A Dream Come True (15 page)

As she tucked herself up for the night, try as she might, she could not help but relive each second of Lord Winterton's kiss.

It made her feel so strange and full of longing that she tossed and turned until the small hours of the morning.

‘He is in my blood and I don't care for it. I wish I could run away from him and it would all be much better if I could!'

*

The next day Lucia occupied herself domestic matters as her mother's illness had meant that the monthly household accounts had been left undone.

There were also the staff wages to be made up and the inventories to go through, giving Lucia barely a moment to herself.

So by the time that the evening came, she was quite tired.

“I think I shall have dinner in my room this evening, Moston,” she ordered wearily. “Just something light, please, and will you inform my stepfather that I will not be joining him?”

“Of course, Miss Lucia.”

Lucia sighed and was about to drag herself up the staircase when the telephone rang. Even before Moston reached it to answer it, she knew who it was.

“It's Mr. de Redcliffe, miss. Are you at home?”

Lucia walked towards him and took the phone from his hand.

“Edward, how are you?”

“Lucia! If it was not so late, I would come over at once,” he replied in a desperate tone. “Your letter – I do not know what to say except that I have only met this Lady Shelley once and that was at a ball I attended with Anthony, her brother.”

“But she knew that you had proposed to me. Edward, be honest with me – have you been discussing this with her brother?”

“No, I swear!” cried Edward. “I have simply no idea how she knows. Anthony does know that I have been calling on you, but I promise you, I have not said a word to him about my intentions. You
must
believe me.”

Lucia did not doubt the truth behind his words – after all, had she not said that he was incapable of telling a lie?

“Very well, we shall forget the matter,” she replied coolly.

“Please tell me that all is well between us. I could not bear it if I thought I had created a breach between us.”

“Do not concern yourself, Edward. Nothing has altered.”

“Then, say you will have dinner with me next weekend.”

After a long pause, Lucia confirmed that she would and bade him goodnight.

‘Well, this is a fine mystery,' she pondered, as she closed her bedroom door. ‘I can only assume that Lady Shelley has simply taken a lucky stab, having heard that Edward and I have been seen out together. No doubt, she is jealous of my closeness to Lord Winterton and seeks to create a division between us. He could not have told her of his arrangement with my stepfather, otherwise, she would have created even more trouble!'

Sitting down in her chair, she looked out of the window at the disappearing sun and wondered what lay in wait for her that week at Longridge Manor.

*

 The Rolls Royce was ready and waiting for her early on Monday morning.

Lucia climbed in feeling exhausted. She had spent another restless night, trying to expunge visions of Lord Winterton from her mind. Even in her dreams, he pursued her, his hot red mouth seeking hers and his hands caressing her face and sliding down to her waist –

‘I don't think I can face him,” she thought, as they arrived at Longridge Manor. Her heart was beating inordinately fast as she stepped out of the motor car.

But to her surprise, when she met him in the study, he was quiet and respectful. He did not try and stand too close to her, or make love with his words. Instead, he was friendly, but businesslike.

Half of her was relieved whilst the other half wondered what on earth he might be thinking. Their schedule of work was rather heavy and there was so much to do and so little time in which to achieve it.

“Today, Mr. Hopkirk, the stonemason, is arriving at half-past eleven to show us a model of the monument,” Lord Winterton told her, striding around the study.

Lucia thought he looked very handsome in his dark suit and in spite of herself, her heart quickened as she listened to his rich low voice.

“This is a most important event for me, Lucia,” he said intensely. “I want us both to work exceedingly hard together so that everything is perfect. We cannot let His Majesty down – he is expecting a great deal from us.”

Later that week, King George's private secretary visited the Manor.

Lucia was so nervous that she almost dropped her teacup during their meeting, but he seemed pleased with what they had to tell him.

“His Majesty has asked me to convey to you how very much is looking forward to this event,” he said. “I trust you will not disappoint us.”

Lord Winterton shook his hand earnestly and rang for Jepson. After the man had left, he threw himself on the sofa in the study and splayed out his fine strong legs.

Lucia had to turn her eyes away otherwise she would have continued to stare at him.

All week she found it very difficult not to allow her gaze to linger too long on his face and form.

The weather had turned warm and he had shed his jacket. His waistcoat fitted him so tightly, that she could not help but admire his shape.

All too soon, Friday came and Lucia found herself quite sad to be leaving. She was also thoroughly perplexed at the change in his attitude towards her.

There had been no careless words, no long gazes and he had kept a respectful distance.

As the footman loaded his motor car with her bags, Lord Winterton took her to one side.

“There is one matter I wish to discuss with you. think I owe you an apology for my conduct of last weekend. It was wrong of me to act so offensively and I ask your forgiveness.”

“It is all forgotten,” answered Lucia, feeling awkward. “Now, I must make haste back to the Hall. I am anxious to see Mama. Mrs. Darrowby said that Doctor Heidweg is still very pleased with her progress.”

As she turned to move away, Lord Winterton caught hold of her hand. For one moment, she thought he would squeeze it, but instead, it brought it to his lips and kissed it.

“Please convey my regards to your mother,” he requested in a husky voice.

Lucia could not look him in the eye as she climbed into the motor car.

Her flesh felt as if it had been singed by his kiss. The imprint of it burned as the car took off down the drive. She did not dare look back, so she simply stared at her white hand, half expecting to find a mark on it.

‘I wish I did not feel like this,' she thought, biting her lip.

Indeed her heart lurched as the Talbot turned out of the driveway and headed back towards Bingham Hall.

*

It did not surprise her, on returning home, to find a letter from Edward, asking if she would still care to dine at Greensides that Saturday evening.

She ran upstairs and hastily composed a note of acceptance and asked Mary-Anne to have it delivered by hand first thing the next morning.

