“Well I hope that they arrive soon and remove some of the attention from the rest of us,” Charles said, just as Miss Scott raised her hand and waved at him teasingly. He responded with a scowl that immediately resulted in another burst of laughter from the young women.
“Do try to enjoy yourself, Charles,” William said, though he couldn’t help but sympathize. He knew all too well what it felt like to be hunted; he’d endured it himself for the last few seasons and had consequently grown attuned to which women posed a threat to him, avoiding each of them in the same way he might avoid an enemy in the field. He’d made his plans, certain that he would never be trapped.
Well, so much for that. In the space of half an hour, perhaps even less, Lucy had swooped into his life and claimed him as her own. She might as well have bound and gagged him, for there had been just as little chance of escape. His eyes flittered past Charles again to where she was sitting—laughing now at something his aunt had said. He had an urge to march over there, pick her up, and give her a good shake for all the nuisance she’d brought to his doorstep.
“Easy for you to say, old chap,” Andrew remarked, forcing William’s attention away from Lucy. “You’re already off the market—no need for you to fear the toll of the church bell anymore.”
William grimaced. “They don’t look all that bad…the blonde one for instance, Lady Amanda I believe, she’s very pretty. Perhaps…”
“Not in this lifetime,” Charles ground out. “Those ladies are nothing but trouble—apples from the forbidden tree, so to speak. Extremely tempting, I grant you that, but take one bite and you’ll find your arms cast into irons, your legs shackled, and your back whipped for the remainder of your days. No thank you, I say. I’ll stick to my little opera singer if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Andrew said, raising his glass and clinking it against Charles’s.
William glowered.
“You on the other hand needn’t worry,” Andrew told him hastily. “Lucy’s a winner, just as Charles says. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”
William wasn’t so sure about that, though the discussion had renewed his interest in learning more about the woman who’d so quickly altered the path of both their lives. Still, she had yet to tell him why she’d sought him out in the first place. She wanted something from him, and the more time that passed without her telling him what that something was, the more worried he became.
As much as she tried to feign interest, Lucy was becoming increasingly tired of listening to William’s aunt recount the latest fashion trends. Thankfully, Constance was there to add to the conversation so that all Lucy was required to do was nod her head on occasion and laugh at the appropriate moments. She had no desire to entertain all of these people for the next week, the mere thought of which only added to her impatience to be gone from England altogether. But William had insisted, and having no desire to raise his alarm by being too pushy, she’d managed a smile and agreed.
Since her arrival at Moorland, she’d spent most of her time in the housekeeper’s company. Mrs. Barnes seemed like a good-natured woman and had eagerly helped her become acquainted with the many responsibilities that would now become Lucy’s. Together, they had decided on the menu for the house party, and when Lucy had suggested buying only two cases of Champagne, Mrs. Barnes had diplomatically suggested a much larger quantity, saying, “Better to have too much than too little—especially if you still intend to host that ball you mentioned.”
Hosting a ball for all the neighboring estates had been William’s idea, but now that Lucy had begun planning for it, she had also started to look forward to it with great enthusiasm. Moorland Manor was the sort of home that begged to be filled by a crowd of people, all dressed in their finest evening attire while music sifted through the air. And since this would be her first event as Lady Summersby, she intended to make it a smashing affair.
“Aunt V, Lady Ridgewood.” Lucy’s thoughts faded as she looked up in response to her sister-in-law’s voice. “Would you mind terribly if I stole Lucy away from you for a while?”
The second Lucy’s eyes met Alexandra’s, she knew that she wasn’t just doing her a favor out of the goodness of her heart. She breathed a heavy sigh, hoping that there might be some escape from her sister-in-law, but when Lady Lindhurst replied, she knew she’d been a fool to think herself so lucky.
“Not at all, my dear,” Lady Lindhurst cooed and then looked at Lucy. “We’ll continue our discussion later.”
Lucy could barely manage a yes or thank you before Alexandra had pulled her through an archway to a vacant spot by the window, their position partially concealed by a tall pillar. “I think it’s time you dropped the act,” Alexandra whispered, the smile on her lips a stark contrast to her tone.
“I beg your pardon?” Lucy tried to pull away, but Alexandra’s fingers held her arm tightly in place.
“Look, it’s inconceivable that you married my brother because you love him. None of us had even heard as much as the whisper of your name before you showed up at my house. I dare say that you pulled the wool over all of our eyes that evening when you told us William had invited you to dance. My poor brother was too much of a gentleman to call your bluff, and though I’ve questioned him about it since, he still insists that I’m mistaken in my assumption that the two of you had never laid eyes upon each other before then. I’m not a fool, Lucy—I know you intentionally trapped him, though I cannot begin to understand what your motive might have been for doing so.”
