Page 25 of Her Summer Duke

Lucy pulled at her nightcap.

“What? At this hour?”

The voice on the other side of the chamber door answered swiftly.

“As she requested - in answer to her letter.”

Lucy turned and stared at Margaret.

“Her letter? Lady Margaret, now whatever have you done?”

“Open the door, Lucy. I dare say I cannot wait one second longer for the answer.”

Lucy opened the door and took the letter, closing the door quickly, then turned with her hands on her hips.

“Are you going to explain to me what is happening here? Why are you and Lady Phoebe both so blue devilled?

Lady Phoebe sniffed and then nodded her head.

“You see, I took my horse and rode here, as I could not sleep due my distress.”

“Distress?”

“Yes. I am betrothed to Lord Montpelier and we have set our wedding date.”

She sniffed to hold back another sob.

Lucy shook her head.

“I am very confused. Is that not a good thing? You are to be married to a very fine gentleman.”

“A corpse. I tell you he is a walking corpse!”

Phoebe withdrew her handkerchief again and began to sob into it.

“What? Lady Margaret, what is she saying? Has Lord Montpelier died?”

Margaret shook her head. “No, he is quite alive and for Lady Phoebe that is the issue. She feels that, well, he is not as… warm… as a living man should be…”

“I do not want to marry him. His hands are as cold as ice. I cannot marry him; I will not marry him.”

Lucy smiled.

“Now, now, Lady Phoebe, it is not as bad as you are making it to be. Lord Montpelier is a good man. Has he injured you in any manner?”

“No.”

“Ah. Has he offended you with his words?”

“No.”

“Hands can be warmed by gloves, Lady Phoebe. If that is his only fault, then I would say that he will make a good husband.”

“But they are like ice. When he touches my hand, it is as if he freezes my heart.”

The maid clicked her tongue.

“Tch, tch. Well, you must get beyond this, Lady Phoebe.”