Lady Mays was still admired, of course, but she was no longer a cause célèbre. Her jewels and her gowns did not excite society as they once had. Other, newer, sources of interesting gossip sprang up. Lord Mays became increasingly disgruntled and bored with the task of escorting his wife to various functions.
His lordship had not given up his latest mistress upon his marriage. However, he had almost decided to look for another ladylove because the woman had begun to pall on him. The lady was shrewd enough to read the signs. She had every intention of being able to retire from her present occupation, using Lord Mays’s largesse as the foundation of her fortune. She staked herself to win a carriage race against another lady of dubious virtue and won. Her timely escapade brought to his lordship flattering attentions. Lord Mays received the sly congratulations of his acquaintances with renewed good humor. He decided to keep his mistress a while longer.
His lordship’s wife, who would never do anything outrageous to spur such vulgar interest in herself, had become something of a liability. Lady Mays was perfunctorily banished to her country estate. Her portrait continued to hang in the dining room. The likeness of a beautiful young woman, flat and undemanding, was a polished jewel of the portraiture art. It was a fitting addition to Lord May’s collection.
At the time of Lady Mays’s disappearance from society, there had been mild speculation as to the reason. Some thought that she had lost enough of her looks so that Lord Mays could not bear the sight of her. There was even talk of a horrible accident that had left her hideously scarred. Others opined that she had become unwisely tiresome over his mistress. None would have believed that she was put away simply because she no longer brought to him the envy of his peers.
In any event, word got swiftly round that Lady Mays had returned to London. Aware that she would be the object of interest, Lucinda had taken care to write short notes to old acquaintances, reintroducing herself to them so that their curiosity would be piqued. When the brass knocker was hung on the door of the town house, indicating that the occupants were in residence, callers began to leave their cards.
Most of the ladies came out to see for themselves whether Lady Mays had lost her looks. They were disappointed. It was obvious that Lady Mays had not only retained her beauty, but she had also acquired an assurance that she had lacked as a miss just out of the schoolroom.
There were several oblique references made to Lady Mays regarding her stay away from London. One lady went so far as to voice the majority opinion. “His lordship was a scandalous rake, of course. You must have suffered terribly, my dear Lady Mays. It is a pity that Lord Mays did not honor you as he should have. I am sure I do not know what I would have done in your place.”
Lucinda merely smiled and ignored the latest attempt to fish into her past. “May I freshen your tea, Mrs. Grisham? I find that hot, sweet tea does wonders on a chilly day. I believe you mentioned that your daughter is coming out this Season. How very exciting for you!”
The lady was sufficiently diverted that she did not allude again to Lucinda’s relationship with her late lord. When Mrs. Grisham had at last taken leave of her hostess, Miss Blythe exclaimed, “The effrontery of that woman! I could scarcely contain myself. I wonder that you did not give her a blistering setdown, Lucinda, for it would have been well deserved.”
“I was tempted,” admitted Lucinda. She grimaced. “However, what would I have gained, Tibby? They will talk about me in any event, and I would have set up her back without gaining a thing. No, I think it better simply to present an unassailable civility.”
“I do hope that we have seen the last of the nosy bodies. I cannot conceive that these women do not have something better to do than to pry into what does not concern them,” snapped Miss Blythe.
However much Miss Blythe wished for it, Mrs. Grisham was not the last inquisitive visitor that visited Mays House that first week. It was a trial to Lucinda to be examined in such a rude fashion, but in the end she felt it to have been worth it. All the ladies who called urged upon her several invitations in the upcoming days and weeks. That circumstance alone was of immense satisfaction to her, for it meant that she would shortly be able to realize her purpose in coming to London.
The one invitation that Lucinda most treasured was extended to her by Lady Maria Sefton. Her ladyship was one of the patronesses of Almack’s and had sponsored Lucinda into that exclusive club upon her come-out. Lady Sefton was the kindest of the exalted ladies who arbitrated Almack’s membership, and she was not behind in reacting to Lucinda’s short note.
Lady Sefton was shown into the drawing room and came in with her gloved hand extended. “My dear Lucinda. I hope that I may still call you that?”
Smiling, Lucinda shook hands with her ladyship. “Of course you may, ma’am. I am grateful that you honor me with such condescension.”
