Pride and Retribution (4 page)

She had honestly thought she would never have the misfortune to meet the Earl again and was very uncomfortable to be in his company. She tried valiantly to keep her eyes away from his exceptionally attractive form and concentrate on the drivel falling from Lady Colbourne’s lips.

‘So your Uncle is the Earl of Basset?’ she asked pointedly, as if examining her suitability for Sir Roger. Lucy tried not to bristle with indignation.

‘He is, Lady Colbourne.’ She said firmly and picked up her cup to sip the tepid tea still residing in it.

‘And who inherits after your Uncle dies?’ she asked impertinently.

‘My brother Robert, Lady Colbourne.’ Lucy muttered, which was greeted with squeals of delig
ht from the other six female occupants at the table, making Lucy close her eyes as she weathered the storm of exuberance.

Sir Roger tried not to squirm and the Earl looked down on his aunt in disgust. ‘Is not your brother to be here this afternoon?’ Sir Roger ventured.

Lucy opened her eyes and took a breath, but before she could speak Lady Colbourne interjected. ‘I dare say Miss Colbourne,’ Lady Colbourne indicated her eldest daughter, ‘will be pleased to be introduced to your brother.’ Lucy didn’t like Lady Colbourne’s insinuation. She would bear watching, before she could ensnare Robert in a parson’s mousetrap.

‘Robert is not in Leamington Priors.’ Lucy said coldly. ‘He is at present in the country with my Uncle.’
She smiled brightly at Lady Colbourne. ‘My youngest brother is here, on holiday from Eton.’

‘What of your father?’ the Earl asked, his voice was quiet, but penetrating all the same.

‘My father passed away two years ago, My Lord.’ Lucy replied evenly, without meeting his eyes and managing not to show her lingering grief at losing an important part of her life.

‘
I’m sorry for your loss. He was an Ambassador, was he not?’ the Earl asked softly, making Lucy glance up into that lavender gaze.

‘He was. His last posting was to India, where he contracted Cholera and died. My mother has never recovered from the shock really,’ Lucy told Lady Colbourne, ‘and after her riding accident in the spring, her health is seriously reduced.’

‘I’m sorry to hear it.’ Lady Colbourne said, without any sincerity. ‘More tea?’ she asked holding aloft the almost empty pot.

Lucy lifted the
ornate pendant watch pinned above her left breast and looked at the time. It had a dainty oval face in silver, with cobalt Roman numerals on it and tiny sapphires around the edge of the face as well as larger ones on the broach pin holding it to her Spencer. ‘Forgive me, Lady Colbourne. But I have just enough time for a sojourn around the Pump Room and then I must meet my mother for her treatment.’ Lucy climbed gracefully to her feet, shaking the creases out of her skirts and smoothing her hand over them. Sir Roger jumped forward and extended his arm. Lucy smiled softly as she pulled her gloves on. ‘Thank you for the tea, Lady Colbourne. Good afternoon.’ Lucy said graciously, curtsied and allowed Sir Roger to lead her away, pointedly ignoring the Earl.

‘I had no idea you were acquainted with my cousin?’ Sir Roger asked as they sauntered with the flow around the Assembly room.

‘Acquainted sounds such an intimate relationship.’ Lucy murmured. ‘I met him once and we were never formally introduced until today.’ She gave Sir Roger a gentle smile.

‘Intimate?’ Sir Roger frowned. ‘Why ever would you not wish to be intimately acquainted with Buxton?
He’s the son of a Duke, after all.’

‘The only intimacy I ever shared with your cousin was my hand across his face as he propositioned me like a Cyprian!’ she said harshly ‘and I’ll thank you to drop the subject.’

‘Colbourne?’ a masculine voice stilled their progress. ‘Damn me if it isn’t you!’

‘Your Grace!’ Sir Roger practically fawned, bowing and scraping in the most obsequious manner.

The man that was approaching was everything a man should be, Lucy thought as she admired his golden hair, handsome face, lithe body and his impeccable dress sense. He was dressed much like the Earl of Buxton, but a little more refined, not as showy as Sir Roger. He flashed her a brilliant smile as he perused her from head to foot. ‘Well, who is this?’ he asked silkily. ‘Will you not introduce us, Colbourne?’ he continued as he reached for her hand and she felt a blush heat her cheeks as he looked at her appreciatively.

