“Deny the door to him here at Mays House. Make it known through the strictest confidences to friends that your cousin’s excessive gaming has put him beyond the pale with you. Acknowledge him in public only with the shortest of bows,” said Mr. Weatherby with overriding ruthlessness.
Lucinda dispassionately regarded the gentleman. “It occurs to me that you seem to hold my cousin in some aversion. Have you a motive of your own to accomplish, Mr. Weatherby?”
He allowed the trace of a smile to touch his lips. “You are a sharp-witted young woman, Lady Mays. But in this instance you have quite mistaken the matter. Here is Miss Blythe.” He greeted the older woman with the easy friendliness of one of comparable age and station.
Then Mr. Weatherby turned to Lucinda and carried her hand to his lips. His gray eyes were filled with an amusement that was disturbing to Lucinda. “I shall wait on you one day this week, Lady Mays. But I think that I shall take my leave of you, and the estimable Miss Blythe, for this evening.”
“Very well, sir. I trust that you enjoyed the entertainment that was offered this evening,” said Lucinda politely. She could have cut out her tongue when the amusement in the gentleman’s eyes leaped into open laughter.
“I did indeed, my lady,” said Mr. Weatherby suavely. He bowed to Miss Blythe, exchanging a few cordial words, and then left the ladies.
Lucinda watched Mr. Weatherby’s tall upright figure as he made his leisurely way out of the ballroom. “What a very strange man he is!” she exclaimed.
“Do you think so, my dear? For my part, I think Mr. Weatherby to be a gentleman of exceptional qualities,” said Miss Blythe, still smiling. Turning her head to regard Lucinda with a measure of curiosity, she said briskly, “What is this I have just heard? That you rebuffed Mr. Stassart on the dance floor?”
“Oh, was there anything more vexing!” exclaimed Lucinda. She was at once reminded of her annoyance. “Ferdie had the audacity to play off his abominable tricks while I was standing up with him. You know his dramatic way of expressing himself, Tibby. He said something that I took offense to and instead of simply apologizing and letting it go, my cousin treated me to a Cheltenham tragedy in the midst of the set! I was never more mortified or angered. I fear that I rushed off the floor like the veriest goose. If it had not been for Mr. Weatherby’s timely intervention, I believe that I might have quit the ballroom altogether.”
“I wonder that I did not see any of this. Of course, I have been engaged in conversation nearly the whole evening,” said Miss Blythe. She was dismayed at her own dereliction of duty. “I hold myself entirely responsible for the resulting gossip, Lucinda, for I should have kept a closer watch out for you.”
Lucinda reached out quickly to squeeze her companion’s hand. “Nonsense, Tibby! You are not at fault. I have only myself to blame. I should not have let Ferdie put me in such a flame.”
“Mr. Stassart has obviously behaved very badly. I am surprised in him, I must admit. It is a pity that I cannot call him to book,” said Miss Blythe, her thin lips tightening as her gaze fell on that oblivious gentleman.
“Mr. Weatherby had some rather blunt advice to give me in how to repair my cousin’s unfortunate lapse in good manners,” said Lucinda. “I rather think that I might entertain at least a portion of it. Tibby, give me the benefit of your opinion, I pray.” She proceeded to reveal to Miss Blythe Mr. Weatherby’s advice, ending with, “I rely on you to steer me in the right direction, Tibby. Should I do as Mr. Weatherby has said?”
Miss Blythe was frowning. “There is much merit in Mr. Weatherby’s suggestions. However, I do not believe that you can in all conscience simply cut Mr. Stassart’s acquaintance altogether. That would be thought very odd when he is known to be Sir Thomas’s heir.”
“That is what I thought, too. It seems such an extreme length to go, despite Mr. Weatherby’s contention that Ferdie deliberately set that little scene for the benefit of the gossips,” said Lucinda.
“How is this, Lucinda?” asked Miss Blythe, surprised.
Lucinda shrugged and smiled a little ruefully. “Why, Mr. Weatherby is of the opinion that Ferdie has taken it into his head to make me his wife and, knowing that I would have nothing to do with him, he has chosen to force my hand by holding me up to critics and gossip. Of course I denied that Ferdie could plan a thing so underhanded or, indeed, so dishonorable. Why, it is utterly inconceivable!”
