Love for Lucinda (16 page)

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Authors: Gayle Buck

Tags: #Regency Romance

BOOK: Love for Lucinda
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Miss Mays looked at Miss Blythe. Then she turned a questioning gaze on her imposing sister-in-law, Lady Mays. Even in her shocked state, she was dumbly aware of where the authority lay.

Lucinda realized that Miss Mays was actually looking to her for her permission. She nodded encouragingly. “Go with Tibby now.”

Still Miss Mays seemed to hesitate. “It is my wish,” said Lucinda gently.

“Come along with me, Miss Mays,” said Miss Blythe quietly.

Then Miss Mays docilely went away with Miss Blythe out of the drawing room.

Lucinda sat back against the cushions of the settee. A frown had gathered her brows. She stared into the fire, watching the yellow flames flicker.

The arrival of her sister-in-law was nothing as she had supposed it would be. For the life of her, she could not imagine that poor, wretched young woman as being able to take the
ton
by storm. She could make Miss Mays the most well-dressed and coiffed young woman in the town, but there was nothing that she could do to transform her sister-in-law’s unfortunate manner.

As cruel and heedless as Lucinda knew society to be, she wondered at the wisdom of even attempting to bring Miss Mays into fashion.

Lucinda got up from the settee to pace back and forth. “She would be eaten alive,” she said aloud, grimly.

Lucinda pinned her hopes on Miss Blythe. Surely if there were any worthwhile suggestions to be put forward, Miss Blythe would do so. Lucinda did not wish to put away her intention of doing what she could for Miss Mays.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

It was almost an hour later when Miss Blythe returned to the drawing room. Upon that lady’s quiet entrance, Lucinda turned. “How is she?”

“She is asleep, poor child. She is burnt to the socket,” said Miss Blythe. “She will be better for a night’s rest.”

“I have never been so filled with compassion, Tibby. That young woman has been brutally browbeaten nearly all of her life and look at what it has made of her,” said Lucinda.

“Quite,” agreed Miss Blythe. For a moment she watched Lucinda’s restless pacing. “What shall you try to do for her?”

“Hopefully, just as I have said. I wish to see that she is restored to her proper place,” said Lucinda.

Lucinda was not really surprised by her companion’s suddenly thoughtful expression. Miss Blythe would naturally have thought of the same sort of reservations that she had herself.

She smiled slightly. “Why are you frowning, Tibby? Do you not agree that I should do all in my power for her?”

“Oh, most emphatically I do. However, I suspect that your object may not be so easily accomplished. As you have so correctly observed, Miss Mays has received in her life little of kindness or consideration,” said Miss Blythe.

Lucinda sighed and nodded. “It is precisely that which has me in a puzzle, Tibby. Not ever having been brought out or encouraged to think of herself, Agnes will be thrown into natural confusion by pretty compliments or a gentleman’s expression of interest. Nor will she know how best to deal with the snobbery that one is likely to meet among certain sets.”

“Of a surety, she will not know how to respond,” agreed Miss Blythe. “However, the problem runs deeper than that, Lucinda. Why, she confided to me abovestairs that she had never before set foot in this house! Her brother’s house, if you please! Can you not imagine what must have been racing through her mind when we brought her into this room?”

“My word. The poor girl must have been utterly overwhelmed when she saw all of this pompous show,” said Lucinda slowly. “And we two attired as we are! It is no wonder that she refused to give up her outer garments or that she burst into tears. She must have felt that at any moment she would be put out as being too unworthy of our company.”

“Precisely. She felt herself quite beneath our touch. I suspect that Miss Mays would have felt more comfortable coming through the back service entrance rather than through the front door,” said Miss Blythe.

She shook her head, her expression saddened. “Such a waste of that young woman’s youth. It will be difficult for her to be thrust suddenly from servitude to privilege.”

“Yes, I begin to understand that. Tibby, I am ashamed that I never inquired after her well-being during the time of my marriage. I knew that she was going to an elderly relation to act as a companion. I wish I had done something,” said Lucinda, frowning in her turn. “But I did not know that my late lord had carried his callousness so far as to completely deny his sister a place in his life.”

“But you did not know,” reminded Miss Blythe gently.

“I should have suspected it, at least. He disliked to have anything about him that he did not admire for its beauty or its expense. Obviously Agnes was neither in his estimation,” said Lucinda.