She was delighted to find her mother sitting up in bed with a good deal more colour in her cheeks.

“Lucia, I am so glad you are home again.”

“You are feeling better, Mama?”

“Yes, a little. I am still very weak, but Doctor Heidweg says that is to be expected. He is a marvellous man and has worked wonders on me.”

“Mama, would you mind if I dined with Emmeline tomorrow evening?”

Lucia hated lying to her, but she did not want her to know that she was seeing Edward again. She might innocently let it slip in conversation with her stepfather and then all hell would break loose.

“Not at all, but you must ask your stepfather's permission. You know what his feelings about how he perceives the way you should behave.”

“Of course, Mama,” she said, casting her eyes downwards.

She hated asking Sir Arthur for anything – it did not feel right.

Kissing her mother on the cheek, she went in search of him.

‘I should get this over with before we sit down to dinner,' she decided.

To her surprise, he was in a good humour when she found him in the study.

He smiled in an avuncular fashion and told her to go and enjoy herself. It would do her good to see her friends.

So when she set off the following evening for Greensides, she felt a little guilty that she had told a lie.

She knew that Emmeline was in London that weekend for a ball and there was no danger of her suddenly telephoning Bingham Hall and exposing her deceit.

Edward was waiting for her in his comfortable drawing room.

“You look very beautiful,” he sighed, as his butler took her coat.

The conversation was rather stilted and Lucia found herself yearning for the easy discourse she usually enjoyed with Lord Winterton.

For all his other faults and questionable character traits, he was a witty and amusing gentleman with a fondness for culture.

Edward, on the other hand, talked of race meetings and the forthcoming opening of the polo season. Although she loved to ride, Lucia found horseracing interminably dull and polo even more so.

Soon she found herself stifling a yawn as the butler served the pudding.

“Shall we listen to some music after dinner?” suggested Edward.

Lucia thought that anything that did not encourage conversation, especially on certain dangerous topics, would be most welcome and so she enthusiastically said she would love to.

“I hope you like Strauss,” said Edward, winding up the gramophone.

“Yes, indeed I do,” she replied, closing her eyes as the music began.

Immediately, the swelling orchestra transported her and, in her mind's eye, she was dancing with Lord Winterton across a deserted ballroom and he only had eyes for her.

He whirled her around in his strong capable arms and she felt as if she was dancing on air, so light were his steps.

As the music finished, she opened her eyes and came back down to earth with a bump. Edward was standing by the gramophone, fussing with a box of needles.

“I am certain that I had some loud ones in here,” he muttered to himself, poking around the small oblong tin. “I shall have to ask Simpson where they are.”

‘Oh, he is such a fusspot!' thought Lucia, as she watched him ring for his butler and then stand over the gramophone until he entered the room.

“There is a rather special piece of music I would like to play for you this evening,” he said, as Simpson flipped up the arm and replaced the needle.

“Thank you, Simpson, that will be all.”

Lucia knew what Edward would do next, even before he had placed the record on the turntable.

It was, as she suspected, a romantic piece. She was fond of Debussy, but tonight it was making her feel uncomfortable.

She was very grateful to be sitting in an armchair and not on the sofa where Edward could have installed himself next to her.

Halfway through the record, Edward advanced towards her, dropped to one knee and took her hand.

“Oh, Lucia. I do love you so,” he declared, as she turned her face away. “Say you will be mine!”

The music ended and he still held her hand fast in his. The needle scraped against the grooves of the record and made a dreadful noise.

Lucia wrinkled her brow and withdrew her hand.

“For Heaven's sake, Edward – take that record off! That sound is grating on my nerves.”

The irritability of her tone surprised her and his face fell.

“Of course,” he agreed quietly and stood up to attend to the gramophone.

“Edward, I cannot marry you at present,” she said suddenly. “Mama is not yet well enough and I am so busy with my work. Now, I am very tired, can you ask Simpson to have Briggs bring the car to the front of the house?”

He turned towards her with a disappointed expression.

Ten minutes later, he was walking her to the waiting Rolls Royce.

“Do I entertain any hope at all that you will ever accept me?” he pleaded as she climbed into the car.

Lucia did not reply. She smiled wanly at him and wished him good night.

He stood at the doorway waving to her until the car was out of sight.

*

 When Lucia arrived at Longridge Manor on Monday morning, she was surprised when Jepson informed her that his Lordship had been called away and would not be in residence for most of the week.

“He has left instructions in the study as to what needs doing,” Jepson told her. ‘Oh, what a nuisance!' thought Lucia, as she sat down to read his letters.

Nevertheless, she set to work – making arrangements, writing letters and contacting the local dignitaries who would be attending the ceremony.

It felt strangely lonely to be at Longridge Manor without Lord Winterton and she found she missed him dreadfully.

The hours crawled by and it was not helped by a bout of rainy weather that persisted all week, preventing her from riding or walking.

Lord Winterton did not return all week and, when Lucia arrived on the following Monday, full of hope that she would see him again, he still did not appear.

It was all very mysterious.

Jepson obviously had some inkling of where he was, yet in spite of pressing him, all he would say was that his Lordship had been called away suddenly.

This state of affairs continued long into May and soon Lucia found herself with barely seven weeks left in which to complete all the arrangements.

Each day at the Manor, she arose hoping that he would return home, but by the end of the evening, she was forced to give up hope of seeing him and retired.

Far from putting a distance between them, his absence was only fanning the flames of her affection.

‘Oh, how I long to see him,' she mused wistfully, as she stared out of the study window one afternoon.

She had just seen the stonemason's photographs of the finished monument and she had been overwhelmed at how accurate the likeness was of her father.

‘It's unfair that Lord Winterton is not here to share these small triumphs with me. I do hope he will return in time for the big day – it would not be right.'