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Authors: Sasha Cottman

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She watched as he observed the other couples before offering her his arm. With a gracious smile she accepted it.

As guest of honour for the evening, Avery by rights should have sat near the head of the table, but as it was an informal gathering, Lord Langham did not press his guests to take their seats strictly according to protocol.

Lucy quickly scrambled to find a seat opposite Avery.

While they sat and waited for the first of the courses to arrive, Lord Langham encouraged Avery to recall a little of his life in the army. Lucy was pleased to see that the earl was at pains to help Avery better acquaint himself with the rest of the small gathering.

‘I spent nearly all of this century so far abroad, serving with His Majesty’s forces. It was only two years ago that I was returned to England,’ he said.

‘And where did you serve, Mr Fox?’ Lucy asked.

He put his wine glass down and considered her words. ‘Portugal, Spain, Belgium and a little of France. But Portugal mostly,’ he replied.

‘Did you get to see much of Portugal? I remember travelling there as a young man when I undertook the Grand Tour. Lisbon is a wonderful city,’ Lord Langham replied.

Lucy sat silent, remembering her place. It was inappropriate for a young lady to press a gentleman regarding his private life. All the same, she found herself enjoying the conversation.

As the light from the candelabra in the centre of the table cast a golden glow on Avery’s face, she studied him. He was newly shaven, and from the lack of blood nicks on his neck and chin it was clear Lord Langham had furnished his heir with his own private valet. Gone was the rough army shave she had noted during their previous encounters.

Pity. It did give him that rugged, world-travelled look.

For a moment she stopped listening to Avery’s speech. As her gaze roamed over his face, memorising every beguiling detail, a small voice in the back of her mind pointedly asked at which particular moment she had taken up the close study of Mr Avery Fox.

‘I didn’t get to spend much time in Lisbon itself; I was based in the mountains for most of the time. My unit had its base near Sintra, not far from the Castle of the Moors,’ Avery replied.

‘Yes, the ruins are truly inspiring. I particularly liked climbing up to see the monastery to Saint Jerome. I was fortunate enough to be a guest of the Dutch Consul at the Seteais Palace for several weeks at one point and got to spend quite a bit of time visiting the various ruins,’ said Lord Langham.

Sintra. Lucy had seen books with beautiful colour plate drawings of the ruins of the royal palaces high in the mountains. How romantic it must have been to actually live in those mountains, to see the ruins up close. She pictured Avery, sitting quietly, enjoying a glass or two of port and some cheese under the shade of a leafy tree, while taking in the wonderful view of the sunlit valleys which spread out below him for miles. An elegant and inspiring tapestry of life.

‘Magnificent mountains, but very rough terrain. It rained almost every day, so we spent most of our time trying to keep dry. In winter we had snow which lay up to six feet deep on the ground for months at a time. The horses had a terrible time trying to pick their way along the narrow mountain tracks. The only creatures that seem to enjoy living up at that altitude are the mountain goats. Fortunately they were very slow when it came to the chase, so they made for good eating,’ Avery replied.

Lucy silently chided herself.

Foolish chit. Of course his life has not been one of idle leisure and pursuits. He was a soldier.

While Lord Langham had visited Portugal as a well-pampered guest, his new heir had lived the hard life of a poorly paid soldier.

‘Did you get time to draw while you were there?’ Clarice, seated nearby, asked.

Lucy scowled. Avery was her particular subject of special interest. Her sister-in-law’s knowledge of such private details of his life caught her off guard.

‘How did you know I draw?’ Avery asked.

‘Thaxter mentioned it once to me. Said you were quite proficient with pencil and paper,’ Clarice replied.

The table fell silent.

Across from him, Lucy watched as a pained look of surprise appeared on Avery’s face. It was clear he had not expected his brother to have made any form of pleasant remark when it came to him.

He picked up his wine glass and after studying it for a moment, took a large mouthful. His eyes were cast down as Lucy watched him slowly swallow the wine.

‘I’m a painter myself,’ Clarice added.

His head shot up.

‘Pardon?’

