Company Of Rogues: A Shocking Delight Part 18

"Not within a mile, but if we were to do more, we might have to become betrothed. That would deter your suitors completely, but . . ."

". . . be far too high a price to pay." They were dancing around danger.

He took the fan and turned it to cool her. "You could always jilt me when it suited you."

"But a gentleman cannot do that. You would be trapped," she said.

"Are you saying you'd hold me to it?"

"I might hesitate to add more notoriety to my name. I'd think you would feel the same."

He closed the fan and gave it back. "I was born the b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of a wanton and a tavern keeper, and my claim to the earldom is dubious in many people's eyes. How much more notorious could I be?"

She wanted to take him in her arms and hold him.

Before she could give in to temptation, he said, "But I do still have my honor. Given that, we should return to company."

He extended his arm, and she curled her hand around it possessively. Day by day, moment by moment, he was more and more hers, but he wasn't a man to be captured by trickery or force.

As they left the room she asked, "Where are you living?"

"You plan to sneak into my bedroom?"

"I thought to send you a letter."

"Five Millicent Row. It may not be wise to put your desires on paper."

"That rather depends on the desires," she said. "I want to visit an exhibition of household inventions."

"You plan to trade in them?"

She couldn't tell if there was a sting in that. "Perhaps. Machinery and technology are the way of the future, in industry and agriculture."

"Perhaps I'm a Luddite."

"Then know your enemy. You could send a note to Lanchester Street inviting me to visit the exhibition with you."

"You want a lot for your pay, don't you?"

"It was merely a suggestion. I do, however, expect to dance at least one more set with you tonight."

"Don't worry, you mercenary wench, you'll get what you kissed for."

Lucy decided not to challenge the taunt. She had one example of what could happen when she challenged the Earl of Wyvern, and though it had been delicious, it wouldn't be wise to push him too far.

Not yet, at least.

And certainly not here.

Thirteen days still remained, and tomorrow should include more time with him during the day.

Thirteen days and thirteen kisses, with her determining what sort of kisses they would be.

All in all, a perfect contract, as long as he did his part.

"Where do we go tonight?" Lucy asked the next day as she sat in the drawing room with her needlework, waiting for Wyvern's invitation to arrive.

"Lady Galloway's ball," Aunt Mary said. "For her daughter, Lady Iphigenia."

Lucy bit her lips on laughter, but when she caught Clara's eye they both gave way.

"What on earth is the matter?" Aunt Mary demanded.

Clara managed, "Only the name, Mama."

"It's a very pretty name."

"Yes, but in The Peasant Earl, don't you remember? He married Iphigenia!"

"What has that to do with anything? Oh, you refer to Lord Wyvern. It won't come to that. She doesn't bring enough money, and her father would never allow it. Such a tawdry background."

Lucy wanted to protest, particularly as her aunt had recommended him as a suitable husband for herself. But then, she, too, had a tawdry background, in that sense.

The general att.i.tude raised a worrying concern.

Miss Ponting had claimed she'd never marry Wyvern.

Aunt Mary hadn't wanted him for Clara.

Lady Galloway would never consider him for her daughter.

For the first time Lucy wondered if her father might try to forbid the match. He wanted her to marry a lord, but that might not include a disreputable one. He didn't have the legal right to prevent the marriage, but what would she do if he opposed it?

Immediately, thoughts of Gretna Green danced in her mind. No need to emulate her mother that far. She was legally free to marry whom she wished, but she couldn't lightly dismiss her father's opposition. She'd hate to be estranged from him as her mother had been from her father.

No fear of that. She'd be returning to her "rightful world," and why should her father object to a muddled parentage when he didn't know the name of his father or mother? All the same, he might not be rational. . . .

The footman came in with a letter for Miss Potter.

Lucy took it eagerly, but she instantly recognized Betty's handwriting. It had been sent by messenger, not posted.

Some emergency?

My dearest Lucy, Such wonderful news! Father is home! He arrived last night without warning, having outsped the letter he dispatched upon landing in Portsmouth. As all the plans are made, we have set the wedding for Sat.u.r.day, but I will change the date if you cannot come, my dearest friend. If you can come, can you possibly come immediately? I hesitate to call you away from your dizzy delights, but I would dearly love to have you with me in these last few days. Reply posthaste! The messenger will wait.

Your excited and blissfully happy friend, Betty.

"Bad news, dear?" Aunt Mary asked.

Tragic! Lucy was delighted for Betty, but this wrenched her away from Wyvern. Could she take him with her? Impossible.

"Just startling," she said and explained.

"Of course you must go, dear. I'm pleased to see a little romance in your heart. You are not at all like your mother."

"Forgive me, Aunt, but I thought you disapproved of mother's actions."

"Of her marriage, certainly, but not of her warm heart. There is something not quite womanly about a cool heart, my dear, especially in one so young."

