A Lady in Name (26 page)

Lucy summoned a smile.
‘I am a little tired.’

‘A little!’
His eyebrow rose. ‘From what Dion has been telling us, I should think you must be dead on your feet.’

She could not forbear a little laugh.
‘She is probably more tired than I am. She was bouncing with energy throughout.’

Stefan grinned.
‘She still is. She is regaling Corisande with a blow by blow account of the proceedings.’ His lips twitched. ‘Which is why I absented myself. Loath as I am to seem unsympathetic, I cannot find it in me to revel in the details of Paulina’s sufferings.’

‘No, indeed,’ agreed Lucy, feeling inexplicably lighter.
‘I have yet to find a man who can stomach hearing of what women are obliged to go through on these occasions.’

‘And you have tested innumerable men on the subject, I take it?’

Lucy giggled. ‘Well, the menfolk have uniformly vanished for the duration whenever I have been called upon to assist at a birth.’

To her surprise, Stefan’s gaze became fixed upon her face, as though he studied her.
‘You are a remarkable female, Lucy Graydene. I have spoken of it before, but I never realised it fully until today.’

A flush of pleasure warmed Lucy’s bosom.
‘I think that is a compliment.’

‘It is.’

‘Then I have only to thank you.’

Stefan shook his head, and there was vehemence in his tone.
‘Don’t you dare. If there is any gratitude forthcoming, it is wholly in your direction. You have nothing to do but to accept it gracefully. Dion has been praising you to the skies.’

Lucy shifted in some discomfort.
‘It is all new to Dion. I am glad I was able to be of service. It makes some small recompense for causing the uproar in the first place.’

Stefan’s face changed, a look of thunder coming into it.
Next instant, Lucy had been seized by the shoulders.

‘I won’t have you talking like that!
You are not the villain of the piece, Lucy. If I am not much mistaken, Paulina has a great deal to answer for.’

Lucy wanted to refute this, for however much it had hurt to be attacked that morning, she had the wit to understand her half-sister’s feelings.
But Stefan’s action had pulled her away from the supporting wall, and she did not trust her legs. Instinct caused her to clutch at Stefan for support.

‘Hold me, pray!
I cannot stand very well.’

‘By God, but I am a fool,
’ muttered Stefan, catching her about the shoulders. ‘Shall I carry you?’

‘No, no, I can manage, if you will only lend me your arm.’

Stefan’s hand slid under her shoulder as he turned into her. ‘Where do you wish to go?’

‘My chamber, if you please.’

‘Come then.’

For the first few steps it was bliss to be so strongly supported
that she need not rely on her legs. But within a short space of time, Lucy felt a glow start up in her veins. His proximity was having its inevitable effect. Lucy began to shiver.

‘You are shaking
.’

Concern was in his voice, and he held her closer.
The heat redoubled within her and confusion made Lucy stumble.

‘You are not fit to walk,’ he said roughly, and swung her up into his arms.
‘Put your arm about my neck.’

Lucy could do nothing but obey.
She was quivering uncontrollably, the tremors spreading to encompass her whole body. She no longer knew whether the condition owed more to her situation, snug in his embrace, or to the lassitude overtaking her.

Fortunately, it did not take Stefan long to reach her chamber.
He set her down at the door, but instead of leaving her, he turned the handle and pushed it open, guiding her into the room.

‘I think you’d best sit down,’ he said curtly, leading her to the bed and pushing her down.

Lucy sat on the end of the big four-poster, and looked up at him where he stood over her. A deep frown marred his brow, and his eyes regarded her with an expression almost of anger. Instinct made her protest.

‘I hope you don’t mean to ring a peal over me.’

For a moment he looked surprised. Then his brow cleared. ‘Why in Hades should I do so? I am far too much in your debt.’

She made a half-hearted gesture of denial.
‘You are talking nonsense.’ A thought occurred and she could not forbear a little gurgle of laughter. ‘I am not used to hearing so much in my praise from you, Stefan. It is not like you at all.’

A grin dispelled the last of the lingering frown.
‘Enjoy it while you may. I cannot guarantee to continue in this frame of mind.’

She laughed, and he stepped back from her.
Almost as if he did so with an effort. ‘I had best leave you to rest. Until dinner, which I should think you will be glad of after your exertions.’

Lucy watched him walk to the door, feeling peculiarly bereft.
He opened it, looked back briefly, and was gone. For a few moments, Lucy stayed just where she was, beset by a feeling of disorientation and unreality, as if the events of the day had been a dream. She ought to get up off the bed and remove her gown. It appeared to be a task well beyond her capabilities, as was the necessity to ring for hot water to wash with. She tried to work out a sequence of actions which became curiously involved.

The next thing she knew, she awoke to darkness and found Dion shaking her shoulder.

‘Are you not coming down to dinner, Lucy?’

* * *

The atmosphere was chilly, to say the least. Lucy might have expected Lord Sarclet to be expansive, for he had the son he craved. Not only had Dion informed Lucy of his lordship’s long disappointed desire for a boy, but Paulina herself, during lucid intervals, had said much of her hopes of pleasing her husband with a son. But whatever delight Lord Sarclet had manifested had dissipated by the time Lucy entered the Red Saloon in company with Dion.

She had been chivvied into washing and changing her dress, and felt obliged to apologise for keeping everyone waiting.

‘I’m afraid I fell asleep.’

‘A good thing too,’ Stefan said warmly.

Mrs Ankerville had pointed an accusing finger at Lucy. ‘You are born into the wrong age, Lucinda. You would have done very well in the Middle Ages, for women in that time were expected to assist each other with everything concerning confinements. It was a rough age, and—’

‘Yes, yes, Mama,’ hurriedly interposed Dion, ‘but should we not go into the dining parlour?’

