Loving Lucy (3 page)

Lucy smiled a little wider. She let him wait for a moment before replying, savouring the anxious expression on his face. She had her speech, too. “I’m deeply flattered by your offer, sir. And believe me, I’m not insensible to your attractions, but I cannot -
yet
- accept your offer.” She watched his look of expectancy change to something that looked like disappointment. “My Mama has not yet completed the enquiries she considers necessary, but she begs to inform you that they never take long.”

His voice took on an edge she hadn’t heard there before. “Enquiries?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’m sorry, but you see, with my prospects I’ve had rather a lot of fortune hunters trying to take me in. Of course, we know you’re not of that stamp, sir, but my Mama will feel safer when she has all the documents in her hands.”

He looked at her gravely for a long moment. “I see.” He reached over and took both her hands in his. “I can only commend her thoroughness, and since I, too, wish for your future happiness, I can hardly complain.” A note of passion entered his voice. “But Lucy, I love you so, it’s hard to think of any impediment.”

Lucy blushed prettily, and cast her look down at her green striped gown. His heated admiration was making her blush. “Lucy, look at me.” Shyly she looked up at him, and slowly, he put his arms around her and drew her to him. “You’re all I want. No other woman will do.” He tilted her chin up, looked at her closely for a rich moment and kissed her.

Lucy enjoyed the kiss, thorough without being too rough. She disliked being kissed roughly, but could count the number of adult kisses she had allowed on the fingers of one hand. She let him kiss her again before she drew away. Looking up at his face, into those dark brown eyes Lucy smiled, deliberately giving him her most coquettish expression. She rather thought she would have him, after all. “And you would wait for some stuffy papers?” he asked softly.

Lucy let her hand rest in his. “Mama insists. It is always so - the moment a gentleman takes more than an ordinary interest in me she sets her agent to work.”

“Who does she use?”

“Oh a Mr. Chumleigh, in the City - he does quite a lot of this kind of work. And he’s one of my trustees – in a minor capacity of course. He must have any number of papers about people.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “Indeed - a blackmailer’s dream, in fact.” He smiled again. “But I have nothing to fear from him. So Lucy
 
- if these enquiries turn out right, as I’m sure they will, have I your permission to pay my addresses to you?”

“It seems you’re doing that already,” she gave him her best enchanting smile.

He would have drawn her back to him, but she resisted, and he didn’t pursue it. “I really don’t think I can wait very long. Do you know how long it will take?”

She studied him, deciding that he would be an asset to her, but not entirely persuaded. “Not long, Mama says.”

“You have stolen my heart,” he declared. “I want to make you mine as soon as I may.”

She tried very hard not to show how much his words thrilled her. “You must tell no one yet, for I can’t formally consent without Mama’s approval.”

“Is your Mama then, your guardian?”

She looked up at him, consideringly. “Only of my person. I don’t come into my fortune until I reach five and twenty, or I marry. In his speculations, Papa became acquainted with any number of City gentlemen, and so he chose Mr. Chumleigh to help me manage my affairs. My Mama has a considerable allowance, and she administers both mine and hers very ably. Of course, she needs the authority of a man to allow her signature, but she is just as capable as anyone but there it is. Mama would never have the city folk to dinner, they wouldn’t be comfortable, she said, but, despite her best advice, Papa left the administration of my fortune to Mr. Chumleigh and the rest of the trustees.”

Did she imagine the note of bitterness in his voice? Surely not. “A great shame your Papa didn’t trust your mother more fully. It was wise of your Mama not to mix the two worlds.”

“I never quite understood why.” It had seemed foolish to her. Mr. Chumleigh had always been the perfect gentleman, and he’d been quite thick with her Papa. When he was alive, Mr. Chumleigh had visited them far more often.

Sir Geoffrey smiled indulgently. “Because, my dear, we don’t mix well. They don’t know how to go on, as a rule. Such a shame your cousin decided to marry a Cit.” he continued meditatively. “And now the son is Lord Royston he’s received everywhere, but it can’t be seen as a desirable thing.”

