“I just hope that it will all be over soon,” Lucy muttered, her voice tripping a little.
“You still intend to find this man, don’t you?”
“More than ever.” She turned to Constance with renewed determination. “Don’t you see? I’ll never have a moment of peace until he’s brought to justice.”
There was a knock at the door and Marjory entered, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and two cups. She set it down between the two ladies, bobbed a curtsy, and then excused herself.
“And what about William?” Constance asked as she reached for the teapot and began to pour for each of them.
“I spoke to him yesterday as you suggested.”
Constance stilled for a moment while her eyes widened. “Really? What did he say?”
“That he will help me as best he can.” She met Constance’s gaze. “I told him everything.”
“He’s a good man, Lucy. I believe you are right to trust him with this. You’ll see. It will bring the two of you closer.” She smiled as she reached for Lucy’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Lucy took a sip of her tea. How much everything had changed since yesterday afternoon. The concern she’d had about sharing her past with William, with the potential problem of the news spreading, seemed silly compared with the threat she now faced. She couldn’t help but wish she’d told him sooner, for she’d apparently lied to him for no reason. The assassin had found her anyway and was using the very same method of attack that she herself had hoped to apply. Nothing could possibly be more ironic. She grimaced at the thought of it. Her greatest concern right now was that of protecting those nearest and dearest to her. Without thinking, she allowed her hand to drift to the gold heart pendant about her neck.
“That was your mother’s, wasn’t it?” Constance quietly asked.
Lucy blinked. Of course Constance would recognize it. This was not something that she could so easily dismiss. “Yes,” she replied, picking up a sandwich and taking a bite. She needed to keep her hands occupied, or they’d be twisting at the fabric of her dress.
Constance frowned. “I didn’t realize that you had it. In fact, come to think of it, I do believe that this is the first time that I’ve ever seen you wear it.”
“I know, but when I opened my jewelry box yesterday and saw it lying there, it seemed appropriate somehow. I’m not sure that I can really explain it.” It hurt that she couldn’t be honest, but what else could she possibly have said?
Constance’s expression brightened. “Perhaps it’s a sign that you’re beginning to put this whole matter behind you and heal. Your wound is deep, but it does appear as though there’s still a chance for recovery.”
If only it was that simple.
“Maybe,” Lucy agreed, adding a smile for good measure, “but enough about my troubles—let’s talk about you and Lord Moorland instead.”
“Heavens, Lucy! That is not the sort of thing a woman my age discusses.” There was no mistaking the bright pink hue that had settled upon Constance’s cheeks. “We’re merely acquaintances; that is all.”
“Really?” The skepticism behind Lucy’s voice was quite palpable, but, then again, she’d deliberately exaggerated the intonation of her question. “Because for two people who are nothing more than mere acquaintances, you certainly do seem to be disappearing out of sight together quite often.”
“We simply enjoy each other’s company,” Constance said, looking away. “Besides, he’s still not over the loss of his late wife, and, more to the point, I doubt he ever will be enough to consider courting a middle-aged woman like myself.”
“Middle aged? Are you really that old?”
Constance rolled her eyes, upon which they both erupted with laughter. “I was your mother’s best friend after all. We did grow up together, so you surely must have realized by now that I’m a little closer to forty than I care to admit.”
“Well, you don’t look it,” Lucy told her, and it was the truth. As far as she could tell, Constance didn’t look more than thirty at most, and there was no doubt that she must have been the belle of the ball in her day. As it was, she’d captured the heart of the Earl of Ridgewood, a man she claimed to have been the handsomest bachelor in all of England.
Lucy knew that their love for each other had been very real, but unfortunately their marriage had been barren, and then one day the earl had gotten sick. Constance had buried him a year later and never remarried.
“You know,” Lucy cautiously continued after a moment’s silence, “he’ll never get over her, Constance, just like you won’t ever get over your husband. But that’s not to say that he wants to go on with the rest of his life alone. You’ll never be able to take her place, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t space in his heart for you as well. His children are grown now. Your charge has married and gone off to live a new life. I don’t think anyone would protest if you both chose to move on with your own lives and find happiness with each other, if that’s what you wish to do.”
There were tears in Constance’s eyes when Lucy was finished talking. “When did you become so old and wise?” she asked with a chuckle.
Lucy shrugged. “It’s just an observation, that’s all.”
Constance drew a heavy breath. “Well, in this case, I do believe that you are spot on.” Brushing away the tears with the back of her hand, she favored Lucy with a bright smile. “Now, how about if we decide on what to wear for the ball this evening?”