Miss Blythe had listened to Lucinda’s explanation with an increasingly arrested expression. She said at last, very quietly, “My dear. So much is at last explained.” She took hold of her former pupil’s hands in an unexpectedly firm grasp. “My very dear Lucinda, I have the most lowering feeling that Mr. Weatherby could very well be correct. I have thought for some time that Mr. Stassart’s effusive expressions— In short, it is certainly not a suspicion that one would ever wish to entertain, but I am struck with how neatly it explains something that has often puzzled me of late.”
“Tibby! Surely you do not believe that Ferdie desires to take me to wife? And to accomplish it in such a manner. It is preposterous!” exclaimed Lucinda.
Miss Blythe let go of Lucinda’s hands. She shrugged, a perturbed expression on her face. “Mr. Stassart is a gamester and not a very successful one, my dear. Wedding a wealthy young woman has certainly always been one way for a gentleman in deep financial straits to right himself. As for the means employed, you have said yourself that you would never entertain an honorable suit from Mr. Stassart.”
Lucinda’s thoughts had taken a related tack. “Ferdie is not precisely the catch of the Season in the eyes of those with marriageable daughters, is he?” she asked slowly.
“My dear! Emphatically not! I have heard from more than one lady that Mr. Stassart is actively discouraged from hanging out after their daughters. No fond mother wishes her dear daughter to wed a gentleman who is certain to run through every pound that he may put his hand on,” said Miss Blythe. She smiled suddenly, though without amusement. “Unless, of course, the gentleman in question has a very distinguished title.”
“Oh, dear.” Lucinda looked across the ballroom and caught a glimpse of her cousin. Mr. Stassart was doing the pretty over the hand of a simpering matron. His appearance was as usual impeccable, though of an extravagant fashion not to her taste. A thread of pity for him formed within her. “Poor Ferdie. I wonder whether he is quite run off his legs again.” The thought dispersed the unaccustomed pity. She turned to Miss Blythe, exclaiming, “Tibby, he must not apply to my father. I won’t have it.”
“There is little you can do in that direction, Lucinda. But in light of what we suspect, I think you may rest assured, at least for a time, that Mr. Stassart will remain in London. He is, after all, the complete social creature,” said Miss Blythe.
Lucinda chuckled suddenly. “Quite true! Ferdie positively despises the country. He will stay in town until his straits become quite, quite desperate. And if Mr. Weatherby’s assumption proves correct, he will stay as long as he has hopes of pushing me to the altar. I believe—yes, I do believe that I can throw him a crumb or two to encourage him to think that his wiles are bearing fruit.”
“I hope that you are not planning to encourage the creature, Lucinda,” said Miss Blythe sharply, staring at her over the rims of her spectacles.
“Of course not. Nevertheless, Ferdie will feel himself encouraged. It is the nature of the gamester to harbor hope even when all points to the contrary, is it not?”
“Lucinda.” Miss Blythe regarded her with misgiving. “Lucinda, just what exactly do you mean to do?”
“Nothing the least out of the ordinary, I assure you. Ferdie will make up one of the company whenever I hold a function such as this. I will greet him cordially whenever we should meet elsewhere. But at no time shall my cousin be granted a private word, nor shall I expose myself to his sole attentions,” said Lucinda coolly. She flashed a sudden smile at her companion. “Ferdie fancies himself to be an excellent dancer. It is a pity that in future I must confine myself to less expert partners!”
Miss Blythe was reassured. She, too, smiled. “For my part, I shall do all within my power to fend off the gentleman,” she said. “Mr. Stassart will find me to be the strictest and most suspicious of chaperones, I fear. I shall not allow you to receive him unless there is at least one other caller already present. Otherwise, dear Lucinda, I shall insist that he not be allowed to come up.”
Lucinda laughed. “I am trusting you to do just that, Tibby! Oh, dear, how very much Ferdie is going to dislike you!”
“I positively relish the thought, my dear,” Miss Blythe assured her.
Lord Mays came up at that moment. He bowed to the ladies, then smiled at Lucinda. “I have hopes of persuading Miss Blythe into granting her permission for me to solicit your hand for this waltz, my lady.”
“I do not know, my lord. She has just assured me that she means to be ever so much stricter with me,” said Lucinda, also smiling. She turned to her companion. “What is your verdict, Tibby? May I be trusted with this gentleman at least?”
“What do you say, Miss Blythe? I perceive that I am at your complete mercy,” said Lord Mays.
Miss Blythe chuckled. “I have every confidence in you, Lord Mays.”
