Page 38 of The Misfortune of Lady Lucianna

“Lord Abercorn, may I speak freely?”

He broke eye contact as he smoothed his necktie with a chuckle. “Lady Lucianna, England has known several female monarchs. No matter what the colonists spout, our country is a progressive state. Women have the right to speak of what they wish, just as men, especially with a man who—with luck—will one day be your husband.”

Edith burst into laughter, drawing Abercorn’s attention as if he’d been so absorbed with Luci he’d failed to remember they were not alone.

At Luci’s scowl, Edith clamped her mouth shut and stared at her lap, but her blonde curls bobbed with silent mirth.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Luci said with a grin, luring the duke’s attention back to her. “It is only I wonder why you seek to wed me.”

His expression grew pensive as if even he hadn’t thought about why he desired to court his dead wife’s best friend. Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced at the door once more, but there would be no reprieve from her question.

The door remained solidly shut.

And her question hung openly between them.

“You see, while Tilda and I were very close, we are also exceedingly different people.” Luci couldn’t help but acknowledge the many dissimilarities between them. Tilda was sweet, caring, and compassionate—a true English rose of pure innocence. In contrast, Lucianna was, admittedly, jaded, cynical, and not the least bit demure. Not to mention, Luci’s insistence that he had pushed his new wife to her death. But all Luci could verbalize was, “She was petite with hair of the softest brown and eyes that matched, while I…well, we can all see I am nothing like Tilda with my midnight locks and moss-green eyes.”

It was almost insulting to both women to reduce their differences to the purely physical—meaningless, skin-deep, external attributes.

The duke cleared his throat, the direction of the conversation causing a gleam of perspiration to break out across his forehead. “It is, well, that is a rather difficult question to answer; however, I will endeavor to do my best.” His hand twitched, and he reached out to smooth the fringe on the side of his seat.

“It is not a difficult question at all, Your Grace.” She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back further comment.

“You are quite stunning in a dark, exotic way. Also, well-connected with the grace and poise I seek in my future wife and duchess,” Abercorn declared with a satisfied grin, as if comparing her to a bird trapped in a gilded cage was a future any women would seek out. “You are witty, intelligent, and possess a strong will I admire greatly. We would make a fine match—the marriage-minded mothers will be envious of your ability to catch a duke, as it were.”

Luci swallowed back a smart retort. The man certainly was daft if he thought she would pay any mind to his flowery words.

A fine match, indeed.

She forced an innocent smile, relishing the spark of unease that lit his face.

Chapter 14

Roderick leaned against the three-story townhouse at his back and crossed his arms, keeping his stare on Lucianna through the window. Lady Edith and Lady Ophelia sat close to the arched panes, hardly taking their focus off Roderick and Torrington.

The sun was high overhead, the eaves from Torrington’s family home shielding them from the harsh heat of noonday. He took his eyes off Lucianna perched on the lounge in Abercorn’s home for a brief moment to take in the bright blue sky above. Since their morning sparring match at Bentley’s, not a single rain cloud had dared cross the London landscape—this fact had not escaped his notice.

“We never should have agreed to allow them anywhere near Abercorn without us present.” Torrington sighed heavily, pacing in the shadows of his father’s townhouse. “Anything could happen before we are able to get to them.”

While nervous, Roderick was confident in Lucianna’s ability to care for herself. The blasted woman had bested him with a foil and survived all these years under the control of Camden. She was no demure, fragile creature.

However, Torrington’s lovesick, puppy dog demeanor, fretting over Lady Edith’s decision to accompany Lucianna and Lady Ophelia into the duke’s townhouse was fast growing cumbersome and annoying.

“If it would make you feel better, you are welcome to press your nose to the windowpane, mayhap you will even hear a bit of the conversation,” Roderick jested. “Oh, and you can look upon Lady Edith with your smitten stares of affection.”

He half expected the man to round on him and throw a fist at his face, but instead, he chuckled, breaking the tension that had stiffened his shoulders. “Is it so apparent?”

“Is what so apparent?”

“That I can hardly take my eyes off her for a moment.”

“Only to anyone blessed with sight.” Roderick wanted to reach out and halt the man’s pacing, but instead, he turned back toward the window.

“This is not a normal occurrence for me, I assure you,” Torrington gushed, turning once more. His feet trampled the vegetation as he continued his stalking. “It took nearly losing the bloody woman for me to realize I’d fallen unequivocally in love with her.”

“So you mentioned.” Roderick casually pushed away from the wall, attempting to hide his interest in the direction of their conversation. “What happened?”

The question halted Torrington mid-stride. “Lady Lucianna did not tell you?”