“Why should I not? You were a charming girl. I always considered it to be a pity that you were not wed to someone of more sterling character,” said Lady Sefton. She nodded to the lady seated with Lucinda. “I do not believe that I have had the pleasure.”
“My friend and companion, Miss Tibby Blythe,” said Lucinda. “Miss Blythe was governess to me and to my sisters.”
“It is an honor, my lady,” said Miss Blythe.
Lady Sefton nodded. Her gaze was assessing. “You will do very well, Miss Blythe. Some are already spreading tales of the beauteous widow. You grow notorious without cause, Lucinda. However, there will be none who will be able to point the finger of censure at Lady Mays whilst you reside with her, Miss Blythe.”
“I hope not indeed, my lady,” said Miss Blythe quietly.
Lady Sefton nodded again and turned to Lucinda. “I have come to invite you to a small soiree a month hence, my dear, you and Miss Blythe. My credit and approval will do much to aid you in reentering society. I always disapproved of Mays’s treatment of you. It was unfortunate in the extreme that he was that cold sort. Perhaps now that you are at liberty again, you will be able to find a gentleman who is more worthy of you.”
Miss Blythe arched her brows as she glanced at her erstwhile pupil.
Lucinda ignored the interested look. She shook her head, smiling. “I have no thoughts of remarrying, my lady. I have returned to London simply to amuse myself a little. I have been too long away, and I have missed the round of social functions.”
“Well, there is time enough to think of the other,” said Lady Sefton. She rose and held out her hand. “I know that it has been a short visit, but I shall nevertheless leave you now. I will send the invitations for the soiree at once. Miss Blythe, I shall look forward to seeing you again.”
“Thank you, my lady,” said Miss Blythe, overcome by the lady’s kindness in giving notice to her.
Lucinda thanked Lady Sefton and saw her ladyship out.
When she returned to the drawing room, Miss Blythe said, “I thought her ladyship to be an eminently kind and sensible sort.”
“Yes, Lady Sefton was always kind to me. I am glad that she recalled me with such affection,” said Lucinda.
“I took particular note that Lady Sefton assumed you had thought of remarriage,” said Miss Blythe. “It would be wonderful indeed were she to take an interest on your behalf. I have no doubt that her ladyship would make quite a successful match for you, for civility would not allow you to refuse her good offices!”
“No, indeed,” said Lucinda, laughing. “But truly, Tibby, whatever anyone may think to the contrary, I do not at all find the idea of giving my hand away again appealing.”
Miss Blythe returned to her embroidery with a thoughtful air.
Chapter Five
Few of those who called at Mays House were as disinterested or as cordial as Lady Sefton. Lucinda had not had the time during her short come-out to forge any deep friendships. Indeed, it would have been difficult to do so in any event. The jealousy of her peers who had been less blessed in their appearances and the envy of their mothers had crippled all of Lucinda’s efforts to prove herself friendly.
Her brief sojourn as Lord Mays’s hostess had been equally distancing for her. Her exalted position as the wife of one of the richest lords in England had guaranteed that she remain the object of jealousy and envy, and it had served to isolate her from other women who might otherwise have made overtures of friendship.
However, there was one caller who was more than an acquaintance.
Lord Wilfred Mays had succeeded to a title that he had never expected. He was a kindhearted young gentleman of considerably simpler tastes than had been his predecessor. He spoke precisely what was on his mind at any given moment, sometimes to his subsequent embarrassment.
Lucinda had come to regard his lordship with a mild affection, even though they had not come in one another’s way much while her husband had been alive. Since her widowhood, however, a friendship had quickly sprung up between them, and Lord Mays wasted little time in waiting upon her.
Miss Blythe had left the drawing room for a few moments, but upon Lord Mays’s card being sent up to her, Lucinda at once received his lordship. She went to him with both hands outstretched. “Wilfred! This is an unlooked-for pleasure. I had not anticipated that you would call on me so soon, but I am happy that you have.”
Lord Mays bowed over her hands. When he straightened,
he
smiled crookedly at her. “I am glad to have found you
at
home. I was half expecting you to be out already, gadding about the town.”