Lord Mays meekly thanked Miss Blythe for her faith in him before he swept Lucinda off onto the floor. While he whirled Lucinda around to the stately music, he said, “I think that your supper and ball is a pretty success, Lucinda. I have heard nothing but good reports all evening.”
“I am glad, for truthfully I was a bit anxious. I did so want it to go over well,” said Lucinda. She was enjoying being partnered by Lord Mays. He was a very smooth dancer and guided her expertly. His hand on hers and his arm about her waist were warm and reassuring.
“There is no question of that,” said Lord Mays. “What was it you and Miss Blythe were joking about? Is there someone whom she frowns upon?”
“Oh, we were talking about my cousin, Mr. Stassart,” said Lucinda. She was surprised when Lord Mays’s fingers tightened on hers. “Wilfred!”
“Has that fellow overstepped himself, Lucinda?” Lord Mays asked sharply. “I had heard some folderol a few minutes ago that I discounted as so much nonsense, but—”
“Oh, bother! The truth of the matter is that Mr. Stassart overplayed his protestations of cousinly devotion, and it was misunderstood by some who do not know the looseness of the connection between us,” said Lucinda. “I was rather incensed at him for making us the center of vulgar curiosity in such an idiotic fashion, while dear Tibby was positively up in arms over it. I suspect if she could have done so, she would have raked my cousin over the coals in rattling fashion.”
“Rightfully so! The effrontery of the fellow!” Catching sight of Mr. Stassart, Lord Mays’s frown deepened. “Cousin that he is to you or not, Lucinda, I cannot like Stassart. That posturing and those ridiculous airs leave one positively bilious.”
Lucinda laughed, her face clearing. “Pray do not allow yourself to be made ill-tempered by my cousin on my account, Wilfred. I do not regard him and so you should not.”
“Yes, but it is not just you, Lucinda. There is young Thorpe, too. I never would have believed Gerald to be such a gudgeon as to fall into that cardsharp’s clutches,” said Lord Mays, perhaps with a lamentable lack of discretion.
Lucinda looked up in quick dismay. “What do you mean, Wilfred? Has Ferdie lured Lord Thorpe into gaming more than he should? Oh, I would not have that for worlds! Lord and Lady Thorpe are such innocents. They could not even conceive what disaster could befall them if they were ever to become addicted to that sort of life.”
“That’s just the thing, Lucinda,” said Lord Mays, appreciating her excellent grasp of his own concerns. “I feel myself somewhat responsible for Gerald. He was in my regiment at Waterloo, and never was there a better fellow in a tight place. But he is so trusting and ... and ...”
“It would never cross his mind that anyone could take a frightful advantage of him,” said Lucinda as with a sinking feeling she recalled Lady Thorpe’s frank description of her lord.
“That is it precisely!” exclaimed Lord Mays in astonishment. “How did you know?”
“Lady Thorpe let drop something to the purpose,” said Lucinda. “What will you do, Wilfred?”
“I don’t know. I suppose all I can do is try to keep Gerald’s energies turned in a different direction until the Season is over. I have no authority over Gerald anymore. We are friends now, rather than superior officer and subordinate. Otherwise I could drop a close word in his ear and be assured of being attended,” said Lord Mays. “As it is, I don’t wish to push our friendship so far that I trample on his pride.”
“Oh, was there anything more vexatious! I declare that I could happily strangle my cousin,” said Lucinda.
Lord Mays laughed. He whirled her a little closer. “Never mind. I doubt that Mr. Stassart shall need to be dealt with in such a violent way. I daresay the thing shall come off in a satisfactory manner in the end.”
“I, for one, do not intend to spare another thought to my despicable cousin for the remainder of the evening,” said Lucinda breathlessly, becoming aware of how closely his lordship was holding her.
“Then perhaps I may persuade you to give thought instead to bestowing another dance on me, my lady?” asked Lord Mays, his warm eyes glinting.
“My lord! How you do put me to the blush,” said Lucinda. She laughed, saying very cordially, “You may squire me at any time, Lord Mays, for I have discovered you to be an exceptional partner.”
“I shall take you up on that invitation, Lucinda,” said Lord Mays.
She smiled at him. “So I should hope.”
They finished the waltz in fine style to a smattering of admiring applause. Lord Mays returned Lucinda to her chaperone’s side and formally bowed to both ladies. Then he remained beside them for several minutes and engaged in friendly conversation.
Lucinda’s hand was solicited by many other gentlemen during the course of the ball, but she enjoyed nothing so much as she had the waltz with Lord Mays, and later, a quadrille.