‘Landscapes, mostly, though I have tried the occasional portrait. The picture behind you is one of mine,’ she said.

The rest of the seated guests looked up and took in the skilfully painted scene of a lake and surrounds. Avery rose from his chair and crossed the floor to the painting, standing with his back to the rest of the guests. His shoulders rose and fell as he sucked in deep breaths.

Lord Langham came and stood by his side.

‘She is rather good. I’m very proud of Clarice’s work.’

Avery nodded.

From where she sat nearby, Lucy overheard Lord Langham speak low to Avery.

‘I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to embarrass you. I know you had a hard life at home and the army must have been a tough stretch for such a young lad. The last thing any of us ever want is for you to feel uncomfortable among us.’

‘Thank you. You have been nothing but kind to me. It was hearing my brother even acknowledged my existence that came as a bit of a shock. I’m sorry if I caused any offence,’ Avery replied.

They resumed their seats at the table just as the first of the evening courses arrived. Lucy barely looked at her bowl of onion soup; her appetite was the least of her concerns.

Her mind was concentrated on how she could help Avery transition into his new life among London’s elite. If she could help it, he would never feel like an outsider.

She picked up her soup spoon and absent-mindedly twirled it about in her fingers. Across from her, she saw Avery check his cutlery and pick up the same implement. She smiled softly as a moment of realisation dawned.

She had been racking her brains to discover ways to help him, and the answer had presented itself. She could be of excellent use to Mr Avery Fox. Having lived her entire life amongst the
ton
, she knew exactly how a gentleman should conduct himself when in the company of ladies. Stifling a self-satisfied grin, she sipped her soup from the side of the spoon, being careful not to make any noise. To slurp one’s soup was vulgar, to say the least.

Avery followed suit.

She sat back in her chair and studied him further, revelling in this unexpected development. Yes, she had to help him. Who knew what trouble those deep sea-green eyes could find themselves in if she didn’t?

It is the proper thing for a young lady to do.

A sharp elbow in her ribs from Millie, seated next to her, broke the spell.

‘The salt. Will you please pass the salt?’ Millie whispered.

‘Sorry.’

She handed Millie the salt without taking her gaze from the gentleman opposite. Millie cleared her throat and out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw Millie’s napkin fall to the floor. She watched as her sister-in-law bent down and picked it up, waving away an attentive footman who attempted to assist.

‘Ladies’ retiring room now, Lucy,’ she muttered as their gazes met.

As soon as the door of the ladies’ room was closed behind them Millie rounded on her.

‘What the devil are you playing at?’ she demanded.

‘What do you mean?’

Millie harrumphed. ‘Mr Fox is what I mean. You haven’t taken your gaze off him all evening. The poor man must be dying of embarrassment, having to watch you make eyes at him.’

Lucy stared at her sister-in-law as she struggled to form a coherent response. One which would not include her having to tell an open lie. She knew Millie could read her like a book.

The truth was, a soft spot had indeed formed in her heart for Avery. While praying it was only pity for him being all alone in the world, she was beginning to suspect it was not.

‘I just thought he might need some help in joining society,’ she replied.

The raise of a singular eyebrow told Lucy that Millie was not buying her story.

‘And you, an unmarried woman, thought you might be the perfect candidate for the job? Lucy, that is utter madness. Apart from the fact that you barely know the man, how do you expect to be able to spend any sort of time with him without starting all manner of salacious rumours?’

Lucy sighed. She hated it when Millie was right.

While Millie crossed to the washstand and fixed up her hair, Lucy considered the situation. She had now admitted to herself that she liked Avery. And knowing her own true nature, there was every chance she might begin to feel something more for him. She also knew that getting her heart broken at this particular juncture would signal the final disaster in her London season.

While her two brothers had managed to find themselves suitable brides this year, she was staring at her second
annus horribilis
.

Millie returned and gently took hold of Lucy’s hand.

‘I don’t want to discourage you completely from thinking Mr Fox could be a possible husband, but I want you to think seriously about it. Take your time. I hoped you would have learned from your encounter with my brother.’