Lucy nodded, warming to the idea, for not only would it serve to distract her from the troubles she faced, but it would also grant her the opportunity she so often craved these days: to impress her husband. For no matter what happened, she knew that his regard for her was of the utmost importance, and if she looked deep enough inside herself, she’d find that it was because he’d captured a larger part of her heart than she’d ever planned to share.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Music rose and fell through the air, blending with the chatter of a hundred people. Having spent well over an hour greeting his guests with Lucy, William had removed himself to the periphery of the ballroom and was now enjoying a glass of Champagne with Andrew, Ryan, and Trenton. “Your wives look splendid this evening,” he said, nodding in Mary and Alexandra’s direction. Both women were having a very animated conversation with his aunt, though he dared not imagine what they might be discussing.
“As does yours,” Trenton replied.
Turning his head, William immediately spotted Lucy and found himself breathless by her beauty for the second time that evening, the first time being when she’d appeared in the parlor a couple of hours earlier as he’d waited to escort her into the ballroom where they’d taken their places by the door in anticipation of their guests.
She was turned slightly away from him now, listening to something that Lady Ridgewood was saying and affording him a moment in which to admire her without detection. Her gown was of the softest green silk, so slippery in appearance that he couldn’t help but envision it falling off her shoulders and pooling on the floor. He drew a tight breath in response to the sudden, unbidden heat that whipped through him.
Instinct told him to march on over there and carry her off right away before anyone else happened to visualize a similar occurrence, for although they were married in name, he had yet to claim her in the most important way of all. Tonight, he decided, he’d make a true attempt at it.
His heart quickened in response to the idea, while his skin began to prickle with sudden anticipation. What if she didn’t want him? Heaven help him, but he’d never felt more inexperienced or awkward before in his life. The task at hand was not one that was new to him, and yet the thought of potential failure gave him pause and filled him with growing concern.
As far as he could tell, they shared a mutual attraction for each other, judging from the way she blushed and smiled whenever he was near. And the kiss…well, there could be no denying the impassioned heat of that moment, and still…the failure of that first night together had made him hesitate more than once.
He watched now as she turned her head toward him. Their eyes met across the distance, and she offered him that stunning smile of hers that he’d come to crave. A moment later, her smile fell away, and he saw that Stanton had approached her. He had no idea what they might be saying to each other, but, whatever it was, he sensed Lucy’s tension as if it were his own. She suddenly nodded, and with a few words directed at Lady Ridgewood, took the arm that Stanton offered her.
William automatically started forward, only to feel a staying hand upon his arm.
“You cannot keep her from dancing with anyone else, you know.” The voice was his brother’s. “Especially not when she’s the hostess.”
“Besides,” Andrew added, “I don’t believe she’ll look too kindly on being coddled.”
William hesitated a moment but eventually chose to remain where he was. They were right of course. He couldn’t charge in and declare his wife off limits to anyone seeking a dance partner—not without causing a scene. “I’m still worried about her,” he offered by way of explanation.
“She does look a lot better than she did earlier in the day, you know. Actually, I dare say she’s made a full recovery from her…ahem…episode,” Trenton said with a bit of a frown.
William had to agree, for Lucy was smiling and chatting as if the incident had never occurred at all, and yet there was something in her eyes that warned him against blindly believing what he saw. He’d worked for the Foreign Office long enough now to recognize an act, although this was definitely one of the best he’d ever seen.
“Oh look,” Andrew remarked, pointing toward the dancers. “It does appear as though Galensbury’s taken pity on Miss Cleaver. I hadn’t thought that she would enjoy dancing at all. She comes across as much too serious.”
“And yet, she certainly seems to have come out of her shell for that reel. Even Galensbury looks as if he’s having a splendid time,” Ryan commented.
“Perhaps we should do our duty then and make a deliberate attempt to entertain the young ladies. After all, William, we do want everyone to have an enjoyable evening, if not for our own sakes then at least for Lucy’s,” Andrew said as he strained his neck and looked around. “Oh look, there’s Lady Hyacinth. I dare say I’ll ask her to join me for the next set.”
William watched his friend disappear into the crowd, feeling more confused than ever. Andrew never danced with anyone, not even his own sisters. What the devil had gotten into everyone today?
“Fairfield’s right, you know,” Trenton said. “It really is quite badly done of us to stand about here in the corner when I’m sure that there are plenty of young ladies who would love to dance. And, if I may add, now that we’re married, we really have nothing to fear from any of them. In fact, it will very likely place us in our wives’ good graces if we shower a desperate wallflower or two with some attention.”