ears too.

“Was—was that the dinner gong?” he asked vaguely, looking down at his ink-splattered fingers and his wrist, which he was certain would never be the same again.

“You know, I think it might be,” Lucy said indistinctly, glancing over at the longcase clock in the corner. “My word, I—I had no idea it was so late.” She turned back to him, her fingers tickling at her throat. “As my parents aren’t here, I doubt Percy will be offended if I don’t dress for dinner. Do you mind?”

Mind? This woman could come to dinners absolutely nude and Bernard would not mind. He might prefer it.

Probably not the best thing to say to a daughter of an earl, though.

“No. No, why would I?” was what he said aloud. “I’m sure your brother won’t mind.”

Lord Percy did not mind. It would have been understandably difficult for him to mind because he was absent.

“Lord Percy asked me to tell you that he is avoiding you, Lady Lucy, and so he has gone to the gaming hell you’ve agreed never to let your parents know about,” intoned Cawthorne as the two of them emerged from the study and walked across the hall toward the dining room. “He said that he would be back late, and to dine without him.”

Bernard’s spine stiffened.

Now hang on!He was hardly a prude, nor a slave to Society’s sensibilities, and admittedly, they had just spent hours alone together in a room and no one had bothered to look in on them, but even he knew that a young lady like Lucy needed a chaperone of sorts around an unmarried man like himself. Lord Percy, while a rogue in many respects, understood that.

So why the devil had he left them alone?

“Oh.” Lucy glanced at him, her cheeks pinking—which did not make sense, Bernard told himself sternly, because she was smart. She knew that this… That they… “Well, thank you, Cawthorne. Please serve now. I’m starving.”

Unbidden thoughts of a hungry Lucy—a hungry Lucy of a very different kind—poured into his mind. Bernard cleared his throat, but it was a fit of coughing that finally dislodged them.

When he straightened, it was to see Lucy looking at him with a hitch in her breath. “Are you quite well, Bernard? Will I have to nurse you while my parents are away?”

Lord save me from suggestive statements from women who look like that, Bernard thought ruefully as they entered the dining room together.

As usual, there were a pair of footmen standing at each end of the room. It had never bothered him particularly because the room had also always been full of Chances.

Now it was just himself and Lucy, and somehow, that felt far more intimate. Far more exposing.