There was not an ounce of guile in him, nor did he go out of his way to attach her attention. He knew himself to be merely a passable fellow in physical appearance, and he was therefore not burdened with a false vanity. He had thinning sandy hair, and there was a glint of red in his brows and stubby lashes. His gold-brown eyes were his most notable feature, while his expression was unceasingly amiable. His attire was never gaudy and was always of an excellent cut. He carried himself well, being an active pursuer of the manly arts of boxing and fencing. Yet he was not above average height, and so when he smiled at Lucinda, he was looking almost directly into her eyes.
“I shall be in a week or more,” said Lucinda on a laugh. “You can have no notion how many callers I have had, nor what invitations have already come my way. I am persuaded that I shall enjoy the Season very much.”
Lord Mays glanced approvingly at Lucinda’s fashionable day dress with its knots of dark green satin ribbons and the expensive silk shawl that dipped gracefully from her elbows. He had an instinctive eye for what looked well on man or woman. “You look marvelous, Lucinda. I particularly like that shade of rose on you. You appear for all the world to be the most delicate bloom in the garden.”
“You are a flatterer, indeed, sir! But come, sit down beside me and tell me how you come to be here this afternoon,” said Lucinda, drawing him over to a settee.
Lord Mays sat down, casting a disparaging glance about the room as he did so. He put a finger up to the top of his starched white cravat as though it had grown tight, and observed, “I have never liked Mays House. It is not anything in my style.”
Lucinda glanced around. A peculiar smile played about her mouth. “Yes, it is sinfully ostentatious, is it not?” A thought occurred to her. She turned back to Lord Mays and eyed him curiously. “What will you do with it? Do you ever intend to live here?”
“Not as long as I have a choice,” said Lord Mays bluntly. “I prefer my own lodgings, as you know. I suppose one day when I marry I shall be forced to take on the place, though. The ladies all seem to like this sort of house.” The despondent observation roused him to confide, “I’ll tell you one thing, though! I would have my bride get rid of all these objets d’art and knackery. As it is, a fellow can scarcely relax at his ease for fear of breaking some vase or other!”
Lucinda laughed. “I shan’t regard it if you do not. They are all yours, after all!”
“No, they ain’t,” said Lord Mays with devastating accuracy. “They belonged to my cousin, and they all have his stamp on them. Everything my cousin bought was of the same sort— beautiful, expensive, and useless!”
As Lucinda’s expression altered, he realized that he had in an oblique fashion insulted her. Quickly, he said, “I don’t mean you, Lucinda! Of course I don’t. Why, you are the one good thing that my cousin brought into this house. I shouldn’t set foot in it at all if it weren’t for you.”
Lucinda inclined her head with a flickering smile. “You are kind to say so, Wilfred. However, I hope that you will not hesitate to tell me when I am become
de trap.
I should not wish to stand in the way of your taking possession.”
“Have no fear of that. You may call this roof your own as long as you wish.
I
have no desire to live here, but someone must if only to be certain that the place is properly cared for,” said Lord Mays. He grinned at her. “You are doing me a great favor, actually. Otherwise I would have had to continue to pay a caretaker a fortune, probably for years.”
Lucinda laughed, her countenance alight with amusement “I am happy to have spared you that, at least! You make me feel quite helpful, Wilfred.”
“I should think so! It’s a pity that you cannot help me with that sprawling barrack that my cousin called a hunting box. Hunting box!” Lord Mays snorted disparagingly. “I am hoping to sell it. I have my man looking into it now. Did you ever see that old abbey that my cousin filled with precious Greek statues and other such claptrap as that? The gloomy place gave me the shivers, let me tell you. I was never more glad than when old Crowley approached me and offered to buy it from me.”
“Are you divesting yourself of everything, then?” asked Lucinda, fascinated.
“Oh, no. Just those things that don’t please me,” said Lord Mays cheerfully. “You have no notion how busy I have become. It is a plaguey nuisance at times. At least my cousin had excellent taste in horses. I shall keep most of them.”
The door opened and Miss Blythe came in. She looked curiously at the well-dressed visitor, who had automatically risen to his feet upon her entrance. “I am sorry, my dear. I did
not
realize that you had a caller.”