“Hardly the sort of jewelry a woman of lowly birth would have in her possession,” Andrew remarked.
“I suppose not,” William concurred, “but maybe she stole it from somebody. You did say that your mother had one just like it, did you not?”
Charles merely frowned as he took a sip of his own brandy.
“Come now, Summersby,” Galensbury said, aiming for a lighthearted tone, which quickly died when he met William’s stare. “Lady Ridgewood was her guardian until the two of you married, after all, and she’s a highly respectable lady. You cannot think that she would have taken in such a child, much less have allowed her to marry an unsuspecting earl.”
“Perhaps not,” William muttered. “I don’t know what to think anymore, but I do know that she cannot be trusted.”
“And I thought my relationship with your sister got off to a rocky start,” Trenton muttered.
“I take it your picnic did not go so well then?” Ryan offered.
William gave him a scowl. “What do you think?”
“And she’s given you no explanation for her elusiveness?” Charles asked.
“None.”
“Well, perhaps she’ll come around, William,” Andrew said, his voice a little gruff. “We all know that the goings on in a woman’s head can be difficult for any man to comprehend. But Lucy’s not stupid by any means, so whatever it is you think she’s keeping from you, I’m sure she has good reason.”
“I hope you’re not defending her,” William growled.
“I certainly am. I tend to judge people based on my own experiences with them, William, and your wife has been nothing but pleasant and hospitable toward me. If anything, she’s suffered your reproachful stares with the grace of a true lady, but just when it seemed that the two of you had put your differences behind you, you—”
“She forced my hand, Andrew.” William’s voice had dropped to a dangerous tone.
“Be grateful that she did,” his friend remarked with startling fierceness for a man who was generally all smiles. “For if she hadn’t, you’d now be married to that wet towel Lady Annabelle.”
“He’s right, you know,” Ryan said. “Lucy does seem like a better match.”
“And as far as I can tell from observation alone,” Andrew added, “she seems frightened more than anything else.”
William glanced around at the rest of his friends, all nodding their agreement with Andrew. It was impossible for him to say which of them was guilty of murder, for whoever it was, he was concealing his true nature exceedingly well. William had hoped that this little pretense of his would offer him a small glimpse of the man he sought, but it had not. That aside, it was still necessary for him to convince his friends that he and Lucy were drifting apart and that she’d revealed nothing. For now, until they put their plan in motion, it was the only thing that he could think of to keep her safe.
“Of course she’s bloody frightened. She’s undoubtedly terrified that I’m going to discover whatever it is she’s so bent on concealing from me.” With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet and made for the door. “Think what you will,” he told them, “but I’ve had enough of her games, and as soon as this house party is over, I’m heading back to London without her. My devious wife can go to the devil for all I care.”
Dinner that evening was by no means a pleasant affair. William was all doom and gloom, and whenever anyone asked him a question or attempted to engage him in conversation, his responses were terse.
“Is Lady Summersby still unwell?” Miss Scott suddenly asked, nodding toward Lucy’s vacant seat.
“She seemed all right last night at the ball,” Lady Amanda pointed out in her usual quiet voice.
William frowned and the young woman instantly returned her attention to her plate. “She’s had a relapse.” Silence followed while knives and forks scraped loudly against the plates. Picking up his glass of wine, William glanced around at his guests and expelled a deep sigh. “Forgive me. I’m being a terrible host.”
“We completely understand,” Miss Cleaver remarked. “Considering your wife’s ailment, it’s only natural for you to be worried about her. But at least you have your brother and Lady Steepleton to turn to for help. I assume they’ve seen to her?”
“I did indeed visit with Lady Summersby right before dinner,” Mary said from the other end of the table. “She’s much better now and resting.”
“What a relief,” Andrew said, glaring across at William. “Perhaps we may have the pleasure of her company again tomorrow then.”
“I believe so,” Mary said.
“And from what I gather,” William remarked with as much indifference as he could muster while he took a sip of his wine, “she insists on going ahead with the scavenger hunt she had planned, which I dare say will entertain you all to no end.”
The four young debutantes immediately squealed with delight and clapped their hands together, which was of course to be expected. Regarding his friends, he couldn’t help an inward smile at the sight of their morose expressions.
“I hope we’re not all expected to participate,” Charles said with a frown.
“I can’t say,” William replied, adding just a touch of sarcasm to his words, “but considering how persuasive my wife can be when she sets her mind to something, I do believe you’ll have a hard time refusing her if she insists.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lucy woke the following morning to gray clouds hanging heavily in the darkened sky overhead. With her face still snug against her fluffy pillow, she turned onto her back and reached across for William, only to find an empty space; he’d apparently already risen. Stretching her arms before sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she reflected on the day that lay ahead—of its importance.