‘Your Grace, may I pr
esent Miss Lucille Hastings.’ Sir Roger smiled wanly at her and said ‘this is the Duke of Markham, Miss Hastings.’ Lucy dropped a small curtsey.

‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.’ She replied politely.

‘You must be the only girl who is.’ The Duke muttered as he brushed his lips over the backs of her fingers in too familiar a fashion, making Lucy frown slightly. ‘You must join my party, Miss Hastings. I have some champagne and strawberries to tempt you, as Sir Roger and I have some business to discuss.’ He turned a firm eye on Sir Roger and raised a questioning eyebrow, even though he was still holding Lucy’s hand firmly.

‘Ah! Yes!’ Sir Roger seemed unsettled and literally squirmed. ‘Unfortunately, Miss Hastings is expected at her mother’s side directly. We were just leaving.’ Sir Roger presented his arm again to his companion.

The Duke kept his grip on her hand, pulled her gently forward to place his hand on the small of her back and started to steer her towards his table. Lucy may be a Miss, but nobody had handled her with such blatant disregard since she was five. She stomped her foot into the floor and hissed ‘Unhand me, Sir!’ Her eyes looked at the Duke with rebuke.

He was captivated to see the fire in her eyes and suddenly he looked at her in a new light and not just as some chit that was after Sir Roger’s title.

‘Be careful what you say, Markham.’ Buxton’s laconic voice drawled from behind her, ‘otherwise you’ll wear her palm print too!’

The Duke raised his eyes to the Earl of Buxton, his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. ‘She slapped you?’

‘She did and for something less than touching her inappropriately,’ Buxton rubbed his cheek as he looked at the Duke’s hand still resting on her waistline. ‘So be warned!’

The Duke flexed his f
ingers and released Lucy’s hand slowly, making sure the fingers of his other hand stroked sensuously over her back as he stepped away. It made a shiver run down Lucy’s spine, but Buxton distracted the Duke and Sir Roger took the opportunity to move away, gently taking her hand and placing it back on his arm, from where the Duke removed it.

‘My dear Miss Hastings.’ Sir Roger began. ‘I’m mortified that the Duke should be so forward.’

‘Do you have business with him?’ Lucy asked distractedly, she was more interested in why the Duke felt he could just manhandle her to his table without censure.

‘Just a wager to settle, nothing of import.’ Sir Roger muttered, but she didn’t miss the sheen of sweat springing out on his forehead.
He led her to the stairs rather more quickly than she liked.

‘Are we in a hurry?’ she asked innocently and Sir Roger slowed his pace and sighed in relief.

‘No. I was merely distancing myself from the fireworks that might erupt with my cousin and the Duke in close proximity.’ He stated flatly.

‘Why would there be fireworks?’ she asked in surprise.

Sir Roger looked at her knowingly. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t hear about Harriet Saunders?’ he asked agog.

She frowned. ‘I don’t think I’ve heard of her.’ She murmured, but the name tweaked a memory and she could see her Uncle muttering the name under his breath. ‘What happened?’

Sir Roger looked almost gleeful. ‘Well, you see she was Markham’s mistress and Buxton did no more than go into the house that Markham had set up for her and remove her to his own house.’

Lucy inhaled sharply at the mention of mistresses. ‘Is that sort of thing done with mistresses?’ she asked her eyes alight with interest and suddenly Sir Roger remembered he was talking with an innocent miss and cleared his throat with embarrassment.

‘No. A Mistress is usually sacrosanct, unless she has decided to change her protector.’ Sir Roger said coldly and indicated Lucy’s brother. ‘Here is your brother.’ He said in relief again.

‘Oh! Lucy! Thank goodness I have found you, mother is waiting for you.’ he said and ushered Lucy away from Sir Roger
, who left with alacrity, before the Duke could come looking for him as he owed him a rather large amount of money.

Timothy Hastings was taller than Lucy and she found it strange to look up at her younger brother, like she did when Benjamin came home from Eton and he was suddenly taller. All of her brothers were the image of their father with dark brown, wavy hair
and the signature green eyes. Robert still wore his unfashionably long, but Richard, Benjamin and Timothy had elected to have theirs cut to a more fashionable length and style. 