Turning her gaze away from Alexandra’s, Lucy stared out at the torch-lit driveway, the many flames casting an orange haze upon the ground. “I need his help,” she muttered. At least that much was true.
“So you took it upon yourself to condemn him to an unhappy marriage?”
At that, Lucy reeled on her. The woman was out of line and far too blunt for Lucy’s liking. “I didn’t plan for it to be permanent, you know. Indeed, I intended to have the whole thing annulled on the basis of…” She shook her head, abandoning all hope of a decent explanation, for there was none—none that she was prepared to give anyway. “There’s no telling that we won’t be happy together. Besides, he won’t be any less happy with me than he would have been with Lady Annabelle.”
“You don’t know that,” Alexandra hissed. “Lady Annabelle was his choice—a choice you deemed yourself superior to. You had no right!”
As much as she wished it, Lucy could do nothing but agree that she did not. It only compounded her misery.
“I’ve given the matter a lot of thought,” Alexandra continued, “and have managed to reach only one conclusion. Whatever your reasons, it does appear as though you have an alarmingly devious agenda.”
A cold shiver ran down Lucy’s spine, her eyes still fixed on the driveway. She dared not look at Alexandra, dared not so much as utter a single word in response for fear of giving herself away.
“I intend to make it my mission, Lucy, to find out precisely what that agenda entails.”
“Please don’t,” Lucy whispered, but her words were lost to the sound of neighing horses as a carriage pulled up to the front steps. She watched as two masculine figures climbed out, their greatcoats twirling about their legs. A few moments later, the door to the parlor opened and two striking young men appeared, each handsomely dressed in black evening attire.
“I do apologize, Summersby,” one of them was now saying as he happily accepted a glass of Champagne from one of the footmen, “but we were forced to stop in Craften when one of the horses lost its shoe—so sorry.”
“An unforeseeable delay that couldn’t be helped,” William responded as he shook the hand of the other gentleman. He then looked around until his gaze met with Lucy’s. “This way if you please.”
With her jaw still tightly clenched from her altercation with Alexandra, Lucy knew that her smile must have seemed forced as she came forward to greet her newly arrived guests.
“I’d like you to meet Lord Galensbury and Lord Stanton,” William said as he came to stand beside her. His demeanor led her to believe that they were not as close friends of his as Lords Fairfield and Reinhardt but merely acquaintances.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said, to which they each offered her a broad smile.
“The pleasure is entirely ours, I assure you,” Lord Galensbury remarked as he reached for her gloved hand and raised it to his lips. He was the sort of man whom Lucy presumed many women would find attractive, for his face seemed perfect in every way—pretty almost. Lucy had to admit, however, she had a much stronger preference for a man with more rugged features, like her husband.
Straightening, Galensbury met William’s gaze. “I see now why you married her as quickly as you did, you scoundrel. The minute you saw her you must have realized that she’d be available for only a matter of days before some other fellow made her his wife. However, I can’t say I’m overly pleased by how swiftly you snagged her for yourself. From what I hear, nobody but you even managed to so much as dance with her.”
Lucy instantly felt her cheeks grow hot from embarrassment. She’d never enjoyed being the center of attention and liked it even less now in the company of strangers, but when she raised her gaze to gauge William’s reaction she couldn’t help but notice that he was looking at her with something akin to appreciation. Feeling a surge of warmth in her belly, she returned her attention to Lord Galensbury. “You are entirely too kind, my lord,” she replied.
“Oh do tell us that we’ll have the opportunity to dance with you now, Lady Summersby,” Lord Stanton said with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. He was a little taller than Galensbury, though neither man was quite as tall as William. He suddenly smiled, and it was a smile so pleasant and kind that Lucy couldn’t help but imagine that he must have tempted dozens of women with it. “We’ll be terribly disappointed otherwise.”
“I do believe that there are four other ladies present who’d be more than eager for your attention,” William stated jovially yet with a note of possessiveness—something that surprised Lucy, considering how little she’d seen of him since her arrival. She hadn’t thought that he cared for her at all. He lowered his voice before adding, “In fact, I am of the opinion that your arrival will be considered most welcome by Andrew and Charles. They both fear the toll of that infernal church bell.”
“You make it sound like a funeral,” Lucy said, her tiny moment of pleasure at feeling wanted by her husband ripped away. When he made no attempt to rectify his statement but merely stood there staring at her in bewilderment, she forced a smile to the best of her abilities, directing it at Galensbury and Stanton. “It was lovely to meet you both, and I do look forward to getting to know you better during the course of the next few days. Perhaps we shall have that dance after all. Actually, I do believe a waltz would be just the thing. If you’ll please excuse me.” And just like that she walked away, confident that she’d left her husband to seethe a little. Served him right.