“You must not blame yourself, my dear. Even if you had known the extent of Miss Mays’s miserable circumstances, I suspect that there would still have been little you could have done. Would Lord Mays have allowed her into his household?” asked Miss Blythe, crossing to her usual chair and sitting down. She pulled out her embroidery from its basket.

“No, I know very well that he would not have. But I could have had her with me at Carbarry. That would have been infinitely better for her, don’t you agree?” Lucinda angrily slapped her palms together. “That aunt of hers! What a fiendish monster to use her so harshly!”

“There is no profit in growing hardhearted over such a one as that, Lucinda. That chapter of Miss Mays’s life is thankfully at an end. It would be better now to think what is best to be done,” said Miss Blythe, placing her stitches with meticulous care.

“You are right as always, Tibby,” said Lucinda, a smile edging back to her lips.

Lucinda watched her companion, knowing from long association that Miss Blythe often covered her most contemplative reflections with the activity in which she was at that moment engaged.

“Very well! What shall we do with Agnes?”

Miss Blythe paused in her handiwork and looked up at Lucinda speculatively. “Why, I had thought to take her in hand a little and take up my governessing mantle again. Should you dislike it very much, my dear?”

“No, of course not. It would be the perfect thing for her!” exclaimed Lucinda. “I wonder that I did not think of it myself.”

“I believe that Miss Mays needs a firm and kind guiding hand until she is able to stand on her own,” explained Miss Blythe, once more plying her needle.

“You do just as you think best, Tibby. You will be the mother that she so desperately needs, whilst I shall be the elder sister,” said Lucinda. “Between us, we must surely do her a world of good.”

“I hope so, indeed,” said Miss Blythe, smiling. “In view of what I believe, I think also that we should go about introducing her slowly to the ways of society. We should not expect her to attend anything too grand or intimidating at the first.”

Lucinda sighed. “You do know what you are saying, do you not? We shall have to treat her as though she is the merest babe out of the schoolroom and she is all of nine-and-twenty! Why, I am the younger by seven years; but I feel infinitely older. How does one manage the life of one’s elder without inevitably giving offense? I can foresee all sorts of complications. The very thought is already making me quake with nervousness.”

Miss Blythe laughed. “I shouldn’t fret too much, Lucinda. Miss Mays is quite used to having someone else order her about.”

“Order her about! Why, that is the last thing I wish to do!” exclaimed Lucinda.

“Nevertheless that must be your role, at least for now. Miss Mays will scarcely know how to receive any other sort of treatment,” said Miss Blythe.

“Better and better!” exclaimed Lucinda.

“I am confident that as we go on, Miss Mays will begin to try her wings a little,” said Miss Blythe reassuringly. “Of course, you will need to be alert to her emerging character and adapt your manner toward her accordingly so that she will be encouraged to express her own wishes.”

Lucinda regarded her companion with some dismay. “Oh, Tibby! I do not know that I am at all suited to this. When I contemplate the responsibility, I positively shudder. I am likely to make some awful blunder and then where will we be?”

Miss Blythe chuckled. “Never mind, my dear. You shall have this chick off your hands before the Season is out, I daresay. Miss Mays is just the sort of shy, retiring young female that most appeals to the chivalry in a male breast.”

“A husband for Agnes.” Lucinda thought about that for a long moment and hopeful vistas opened up to her imagination. She smiled slowly, almost archly. She dropped into a chair with a careless abandon. “Dear Tibby, you may play the matchmaker for Agnes to your heart’s content.”

“Thank you, my dear. I intend to, for I believe it to be in that young female’s best interests to establish her as quickly as possible,” said Miss Blythe composedly.

“You are undoubtedly right again. Agnes is not the sort of female who can ever stand completely on her own. She needs a lord’s strong shoulder to lean on,” said Lucinda musingly, her chin in her hand.

“And naturally you do not,” said Miss Blythe, twinkling over at her.

Lucinda laughed and dropped her hand. “You well know my answer to that, Tibby.”

“Oh yes, so I do,” said Miss Blythe. She wisely left the subject where it lay and adroitly turned the conversation. “I suppose it is too late to meet our engagement?”