She thought it over. He must be right, his opinions agreed with her Mama’s and all her Mama’s friends. “I see,” she said, but she still had her doubts.

He smiled, and drew her to him again. “Haven’t we got more pleasurable things to think about?”

Lucy enjoyed his kisses, but when he moved his hand to her breast, and began to caress it through her gown, she wasn’t sure about that. She must have stiffened, given him some sign, for after a moment, he desisted, and his hand fell to her waist once more. She drew back at once.

He stared at her, yearning in his eyes. “Lucy forgive me, but ever since I first saw you, you have had my heart. I want to call you mine. You won’t accept my offer, even informally?”

Lucy was a good girl. “No, sir. But I would be delighted to receive your proposal again, in a little while.”

He sat still and held her hands for a few moments, gazing at her face until she was forced to draw away. “Enchanting. I shall see you then, my dearest heart, in a little while.”

“Oh before then. I shall be at the opera tomorrow night, and Lady Darley’s on the night after that.”

“But I shall not have the felicity of knowing you as mine just yet and I don’t think I can bear to see you with your other admirers until then. No, my sweet, I’ll keep to men’s pastimes for a time, come back to you as soon as I may. The boxing saloon and the club for me.”

She was touched by his declaration, and felt considerable warmth from his words. He left her shortly after that, and finding Lady Royston alone, drew her aside for a brief conference.

When Lucy reported the gist of her interview with her suitor to her mother, that lady nodded her approval. “Very proper,” Lady Royston concluded. “Though one kiss would have been sufficient, my love. I shall tell you as soon as you may accept him.”

“For my part,” Aunt Honoria put in, “I think he’s a fine gentleman. He will be very good to you, Lucy my dear, I’m sure. He has always been most considerate to me, and that I cannot say of all of your suitors.”

Chapter Three

“I can’t bear it.” Philip Moore cried. He slammed his fist against the marble mantelpiece.

Edward Wenlock winced in sympathy. “Careful, old boy. You’ve only just come into all this, you don’t want to destroy it yet.” He swept his hand around, indicating the fine salon, the expensive furnishings.

“What do I care?” Philip demanded. “I’m replacing it all in any case.”

Edward Wenlock put up his quizzing glass. “Why on earth do you want to do that?”

Philip cast a glance around the room, an expression of exquisite distaste crossing his face and curling his lip. “Too grandiose. Not my style at all. It’s all going, Edward. If you want any of it, speak up, or it will be sold on.”

Lord Wenlock looked around him at the pink upholstered gilt chairs, and the extravagant mouldings. “Not the style for bachelor lodgings.”

“Quite.” More in control now, Philip went over to one of the offending chairs and sat down. He stretched his long legs before him and considered the polish on one of his Hessians. “The man makes me sick.” He wasn’t talking about any interior designer.

Lord Wenlock showed no surprise. “He was a bully at school, but couldn’t he have improved since then?”

Philip’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Not that I’ve seen. Once he started sniffing around Lucy, I made some enquiries.”

Lord Wenlock lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “You’ve been busy. What kind of enquiries?”

“Not his finances, Lucy’s mother seems to be taking care of that, though I have requested a report. I have some control; I’m not one of her trustees, as her father wanted to leave the way clear for a marriage between Lucy and Bernard, or failing that, me.” He glanced away. “However, I am head of the family, and I’ll use that particular card as much as I can.”

“So who have you been asking?”

Philip swallowed and leaned forward in his chair, elegance forgotten. “until last month Sanders visited a certain house in
Covent Garden
regularly.”

Wenlock shrugged. “So do a lot of people.”

“It was the house on the corner. The House of Correction.”

“Oh Lord.” The House of Correction specialised in acts of violence. Only a man wishing this kind of entertainment would venture there.