She’d remained in her room the previous evening with the door lock firmly in place, but William had joined her as soon as he’d finished his dinner and had told her about the conversation he’d had with his friends. Hopefully his display of anger and mistrust for her would put the assassin at ease enough for them to carry out their plan undeterred.
Pulling the curtains aside, she stared out at the dreary scenery of the garden below. The bright colors of the previous days had faded to tones of gray. With a heavy sigh, she reached for the pendant about her neck and enfolded it in her fingers. She then closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. Today she would find him, face him, and move on with her life. She would be free from his torment, and she would finally find peace—or so she hoped.
A knock sounded, and Lucy blinked. Stepping toward the door, she quietly asked whom it was before admitting her maid.
Together they picked out one of her long-sleeved day dresses—a cream-colored creation, dotted by a pattern of tiny rose buds, and with a square neckline trimmed with a thin piece of lace. It was simple but pretty, and according to Lucy’s own opinion, suited her quite well.
By the time she made her way downstairs for breakfast, the clouds had ruptured, giving way to a steady downpour that, while being good for the garden, meant that the scavenger hunt she had planned would have to be limited to the house alone.
Reaching the door to the dining room, she stopped momentarily and drew a deep breath. Her stomach had begun to twist and turn into a tight knot, while her heart, which had been perfectly calm only a second ago, was now fluttering quite erratically. Somehow, she had to overcome this bout of nervousness. She had to face her guests without looking like a scared little girl whose only desire was to run away and hide. No, she was strong, she reminded herself, and she’d been through a lot already. Today she would have William by her side, and together they would get through this.
With renewed determination, she stepped inside the dining room and attempted a smile. “Good morning,” she said, addressing those present—a cheerful assembly that comprised all the women (with the exception of Constance) and Lord Fairfield, who added a touch of male presence from behind his crackling newspaper.
Lady Lindhurst shot her a smile. “Good morning, Lucy. You look well rested and so much better. Indeed, there’s a touch of color to your cheeks today. It suits you.”
Lucy thanked the viscountess as she took the empty seat beside her and waited for the attending maid to bring her a cup of tea. “As your hostess, it just won’t do for me to remain in bed, especially not when I have such a splendid activity planned for you all today.”
“William mentioned something last night about a scavenger hunt,” Alexandra said from across the table as she buttered a piece of bread. Looking up, she offered Lucy a thoughtful stare. “Seems like a good choice with the weather being as dismal as it is.”
“I love those!” Lady Amanda remarked with more enthusiasm than Lucy would have expected from a woman so shy. She was sitting quite secluded at the far end of the table with a couple of seats placed between herself and the next person and seemed instantly flustered as everyone turned to face her, for she stirred her tea with increasing rapidity, as if the motion would create a whirlpool large enough to swallow her up.
When she unexpectedly continued to speak, she did so with a timid voice and without raising her gaze from the movement of her spoon. “I enjoyed a very lovely scavenger hunt during the Christmas holidays when my family and I were invited to attend a house party at the Earl of Birdbrook’s estate. It was such fun.”
“It’s always been my understanding,” Lord Fairfield remarked from behind his newspaper, “that these sorts of things are especially designed as an excuse for couples to sneak off and steal kisses with one another in hidden corners.”
A gasp arose from all the debutantes, while Miss Scott underlined their shared astonishment with an “Oh my!”
Lucy, on the other hand, felt her cheeks grow hot as she recalled having done that very thing with her husband in the garden, not to mention so much more by the lake only yesterday. She took a bite of her bread to mask her discomposure before saying, “Then it is fortunate that our scavenger hunt shall take place during the day when there are few dark corners to be found.”
Alexandra chuckled, and Lucy looked across at her to find her eyes bubbling with mirth. “A private room would serve just as nicely, you know.”
“Alexandra, that is quite enough,” Lady Lindhurst remarked, her eyebrows arching in a rather intimidating fashion. “You will not put any unsavory ideas into these young ladies’ heads.”
“My apologies,” Alexandra said as she trained her features into something of a more serious nature. She then turned her attention to the debutantes, who seemed to be following the whole exchange with very keen interest. “No sneaking off to steal kisses in private rooms or corners—understood?”
They all nodded.
Lady Lindhurst gave an exasperated sigh. “You couldn’t possibly have bated them any better than you just did, Alexandra.”