CHAPTER TWELVE
“Oh do come and join us,” Miss Scott insisted as she patted the seat next to her. The four debutantes were sitting on the terrace enjoying what appeared to be a large jug of elderberry juice—a good thing, Lucy decided, since she really wasn’t all that fond of lemonade.
“Where are the others?” William asked as he looked about.
“Well,” Lady Hyacinth said, swatting away a determined fly. “Your sister suggested a shooting match, to which Lady Steepleton, Lord Trenton, and your brother all agreed, while Lord Stanton challenged Lord Fairfield to a game of chess, but I’ve no idea about the whereabouts of Lord Galensbury or Lord Reinhardt.”
“I see,” William muttered somewhat tersely.
Lucy hid a smile. Well, he had asked. “What about Lady Ridgewood, Lord Moorland, and the Lindhursts?”
“From what I understand,” Miss Scott remarked, “the Lindhursts decided to explore the library, while Lady Ridgewood and Lord Moorland…Well, I don’t suppose anyone’s seen either of them since breakfast. Not to worry though, I’m sure that wherever they are, they’ll be back in time for luncheon.”
Lucy managed a polite smile. She was happy to discover that her friend was enjoying Lord Moorland’s company, but she also worried that Constance might let something slip—a small detail that could lead to further deduction. Although William now knew the truth, she had no desire for anyone else to discover it just yet. Of course she trusted Constance implicitly, but all the same, Lucy would feel more comfortable if Constance didn’t spend quite so much time with her father-in-law.
“I think I’ll see how Stanton and Fairfield are getting on with their game,” William said. Turning to Lucy, he offered a heartfelt smile. “If you don’t mind, that is.”
Lucy would have been happy to join him. Following their walk together, she felt that they’d finally started getting onto the right track, and she longed to continue with their conversation, which, she hoped, signaled the beginning of a true friendship. However, it was also her duty as hostess to entertain her guests, and, truth be told, she really hadn’t spoken more than a few words with any of the young debutantes since their arrival. “Not at all,” she said, returning William’s smile. “I’ll see you again soon.”
Bowing, William lifted Lucy’s hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon her knuckles. Her heart instantly skipped a beat, while each of the young ladies sighed and tilted their heads as if with longing. “If only I could form an attachment to a gentleman as handsome as Lord Summersby,” Lady Amanda mused as soon as William was out of earshot. “You truly are very lucky.”
“Yes, I do believe I am.” It was impossible for Lucy to contain her smile. She hastily went on to add, “You must agree though that both Lord Fairfield and Lord Stanton are rather striking.”
“Oh, they most assuredly are,” Miss Cleaver hastily agreed as she nodded her head. “And one mustn’t forget Lord Reinhardt. In fact…” She lowered her voice to a low whisper. “When I spoke to him yesterday, I was very much under the impression that, had we not been in the company of others, he might have attempted to kiss me—on the cheek of course.”
“Noooo…” Lady Hyacinth said, sounding quite astonished. “Really?”
“Oh, indeed,” Miss Cleaver assured her in a most serious tone. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been afforded the opportunity to explore the situation any further, though I do hope that one will present itself soon.”
“I’m sure that it will,” Lucy agreed, though she very much doubted that Miss Cleaver was correct in her assessment of the situation. As far as she knew, Reinhardt had very little intention of getting himself attached to anyone, so she couldn’t help but wonder if he might be seeking a dalliance and decided to say, “I do feel that I must caution you, however, for there are gentlemen who have a more rakish personality than most. I’m not saying that this is the case with Lord Reinhardt of course, for I hardly know the man, but I do think that it would be wise of you all to avoid being alone with any singular gentleman at any given time. One never can tell what might happen.” Heavens, she sounded like an old matron giving advice, when in fact she was no older than them. It really was quite absurd.
“That’s very sound advice,” Miss Scott said, reaching for a plate of cookies and offering it to Lady Amanda who in turn passed it on to Lucy. “Naturally, it would never occur to any of us to deliberately seek the private company of a bachelor. It would simply scream ruination. However, one does hear of such things happening, so, by all means, we shall take your advice to heart, Lady Summersby. Shan’t we ladies?”
“Oh, we shall,” Lady Hyacinth exclaimed. “Though I must admit that I personally wouldn’t mind a walk in the garden with Lord Fairfield. There’s a boyish charm to him that I find very enticing.”
“He’s not serious enough for me,” Miss Cleaver remarked. “I’d much rather set my cap for someone like Galensbury or Stanton. Both are exceedingly handsome and with that touch of enigma about them that makes you wonder whether they’re actually listening to what you’re saying or wondering what it might be like to kiss you.”
“Heavens,” uttered Lady Hyacinth. The other ladies gasped a mere second before they all erupted into a fit of giggles.
