The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda (17 page)

William nodded as he recalled the drawn look upon her face and her strained smile. She’d seemed worried about something. “You were sitting directly beside her. Did she happen to say anything out of the ordinary or respond to something somebody else might have said in an unusual fashion?”

Ryan frowned. “Not exactly, but…”

“When Reinhardt addressed her, complimenting her on the pendant she was wearing, she seemed to lose her composure a little,” Bryce said, cutting straight to the chase.

Charles again…

William had of course noticed the gold heart pendant that Lucy had worn but hadn’t commented on it. She’d worn it again today, he realized, and he suddenly wondered why he’d never noticed it before. She must have worn it for the first time yesterday, but why would discussing it with anyone make her ill at ease? It didn’t seem to make any sense.

“What about, Lady Ridgewood, Papa? Has she said anything that might give us a better understanding of Lucy’s peculiar behavior?”

Alexandra gaped at William. “You’ve asked Papa to entertain Lady Ridgewood with the purpose of garnering information?”

“And you’ve agreed?” Ryan asked, sounding equally appalled.

“As it is,” Bryce said, “I happen to respect the woman a great deal, and I also enjoy her company.”

“You’re using her with the express hope that she will betray her charge!” Alexandra shot out of her chair and began to pace, anger flashing in her eyes. “She’s a lovely woman, Papa. She does not deserve this, and neither does Lucy.”

“Two days ago you didn’t even like Lucy,” William said, offering her a hopeful smile that was not returned. “I’m happy to see that you’ve changed your mind.”

Alexandra served him a scowl and then turned on her father. “Don’t do this,” she said, “for if you keep it up and Lady Ridgewood discovers your true intent, I dare say she won’t like you as much as you like her. In fact, she’ll probably never speak to you again.”

Bryce frowned, picked up his glass, and took a long gulp. “Giving your old papa advice on how to treat the ladies?”

Rolling her eyes in frustration, Alexandra flopped back down onto her chair and expelled a deep breath. “No, just trying to keep
you
out of trouble for a change.”

Bryce chuckled. “I appreciate that, my dear, but there are times when we must put other people’s best interests before our own, and in this case, it is my belief that finding out what we can about Lucy may be the best way for us to protect her against whatever it is that she’s so terrified of. And I am willing to sacrifice Lady Ridgewood’s good graces for such a cause.”

William steeled himself. He already knew what it was that frightened her—the masked assassin that she hoped to find with his help in Constantinople, the very same man who haunted her dreams at night.

W
rapped in her cream-colored, silk dressing gown, Lucy stared out of her bedroom window at the garden below, berating herself for allowing fear to take control. Somebody was likely to get hurt as a consequence. She closed her eyes against the bright and colorful scenery outside, knowing that she’d never forgive herself if that were to happen. Whatever it was the assassin had in mind, she hoped he’d act soon and cease this game of his.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Lucy out of her bleak reverie. Heaven help her, she’d never been this jumpy before in her life. “Who is it?” she called out, making a firm attempt at keeping her voice level.

“It’s me, Constance,” her friend’s voice replied.

With a sigh of relief, Lucy crossed the floor, unlocked her bedroom door, and pulled it open, allowing Constance to enter. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you right now.”

“Yes, it does seem as though we have a great deal to discuss,” Constance said as she gave her a warm smile. “I brought these for you, and I’ve asked your maid to bring up some tea.”

“Thank you.” Realizing how hungry she actually was, Lucy gratefully accepted the plate of cucumber sandwiches that was being offered to her. She then gestured toward one of the armchairs in the corner. “Come, let’s sit.”

“So, I understand that there was a bit of an incident during your ride earlier,” Constance remarked as soon as they were both comfortably seated. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

Of course she did, but she couldn’t; the risk was too great. So instead, she settled for the same tale that she’d spun for William’s benefit. “You know that I don’t react well to knives, Constance, and while I realize now that Lord Reinhardt was no threat to me, the sight of him drawing that blade sent me into a panic. I was alone with him after all, and it terrified me.” She shook her head in a self-deprecating manner. “William must think I’m such a fool. I acted like a complete madwoman, going so far as to hit Lord Reinhardt for heaven’s sake. It’s deplorable!”

Reaching for Lucy’s hand, Constance gave it a tight squeeze. “Nobody thinks ill of you, Lucy—not as far as I can tell. But, we are worried. This isn’t normal behavior.” She stared long and hard at her before asking, “Is there something that you’re not telling me?”

Swallowing hard, Lucy shook her head definitively. “No.”

Constance did not look convinced. “What about your nightmares? Are you still suffering from them?”

“Yes,” Lucy managed to say, adding a weak nod. “Yes, they still plague me most nights.”

“Oh, Dearheart,” Constance murmured, “nobody should have to suffer like this. There’s so much pain and anguish in your eyes, Lucy. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

“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.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

M
usic 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.