An Unwilling Conquest Part 69

Lucinda smiled back; inwardly, she frowned. After a moment, she asked,

"Do you frequently drive ladies in the Park?"

Harry clicked his reins; the curricle shot through a gap between a swan-necked phateon and another curricle, leaving both the other owners gasping.

"Not recently." Lucinda narrowed her eyes.

"How recently?"

Harry merely shrugged, his gaze fixed on his horses' ears.

Lucinda regarded him closely. When he offered not a Word, she ventured,

"Not since Lady Coleby?"

He looked at her then, his green glance filled with dire warning, his lips a severe line. Then he looked back at his horses. After a moment, he said, his tone exceedingly grudging, "She was Millicent Pane then."

Harry's memory flitted back through the years; "Millicent Lester' was what he'd been thinking then. His lips twisted wrily; he should have noticed that didn't sound right.

He glanced down at the woman beside him, in blue, as usual, her dark hair framing her pale face in soft curls, the whole enchanting picture framed by the rim of her modish bonnet.

"Lucinda Lester' had a certain balance, a certain ring.

His lips curved but, her gaze abstracted, she didn't see. She was, he noted, looking decidedly pensive.

The drive ahead cleared as they left the area favoured by the ton.

Harry reined in and joined the line of carriages waiting to turn back.

"Once more through the gauntlet, then I'll take you home."

Lucinda shot him a puzzled glance but said nothing, straightening and summoning a smile as they headed back into the fray.

This time, heading in the opposite direction, they saw different faces--many, Lucinda noted, looked surprised.

But they were constantly moving; she got no chance to a.n.a.lyse the reactions the sight of them seemed to be provoking. Lady Jersey's reaction, however, needed no a.n.a.lysis.

Her ladys.h.i.+p was in her barouche, languidly draped over the cus.h.i.+ons, when her gimlet gaze fell on Harry's curricle, approaching at a sedate walk. She promptly sat bolt upright.

"Merciful heavens!" she declared, her strident tones dramatic.

"I.

never thought to see the day! "

Harry shot her a malevolent glance but deigned to incline his head.

"I believe you are acquainted with Mrs Babbaeombe?"

"Indeed!" Lady Jersey waved a hand at Lucinda.

"I'll catch up with you next Wednesday, my dear."

Her ladys.h.i.+p's glance promised she would. Lucinda kept her smile gracious but was relieved when they pa.s.sed on.

She slanted a glance at Harry to discover his face set 231 in uncompromising lines. As soon as the traffic thinned, he clicked the reins.

"That was a very short drive," Lucinda murmured as the gates of the Park have in sight.

"Short, perhaps, but quite long enough for our purposes."

The words were clipped, his accents un encouraging Lucinda's inner frown deepened.

"Our purposes'. What, precisely, were they?

She was still wondering when, gowned in hyacinth-blue watered silk, she daseended the stairs that evening, ready for Lady Mickleham's ball. Being in constant expectation of an offer was slowly sapping her patience; there was no doubt in her mind that Harry intended making her another, but the when and the why of his reticence were matters that increasingly worried her. She descended most of the stairs in an abstracted daze, glancing up only as she neared their foot. To have her gaze lock with one of clear green.

Eyes widening, Lucinda blinked.

"What are you doing here?"

Her astonished gaze took in his severely, almost austerely cut evening clothes, black and stark white as always. The gold acorn pin in his cravat winked wickedly.

She watched his lips twist in a wry grimace. "I'm here," Harry informed her, his accents severely restrained, 'to escort you--and Em and Heather--to Lady Mickleham's ball. " He strolled to the end of the stairs and held out a commanding hand. Lucinda looked at it, a light blush staining her cheeks.

She was glad there were no servants about to witness this exchange.

As her fingers, of their own volition, slid into his, she raised her eyes to his face.

"I wasn't aware you considered it necessary to escort us to such affairs."

His features remained impa.s.sive, his eyes hooded, as he drew her down to stand before him.

The door at. the end of the hall swung open; Agatha strode through, Lucinda's evening cloak over her arm.

She checked when she saw Harry, then merely nodded at him, severe as ever but with less hostility than was her wont, and came on. Harry held out a hand; Agatha readily surrendered the cloak, then turned on her heel and retraced her steps.

Lucinda turned; Harry placed the velvet cloak about her shoulders.

Raising her head, she met his gaze in the mirror on the wall. In the corridor above a door opened and shut; Heather's voice drifted down, calling to Em.

If she clung to polite phrases, he would fence and win. Lucinda drew in a quick breath.

"Why?"

For a moment, his gaze remained on hers, then dropped to her throat.

She saw his lips quirk, in smile or grimace she couldn't tell.