Lucy went off to write the reply, fuming. First her father, now her aunt, both implying she was a cold fish. She was tempted to be caught in mad pa.s.sion with Wyvern simply to show them!

She sent off the message and summoned Hannah to pack, but tears threatened. It hardly seemed bearable to be away for days, and she couldn't even write to tell him she was leaving, not when nothing was settled between them.

If his invitation arrived before she left, she could reply. If not, he'd hear soon enough, but that didn't seem adequate. It didn't take long to pack what was needed, and by then Aunt Mary's carriage was ready to carry her home.

There'd been no letter from Wyvern.

As the carriage rolled through Mayfair Lucy looked out, hoping to see him in the street. The beau monde was beginning to emerge for their day, and if she saw him, she could stop the carriage and give him the news.

As the carriage pa.s.sed through Temple Bar into the City, she gave up hope of that.

He would hear the news, but now she wished she'd taken the bold step and written to him.

Chapter 15.

She soon recognized the different rhythm. The sounds were different, and the bustle had a more purposeful nature. She'd left the fairy circle, and perhaps escaped some bedazzlement, for she began to have doubts.

This was her world, completely lost to her if she married a n.o.bleman, especially one whose princ.i.p.al home was so far away. It was one hundred and seventy miles to Wyvern's seat on the Devon coast-she'd sneaked into the library to look it up. At very best speed and with hardly any breaks, the coach journey would take more than a day. Once there, she'd probably rarely return here.

She'd found Crag Wyvern on a map, situated in a thinly populated part of the coast, near two very small villages, one called Church Wyvern, the other Dragon's Cove. The very names seemed ominous.

Both lay far from cities of even moderate size. Axminster, of carpet fame, was only about ten miles, but the roads between looked uncertain. Remote didn't apply only to distance, but to the ease of getting there. It was three hundred miles from London to Scotland, but a coach could travel all the way on the Great North Road, which tolls kept in good repair.

"Is something the matter, miss?" Hannah asked.

"Just the sight of familiar places," Lucy said, blinking to clear her eyes.

If she'd come to her senses, she should be thankful, not grieving.

"Lovely to be home, isn't it?" Hannah said.

"Yes," Lucy said, but they were rolling past Winsom's and she sighed for might-have-beens. If he had been a simple country gentleman, perhaps he might have been willing to move here. She was sure her father would give him a place in the business.

Perhaps she wouldn't return to Aunt Mary's. There was no point to it anymore, and certainly no pleasure. Better to endure the preparations for her father's wedding and return to her plans. Surely if she put it to her father the right way, he would arrange for her to have a place in the business, if even in the background.

Yes, that was it. Not as his heir, but as a kind of partner.

Even so, it was a strain to put on a smile when the carriage stopped in front of her home. She went toward the door, realizing only at the last moment that she hadn't taken a key. She used the knocker for the first time she could remember.

The door was opened by Charlotte Johnson.

"Lucy? Is something the matter?"

Was it Lucy's imagination, or did Mrs. Johnson take a moment to step back and allow admittance?

"Did you not hear?" Lucy asked as she entered, taking off her gloves. "Betty Hanway's father is home and she's to wed in two days."

"Yes, of course. I simply didn't expect you back so soon." Charlotte looked at the luggage the footman was carrying in. "Put it there. Our own man will take it up."

Our own man.

Lucy thanked the footman with a coin and sent him and the carriage back to Aunt Mary's, temper already fraying.

"You're very welcome, of course," Charlotte said. "Your father will be delighted."

Lucy managed some sort of smile. "I'll go straight over to see how I can help."

"I'm sure her family . . ."

Lucy ignored that and left the house.

There probably hadn't been anything amiss about Mrs. Johnson's words or manner, but to welcome her! The woman was already ruling the roost.

She had a true smile in place by the time she entered Betty's house. Her friend raced down the stairs for a wild hug. "Lucy! Now everything's perfect!"

"My goodness, you're in danger of bursting into flame!"

Betty laughed. "I feel like that. So sudden. So exciting. So wonderful!"

Betty's portly father came into the hall. "No sooner am I home than my only daughter hastens to flee it." But he was beaming at them both. "Will I wish you a similar happiness soon, Lucy?"

Lucy smiled, for she was truly delighted to see him home safe. "It's possible, sir, but I've committed myself to no lord as yet."

"And I selfishly hope you don't. I'd wish to see you remain in our orbit, my dear. I'm away to my counting house to see what chaos my absence has achieved. I've a wedding to pay for."

Betty kissed his cheek, then linked arms to take Lucy up to her bedroom, where they'd always talked. "I'm so pleased to see you. I was afraid you'd be able to come only for the wedding day. I've missed you so."

Even so, Betty's mind was full of wedding preparations and the delights to come. Lucy happily relaxed into that, putting all troublesome thoughts aside.