Lucy, of course, maintained her composure, wondering if she’d ever been as silly as these four women. She didn’t think so, but then again, she’d never put herself on display in the hopes of capturing a gentleman’s attention. Life had been too hard on her for that.
She had to wait another fifteen to twenty minutes or so before an appropriate gap in the conversation allowed her to take her leave. Luncheon was no more than half an hour away, and she’d decided that she wanted to change into another gown first—one that she hoped William would have no cause to take issue with.
Entering her bedroom, she immediately removed her shawl, laying it carefully on the bed before ringing for her maid. Walking across to her full-length mirror, she then regarded her own reflection, turning this way and that, until she’d decided that while her bosom did seem to swell against her bodice, William really had overreacted; it wasn’t nearly as low cut as some of the gowns she’d seen other ladies wear. However, she did want to please him, and if covering herself up a bit was what it would take, then so be it.
She was just about to cross to her wardrobe when something caught her attention; a small, purple box with a gold ribbon wrapped around it was sitting on her vanity table. She stared at it for a moment, then approached, a smile beginning to tug at her lips while her stomach tightened with anticipation. William must have brought the gift for her while she’d been sitting outside. A wave of warmth rushed through her. Surely this was a sign that their time together in the garden had meant as much to him as it had to her.
Picking up the box, she ran her fingers over the smooth surface, her heart quickening its pace as she wondered what it might contain. Her curiosity eventually got the best of her, and she quickly tugged on the ribbon and eased the lid open to gaze inside, only to stiffen, her breath caught in her throat. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she staggered across to the nearest chair and sank down onto it. Burning tears were already pressing against her eyes, and when she tried to calm herself with a deep breath, a shaky sob escaped her lips instead. With trembling fingers, she reached inside the box and gently removed the small, gold, heart pendant that had been her mother’s. It was impossible. It couldn’t be here, for it was the very same one that she’d worn the day she’d died.
Lucy wanted to scream and toss the box across the floor, but it wouldn’t do to draw that kind of attention, not until she figured out what was going on. Instead, she drew a ragged breath and wiped away the tears that threatened to overflow at any moment.
She was just about to set the box aside when she noticed that it wasn’t completely empty. There was something else inside—a piece of neatly folded paper with her name on it. Lucy froze. For a long moment, she simply sat and stared at it, wondering what it might say and too afraid to find out. But, she also knew that she’d have to read it eventually. There was only one person she could think of who could have sent this to her, and if this letter would bring her closer to discovering his identity, she really had no choice but to take courage.
Picking it up, her hands shook as she unfolded the paper, and as she read, it became impossible for her to hold back the tears any longer.
Dear Lady Summersby,
Please accept this small gift as a token of my admiration. You have managed to elude me for much longer than I ever would have imagined possible. However, as you well know, all things must come to an end, even this little chase of ours, as enjoyable as it has been. Naturally, it goes without saying that you must mention no word of this to anyone, for if you do your darling husband shall quickly suffer the same fate as your dear Mama and Papa. To make my point clear, I suggest you consider this before acting rashly: I know you care for him, or you wouldn’t have told him about your past. Oh, I suppose you thought yourself alone when you were dallying in the garden?
Think twice before you try to outwit me, my lady. It would be a foolish endeavor on your part, especially since it has come to my attention that Lady Ridgewood secretly enjoys a glass of brandy in her bedroom before retiring. How unfortunate it would be if one of these days her nightcap fails to agree with her.
Wear this pendant as a sign of your cooperation, and I promise that no harm shall come to either of these people.
With fond memories,
Your masked friend
He’d found her then. But how? Lucy didn’t need to spare much thought on that. Her marriage to William had been discussed at great length among the gentry, from what Constance had told her. Like all society weddings, it had also been announced in the papers, and while she might have changed her family name, she’d not only kept her Christian one but also knew that her appearance—her hair and her eyes—was unusual enough to stand out. All the assassin would have had to do was find an opportunity in which to see her with his own eyes.
A knock on the door sounded, and Lucy practically leapt out of her seat she was so startled. “Come in,” she said, taking a step backward and reaching for a pair of scissors that lay upon her vanity table. She’d last used them for cutting a ribbon that she’d felt was too long but now grabbed the tool in the hope that it might serve as a weapon in case she needed it.
“My lady, I…” Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. It was only her maid Marjory whom she’d called upon to help her change. “Dear me,” Marjory exclaimed, closing the door and hurrying across to her mistress. “You look a fright. What on earth happened?”
“No…nothing,” Lucy stammered, her voice still shaky from the sudden shock of discovering that the man she’d spent six years hoping to find so she could exact her revenge had not only found her instead but was presently residing in her own home. She felt ill at the mere thought of it. “I was just reminiscing about my parents. I lost them both when I was quite young, you see.”