Lucinda glanced swiftly at the clock on the mantel. She was astonished at the lateness of the hour. “I had quite forgotten! I sent the carriage back, but I can as easily have it brought around again. If we rush, we may still put in a respectable appearance.”

“Would it not be counted as insufferably rude to arrive so late in the evening?” asked Miss Blythe, also glancing at the clock.

“I am persuaded that Lady Bishop would excuse our tardiness once I had explained the unexpected arrival of my sister-in-law. However, I must admit that I am not at all keen on making such an entrance,” said Lucinda.

“Surely Lady Bishop would accept our excuses just as readily if we did not go at all,” suggested Miss Blythe.

“Oh yes.” Lucinda chuckled suddenly, her eyes dancing. “Are you gently hinting that you should like to forgo her ladyship’s soiree altogether, Tibby? And what of our plans for the opera afterward?”

Miss Blythe also laughed, though somewhat shamefacedly. “Unless you particularly wish to go, Lucinda, I would prefer idling away the remainder of the evening with a good book or my embroidery,” confessed that lady. “As for the opera, it is not at all as entertaining as the theater, I’ve found.”

“I think that we have had enough of dramatics for one evening, actually,” said Lucinda dryly. “I shall send round a note to Lady Bishop expressing our profuse apologies and an explanation of the circumstances. Her ladyship cannot possibly take offense, I am persuaded, for she places a high emphasis on family connections.”

“Thank you, Lucinda. I did not believe you when you warned me that I might become jaded, but in truth I am not nearly so eager to go out every evening as I was,” said Miss Blythe.

“Poor Tibby!” Lucinda laughed. “It will not harm me in the least to remain home at least this one evening, either. Do you know, I cannot recall the last time that I picked up a novel? Certainly not since I left Carbarry!”

“I have an excellent title that you might enjoy,” offered Miss Blythe. “I shall bring it downstairs for you if you would like.”

“Wonderful! Let us call for coffee here in the drawing room, shall we? But first, I want Madison to relieve me of all this finery,” said Lucinda, lifting her silk skirt between her fingers.

Miss Blythe chuckled at Lucinda’s expressive gesture. She neatly snipped her thread and rolled up her piecework. “We do seem to be a trifle overdressed for an evening spent in.”

Agreeing to meet again in a quarter hour, the ladies went upstairs to change out of their elaborate gowns and to put on attire more appropriate to the sort of evening that they now anticipated.

When Lucinda and Miss Blythe reentered the drawing room, the coffee was served to them by the butler. Assuring himself that the ladies had no further needs. Church retired and left Lucinda and Miss Blythe to a contented perusal of their respective books.

An hour later the butler returned to the drawing room. Church apologized for disturbing the ladies. He said that Lord Mays was without in the entry hall, wishing to speak privately to Lady Mays. The butler gave a discreet cough. “And if I may say so, my lady, his lordship seems to be laboring under some agitation.”

“Pray show Lord Mays in at once,” said Lucinda, laying aside her book and rising.

“Shall I withdraw, my dear?” asked Miss Blythe, setting down her own novel.

“No, of course not. I am persuaded that Lord Mays was not thinking of you when he requested privacy, but of anyone else whom we might have been entertaining,” said Lucinda.

“Very well. I own, I am curious,” said Miss Blythe.

“Yes, and I also,” said Lucinda.

The butler showed Lord Mays into the drawing room and closed the door. Lucinda saw that his lordship was attired in a plain coat and buckskins. Her brows contracted, for it was instantly clear that Lord Mays had not been to a formal gathering that evening. That in itself was unusual. “My lord, pray come in. It is only Miss Blythe and myself this evening, as you see.”

Lord Mays’s normally placid expression was anxious. However, despite the weight of the matter pressing on his mind, he did not forget his manners. He formally greeted Lucinda and bowed to Miss Blythe, before saying, “Forgive me for bothering you at such an hour, Lady Mays. But I have come with bad tidings of your cousin, Mr. Stassart. He has been stabbed, by a cutthroat, and he is at this very moment outside in the hackney, bleeding like a stuck pig!”

“Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Miss Blythe, her eyes widening behind her spectacles. “Was it footpads, my lord?”

Lord Mays shook his head. His expression was unhappy. It was obvious that he was reluctant to relate the tale to them.

“Come, Wilfred. You must not hide it from us,” said Lucinda.

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