‘
– there was no purchase in being delicate,’ continued Mrs Ankerville, as if Dion had not spoken, but she moved to Lucy and put a hand through her arm, leading her towards the door. ‘There were no doctors on call the way there are now, and women had to have knowledge of the lore of healing, among all the other things that fell to their lot.’

Her dissertation lasted well into the first course, and was only interrupted at last by Stefan, who cut in without ceremony, addressing himself to Lord Sarclet, in the tone reserved for moments of irony that Lucy at least recognised.

‘Have you no word of gratitude for Miss Graydene, Thomas?’

Lord Sarclet was seated opposite to Lucy, with Dion on his right.
She had been aware of him studiously avoiding her gaze, and could not help feeling embarrassed by Stefan’s probing.

He cleared his throat, shoving his head forward and allowing his bulbous eyes to rest on Lucy for a brief moment.

‘Naturally. Obliged to you.’

There was a silence stiff with unspoken feeling.
Dion’s eyes sparked, and catching a glimpse of Stefan, Lucy saw his frown intensify. She hurried into speech.

‘There is no need.
I would have done the same for anyone.’

Lord Sarclet cleared his throat again, but did not speak, addressing himself to his plate.

‘How is Paulina faring?’ asked Mrs Ankerville.

Lucy blessed her for saving the day, and thankfully resumed her own meal.

‘She is recovering well, I am relieved to say,’ said Lord Sarclet. ‘Crick thinks she may be able to be moved in a week or two.’

‘A week or two!’

The exclamation came from Dion. Lucy glanced up, fearful of hearing her cousin protest outright. Fortunately, Stefan intervened.

‘We will of course be happy for Paulina to remain until she is completely recovered.’

Lord Sarclet looked across at him, and then at Lucy, catching her eye briefly before he turned his attention back to his plate. ‘I fear that may depend.’

‘Upon what?’ asked Dion, looking puzzled.

‘Paulina is wishful of returning home as soon as possible.’

‘She would do better to remain here,’ pronounced Mrs Ankerville in judicious tones.
‘It is never wise to travel too soon after one’s confinement. The jolting of the carriage can be excessively uncomfortable.’

Lord Sarclet was looking mulish.
‘I dare say, but under the circumstances, I must confess myself in sympathy with my wife’s wishes.’

Lucy caught a flash from the man’s eyes directed at herself.
A sensation of dismay ripped through her like a shock of icy water, settling in a pool in her stomach. She had not far to seek for Lady Sarclet’s reason.

Stefan was the first to break silence, an edge to his voice.
‘To just what circumstances do you allude, cousin?’

Lord Sarclet sniffed.
‘I think you understand me perfectly, Pennington.’

‘I hope very much that I do not.’

The edge was now pronounced, a riffle of anger lending coldness to Stefan’s voice. Lucy began to feel sick with dread and upset. She caught Dion’s lively look of question, and prayed she would keep her mouth shut. It had not occurred to Lucy to fear Mrs Ankerville.

‘I see what it is,’ she said, in a perfectly matter of fact way.
‘Paulina has told you of Lucinda’s relationship to her. I suppose there was no hope but the matter would cause you to hold up your nose in that stuffy way.’

Lucy bit her lip to stop herself from screaming.
She could see Stefan’s tight-lipped fury and Dion’s open-mouthed shock.

‘It is true,’ said Lord Sarclet, his tone measured but peevish.
‘My wife confided the matter to me the moment she felt sufficiently recovered to converse. I may say I was shocked by the revelation, but more so by your action in admitting such a person into your establishment, Pennington.’

Dion gasped, whipping about in her chair to stare at him.
‘I don’t know how you dare speak in such a fashion. After all Lucy has done for Paulina today!’

Acutely embarrassed, Lucy watched the man turn on Dion, his jaw stiff as he jerked out the words.

‘Much as I deplore her involvement, I cannot think it but fair recompense for having brought on the labour prematurely. If Paulina had not—’

‘If Paulina had not come badgering poor Lucy this morning,’ interrupted Dion furiously, ‘she wouldn’t have gone into labour.
It is her own fault!’

Much to Lucy’s relief, Stefan cut in.
‘Be quiet, Dion.’

The relief was short-lived, for Stefan then turned to Lord Sarclet, and there was contempt in the cool tone.
‘Whatever the rights and wrongs of the encounter, Sarclet, I have to say I am astonished at your incivility. Not to mention the base ingratitude of yourself and Paulina in the face of Lucy’s invaluable assistance. Most of all, permit me to say that neither you nor Paulina has the right to dictate my actions in my own house.’

Lord Sarclet glared at him.
‘I am not unmindful of the girl’s usefulness today.’

‘Usefulness
!’ echoed Dion.

He paid no heed.
‘But the fact remains she was instrumental in bringing about Paulina’s distresses. And you, Pennington, must share in the blame. What possessed you to dig up such a skeleton in my deceased father-in-law’s closet is a matter for your own counsel, no doubt, but anyone would take you for a lunatic.’

Stefan’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Dion sat huffing and puffing like a pair of bellows.
At any second, one or other would speak again and only make bad worse. Lucy could bear no more.

She got up from her chair, drawing all eyes.
‘Enough! Enough, if you please.’

From the lower end of the table, Mrs Ankerville clapped her hands.
‘Quite right, Lucinda. Stand up for yourself, child.’

Lucy acknowledged this but barely, turning her attention to Stefan.
‘I thank you for your support, but I must agree with Lord Sarclet. It was the shock of realisation of who I am that brought on Paulina’s labour.’

‘Fiddle
,’ burst out Dion, but Lucy threw up a hand.

‘Pray let me speak, Dion.
I wish it had not happened, but events moved so fast there was no opportunity to undo the harm.’

‘Which was not caused by you
.’