Timothy gallantly held out his arm and escorted Lucy down the stairs to the bathhouse.

The Right Honourable Evelyn Hastings face was pale due to the discomfort and pain in her spine. It made her more peevish than Lucy had ever known her mother to be. Lucy rushed to her mother’s side.

‘About time, Lucy! I thought you’d forgotten me.’ Evelyn snapped.

‘Not at all, mother, but we were delayed by the Duke of Markham. Sir Roger effected an introduction.’ Lucy said patiently as she held her arm out for her mother and escorted her into the changing rooms. From a distance they looked like sisters, it was only up close that you could see the age difference, as Evelyn had a few flecks of grey in her dark mahogany hair and some deeper lines around her eyes, although she had dark circles under her eyes from the pain and lack of sleep. They were of a similar height and lithe grace, but Evelyn had started to thicken around the middle after bearing five children.

They were quiet until Lucy was untying Evelyn’s
full corset when she murmured. ‘Keep away from Markham, Lucy. He is dangerous.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Lucy asked but her mother kept quiet. ‘He looked like a man should look, like a golden angel.’ She said with something close to awe in her voice.

Evelyn turned sharply, grabbing Lucy by the shoulders. ‘More like a golden devil! Promise me you will never be alone with him, never.’ She demanded, almost sobbing the word.

‘I promise, Mama.’ Lucy said as she saw the distress on her mother’s face as tears welled in her
dark green eyes.

Evelyn pulled Lucy into a harsh embrace. ‘Don’t be tempted by that golden facade. If your father were still alive, he would stand over your shoulder while you were out in public. Now you have had an introduction, he will sniff around like the randy dog he is and I beg you not to get caught out by him.’ She pushed Lucy away from her and cupped her cheek. ‘You are my only daughter and I wo
rry for you, without a father. I must have a word with Robert or Richard.’ She finished and turned away for Lucy to finish unlacing her corset.

Lucy was perturbed that her mother would be so vehement about a single, titled male. But perhaps she knew something that Lucy didn’t and she decided to quiz her eldest brother when she had the opportunity. Robert would spill the beans, he always did.

Lucy helped her mother into a towelling bathrobe and quickly shed her dress, chemise and stockings, donning her own robe before they left the changing rooms and entered the bathhouse.

There was a guide waiting to escort them and soon Lucy was helping her mother to relax in the heated spa waters.
Lucy sat on the side of the bath and just looked about her. The room had to be nearly two hundred feet long and she knew there were seventeen hot baths and three cold. The genders were separated by plain cotton screens. She could clearly hear the men on the other side, laughing and talking. There was something erotic about sitting on the edge of the bath in only a robe knowing there were males nearby.

‘Come in the water, Lucy. Even though your health is good, the heat will help relax your muscles too.’ Her mother murmured.

‘Yes, mother.’ Lucy replied and slipped off the side, waded across to her mother and settled on the steps. The hot water made her skin tingle and as she lay back, she could feel her tense muscles easing.

‘I met Sir Roger’s mother.’ She said idly.

‘What did you make of her?’ Evelyn asked softly.

‘She’s an empty-headed doll.’ Lucy murmured, ‘just like her five daughters. Keep Robert away from them
, otherwise she’ll have him in a parson’s mousetrap with Elizabeth, the eldest.’

‘I intend for Robert to choose his own wife. If he wants a brainless idiot, so be it. Many men have done just that.’ Evelyn sighed. ‘Just some brood mare to get
the heir off and then their mistresses give them what they need.’

‘Did father have a mistress?’

Evelyn looked sharply at her daughter. ‘No, he did not. I made sure he never needed one.’ She sighed and her expression softened. ‘What brought on this subject?’

‘I was introduced to the Earl of Buxton, he’s Sir Roger’s cousin and Si
r Roger mentioned a disagreement between him and the Duke of Markham over his mistress Harriet Saunders.’

Evelyn sat up straight and looked keenly at her daughter. ‘I know you like to unravel mysteries, Lucy, but do my heart a favour and stay away from Markham and his damned mistresses.’