Page 16 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

However, Luci would not look away until he did one or the other.

She would never cower before him—never allow him to rule her as he did his wife.

Whether it was her own pride or her lack of self-preservation that kept her narrowed stare trained on her sire, she was uncertain.

Lucianna refused to be the broken woman her mother was.

She would not allow her father, of all people, to extinguish her flame.

It startled her how similar the man was to Abercorn. Though her father had never physically harmed his wife or children, he’d come close. Who was more dangerous? A man who did not hide his temper, or a man who remained calm and reserved at all times.

“Lady Lucianna?” The Camden butler, McMahon, cleared his throat. Neither she nor her father had noticed the servant enter the room. “You have guests in the blue salon.”

Finally, the marquis returned to his meal, and Luci made to stand, smoothing her gown as the footman pulled out her chair.

“Make yourself available this afternoon,” the marquis muttered, slathering his toast with marmalade. “You will attend me at an important meeting.”

“Yes, Father.” Luci nodded. The marquis had never included her in a meeting, whether concerning his many business endeavors or those family-related. It was not unknown to the Camden clan that the marquis—and his decisions—ruled everything. “Do send for me when you are ready to depart.”

She hurried from the room before her father could halt her for not requesting permission to be excused.

Edith and Ophelia were waiting in the blue salon.

Luci had expected them since she’d departed Edith’s ball the previous night without notifying her friends. They had every right to be angry with her, but Edith appeared downright furious, and Ophelia…her face was red and puffy, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“A-choo!” Ophelia brought a kerchief to her nose as she sneezed.

Edith set her arm around Ophelia’s shoulder before turning to Luci. “Where did you disappear to last night?”

Luci recoiled at the blonde’s angry tone.

It was usually Luci who raised her voice amongst the trio, and Edith who was collected, never daring to allow her decorum to waver.

“Yes.” Ophelia sniffled. “I went to the cherub fountain, but you were not there. I waited in the cold for over an hour, calling for you, until I gave up and returned to the ball. And now—a-choo—I have a cold.”

“Ophel—”

“Do not Ophelia me!” She wiped at her dripping nose before turning her glare back to Luci. “I am now sick—sick!—and for what? Where did you run off to?”

“You left my betrothal ball, Lucianna,” Edith jumped in, her fury dimming to something closer to hurt. “It was an evening, only one night, to celebrate Triston and me—and you deserted us. For what?”

Luci proceeded into the room and sank into the nearest chair, the upcoming meeting with her father forgotten. It was Ophelia’s turn to comfort Edith as she wiped a tear from her cheek. This was not at all what Luci had thought would occur when next she saw her dear friends.

“Please accept my sincerest apologies. I had no intention of leaving you out in the cold…or departing your ball.” Luci clasped her hands in her lap, hoping she properly conveyed how sorry she truly was. Her head hung in remorse, but she peeked up at her friends, desperate to hear them voice that they’d forgive her. “I was in trouble. I had to leave or risk scandal for all of us. Please…”

Both women melted at the sorrow in Luci’s tone.

“What happened?” Edith asked. “Ophelia told me it was Montrose who stormed across the ballroom. I didn’t so much as set eyes on him.”

“Oh, I tried to distract him.” Ophelia coughed, swiped at her watering eyes, and continued. “But he marched right around me. Were you able to escape him?”

Luci was uncertain how much to share with her friends. Obviously, not how muscular and secure his arms felt as they held her. Nor would she speak of her desire to run her fingers through his silky black hair as he pressed his body firmly to hers, his hand cupping her posterior. And especially not that a pool of warmth had gathered between her thighs when Montrose had set his lips to hers.

However, she did owe them some form of explanation.

A smidgen of truth, without all the glorious details.

“Montrose kissed me!” Luci covered her mouth in utter shock.