“They threw him out. He hurt one of the girls badly. I’d heard that he went there, and I went to find out. The place made me sick.” Philip looked as though he meant that literally, his mouth clamped tight shut against the nausea for a moment. “The madam unburdened her conscience remarkably easily. It seems that Sanders has outrun his credit, and caused too much damage to her girls to be welcome back.”

Wenlock frowned. “Outrun his credit? That doesn’t sound like the actions of a wealthy man. He would want to settle that kind of debt, keep the madam sweet, especially if he had hopes of marriage.”

Philip looked up, an arrested expression on his face. “I never thought of that. The idea of Lucy being subjected to that kind of treatment took all my concern. Perhaps I should go to see Chumleigh after all.”

“Do you really think he would do that to a lady?”

Philip got to his feet and moved to the window, gazing sightlessly down on the street below. “I think he might. He’s notorious, even in the brothels. I don’t think he’s interested in loving a woman, merely dominating her.”

There was a pause, in which the sounds of the traffic outside filtered up to them. Even in this fashionable square, it was never still. Horses, carriages and fashionable strollers mingled with street sellers and pickpockets, in democratic confusion. Philip watched them, and thought. He heard his friend, in the quiet room behind him say, “Since her father’s death Lucy and her mother have wanted nothing to do with you. How can you hope to influence them?”

Philip turned back to him. “I wouldn’t be doing their duty if I didn’t try.” He spread his hands on the broad sill, leaning against it. “I have to stop this if I can. Lady Royston seems set on it. She made a point of introducing them, and in the summer she attended the same house party as he was at. She changed her plans to do so. I don’t know why, when she has refused or made Lucy refuse so many eligible suitors she should be determined on him. Perhaps he has charmed her.”

“It would hurt you whoever she married,” Lord Wenlock pointed out.

Stillness pervaded the room. Philip lowered his head. “I gave that idea up long ago,” he said, voice quiet.

“you still love her?”

“I always will.” The simple words were more moving than any florid confession. “She isn’t for me, Ned, she’ll never be for me, but I don’t want her throwing herself away. I want her to be happy. So far, her suitors have been impeccable, but none have taken her fancy. She is taken by Sanders. I only hope it’s a passing fancy, that’s all. If not, I’ll have to find a way to tell her.”

“It’ll be difficult. Her mother keeps her close.”

Philip sank his chin on to his chest. “I know.”

Lucy went round in a warm glow, but she didn’t see her admirer. True to his word, he kept to masculine pursuits, and their paths didn’t cross. Lucy was a little annoyed, but her mother thought it was just as it ought to be. “I told him he mustn’t count on anything until our enquiries have concluded, but it seems he’s so much in love he can’t help himself.”

“Did he say that?” Lucy blushed.

“Yes,” Lady Royston replied. “I told him I would send for him as soon as I could to tell him the results of the enquiries. Where are you going?”

Lucy pulled on her gloves and picked up her hat, stopping before the mirror to tie the ribbons becomingly under her chin. “Just shopping, Mama. I’m taking Curtis, and a footman, so you need not worry.”

Her mother smiled and stood to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “I don’t worry, my dear. You are, in general, a very good girl. Would you run an errand for me while you are out?”

“Of course,” replied her dutiful daughter.

“Bespeak a dozen pairs of my usual outdoor gloves from Backstocks’. I’m down to my last two pairs, but I only noticed this morning. They’ll send them round here, there’s no need to collect them.”

“Yes Mama.” The errand would take her well out of her way, but she didn’t really object to the inconvenience.

“Are you taking the carriage?”

“No, I thought I would walk.” She gave a final tweak to her hat, fluffed up one of the flowers that adorned the brim, and turned away from the mirror.

“Hmm,” said her mother. “I suppose, if you’re not going far - “

Before she could change her mind Lucy had tripped out the front door, closely followed by her two attendants. She had a particular reason for walking.