Lucy winced. It had always been a remote possibility that Millie wouldn’t have discovered the truth about the disastrous kiss in the garden between Lucy and Charles Ashton.

Memories of that night still burned in her mind. Her tearful entreaty to Charles, begging him to show her what it was like to be kissed, had been followed by unmitigated disaster. His initial reluctance had been made worse by the lack of effort he put into the endeavour when he finally relented.

There had been no earth-shattering passion in the touch of his lips. No sudden and overwhelming release of her heart’s desire. The term ‘cold fish’ had immediately sprung to mind and she had told him so in no uncertain terms.

If Charles had been angry that night, his fury had been more than matched by the hurt to Lucy’s pride. He had made her feel a worthless fool.

‘Not that I would have ever suggested you should have chosen Charles to be your very first kiss. He doesn’t have much experience with young unmarried ladies of our class, if you get my meaning. I somehow suspect his future bride will not be an inexperienced debutante, and as for Avery Fox, you can be certain that he has even less idea of how to handle a lady of your status and experience. Just be careful,’ Millie cautioned.

Millie, of course, was right. While Lucy had spent the better part of the evening staring at Avery Fox, she really knew very little about him.

But I was helping him and he seemed to like it. How much trouble could that get me into? Besides, how else am I to get to know him?

‘All right, I shall behave and not stare at him so much, but please allow me to make my own choices and mistakes when it comes to my future,’ Lucy replied.

Millie stood silent for a moment.

‘Of course, it was presumptuous of me to tell you how to live your life. But I beg of you, take it slowly. Avery Fox is still very much a stranger to us all. Make it your business to find out a little bit more about him. On second thoughts, dear sister, make it your business to find out everything about him. That way, if you do come to the conclusion that he
is
a suitable husband, you will be making an informed choice.’

A nervous whimper escaped Lucy’s lips. When had the business of finding love become such a calculating endeavour?

While Millie was now her sister-in-law, she was lost to Lucy as her closest friend. Gone were the long afternoons sitting in Lucy’s bedroom sharing secrets and laughter. At parties and balls, Alex now commanded Millie’s attention and time. With Clarice now married to David and with child, Lucy felt more and more alone. Only Eve seemed to understand the depth of Lucy’s yearning to be a well-loved wife.

She wanted passion. Although perhaps not passion as fiery as Millie and Alex’s marriage; their rows were fast becoming legendary within the family. One minute they were holding hands like love-struck children, the next they were staring daggers at each other. But Lucy hungered for love none the less. Her own parents’ marriage was the golden ring she had her heart set on. It wasn’t impossible to find a man who understood love, was it?

Millie put a comforting arm around Lucy.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be harsh with you. It’s just that I’m worried you will go and do something reckless. At least I knew Alex wanted me when I played the high-stakes game of love. Don’t risk your heart and happiness over someone who may not be a sure bet,’ she said.

Lucy’s mind was still in a state of turmoil when she returned to the dining room. As she took her seat, Avery gave her a friendly smile. She nodded serenely in reply, her heart sinking when he glanced down at his plate, his disappointment evident.

All the ground she had made with him earlier in the evening evaporated before her eyes. She chanced a glance at Millie, but she had turned away and was speaking to her husband.

Another course arrived and she sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap.

Polite but not intrusive.

Across the table Avery cleared his throat. Not loudly, but just enough for it to be apparent he was trying to gain her attention. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip as those either side of her continued with their conversations. No one touched their food.

Drawn by Avery’s plea, her gaze drifted across the table. As it fell on his hands, she sighed. His white-gloved hands were softly settled one on top of the other. She looked up and met his eyes. Unaware of the correct knife and fork to use for the fish course, he was waiting for her to give him his cue. Waiting for her direction.

Much as she respected Millie’s words of advice, Lucy decided she was going to trust her instincts. She picked up the correct fork and held it up just long enough for him to see it and take note. The warm secret smile they shared thrilled her to her toes. She tucked happily into the buttered sole.

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