The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1) (25 page)

“I am relieved to hear it,” he said. “You are obviously a woman of great integrity.”

“I am,” she affirmed. “The question is, are you?”

“A woman?” His voice held a hint of a smile. “I hope not.”

“A
man
of integrity,” Mrs. Bidding hissed again.

“Ah,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “In that case I would say I mostly am, yes.”

“Then I shall repeat my earlier question,” Mrs. Bidding said firmly. “What do you intend to do about Miss Lucy Beresford?”

“What, exactly, needs to be done. You said yourself that her reputation is still intact, and unless you plan to become a gossip, everything is as it should be.”

“No, it is not.” Her voice rose to a loud whisper. “I know what you have done, Mrs. Beresford knows, and so do you. Any man of honor would—”

“Would what?” he interrupted. “Offer marriage out of a sense of duty? Forgive me, madam, but no real harm has been done, and that is not the way I plan to enter into matrimony. In answer to your question, I intend to do nothing about Miss Lucy Beresford.”

Mrs. Bidding clenched her fists and cast him a glare that would have made her husband wither. “Then you cannot claim to be a man of integrity.”

Lucy could remain silent no longer. The only reason Lord Drayson was made to suffer through such an interrogation was because of
Lucy’s
lack of integrity. He did not deserve to be spoken to in this way, especially when his presence was the reason Mrs. Bidding’s soirée was such a success.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Bidding,” Lucy announced, stepping out from her hiding place. “Lord Drayson has only just proven his integrity.”

Both heads swung to face her, watching her as she approached. Before either of them could speak, Lucy continued. “Lord Drayson has made his feelings quite clear on the matter, and I find myself in complete agreement with him. No one should ever be forced into a marriage they do not wish to enter into, so let us be done with this dreadful conversation. Lord Drayson, please consider yourself a free man in every possible way.” Her voice trembled over the last few words. Despite her show of confidence, it injured Lucy deeply that the earl had proclaimed that he had no wish to marry her. But she refused to fall to pieces over it. Not here, not now, not ever.

As though by divine intervention, the door opened, and Mr. Shepherd walked in, looking every bit like a rescuer—
her
rescuer. He stopped short and took in the scene with intelligent eyes, his gaze finally landing on Lucy. “Is there a problem, my dear?” he asked.

“I am feeling a bit under the weather is all.”

He continued to watch her for a moment, and as he did so, Lucy felt her composure began to slip. If he did not leave this instant, she would crumble into his arms and make a horrible scene.

As though reading her thoughts, he said, “Mrs. Bidding, several guests are inquiring as to the whereabouts of Lord Drayson, Miss Beresford, and yourself. It is creating quite a stir.”

Mrs. Bidding uttered something that sounded a lot like a grunt. “Very well, then. I have done all that I can do anyway. Come, my lord, let us return to the party and find a way to silence the talk.”

Lord Drayson hesitated, studying Lucy with an expression she couldn’t decipher. He reached out as though to touch her, thought better of it, and let his hand fall back to his side. “I hope you feel better soon, Miss Beresford,” he said. “The last thing I would ever wish is for you to be injured in any way.”

Lucy watched him leave, feeling her heart heave and wallow. Why it hurt so much she couldn’t say. Lucy had never entertained thoughts of a match between them, and yet hearing Lord Drayson speak so adamantly against the idea ached abominably.

Mr. Shepherd’s warm and comforting arms enveloped her in an embrace. “I have no idea what was said in here,” he whispered as he held her tight. “But you look as though you could use a hug.”

The tears came then, squeezing from her eyes and dampening the fabric of his coat. Lucy wasn’t sure when Mr. Shepherd had become a second father to her, only that he had, and she was fiercely grateful for it.

The morning after the Bidding’s soirée, Lucy awoke with a pounding in her head. With her palm cradling her forehead, she padded down the stairs, allowed Georgina to make her some restorative tea, and returned to bed until noon, at which point she awoke again feeling a little better. The dreariness from the day before still hovered over her, though, like a lost little storm cloud.

She dressed in a bright peach morning gown in an attempt to lift her spirits and hummed a cheery tune as she forced her feet to trot down the stairs.

“Lucy, is that you?” called her mother from the morning room.

Lucy popped her head into the room and immediately wished she had stayed in bed a while longer. Seated across from her mother was Lady Drayson and Lady Harriett. Lord Drayson stood casually next to the fireplace, with his elbow on the mantle, looking splendid in a dark jacket with a simple knotted cravat, tan pantaloons, and shiny Hessians.

He straightened when he saw her and executed a swift bow. “Miss Beresford,” he said, sounding staid and proper and not at all like himself.

“Lord Drayson. Lady Drayson. Lady Harriett.” Lucy dipped into a slight curtsy and mustered a chipper tone to her voice. “How wonderful to see you again.” She prayed she sounded more genuine than she felt.

“Your mother was just telling us about the wedding plans,” said Lady Harriett. “Do come and join us. She says you are to make the flower arrangements and claims you have quite the talent for it.”

Unable to think of a possible way out, Lucy walked into the room and joined her mother on the settee. “I would not call it a talent, but I do enjoy creating arrangements.”

“She’s quite adept in the garden as well,” inserted the earl. “She grows both flowers
and
vegetables.”

Lucy cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the praise. “What your brother means to say is that I like to dig in the dirt.”

“And wear it,” he added with a grin.

Lucy smoothed her skirts, wondering what he was about. “As you can see, I am not wearing it now.”

“No,” he agreed. “You are wearing a lovely peach gown that looks quite charming on you.”

Lucy had never felt more flummoxed. She glanced at the earl’s mother, who was attempting to hide a smile behind her tea cup. Lady Harriett, on the other hand, practically giggled. “Who would have ever thought Colin could sound so romantic,” she teased her brother. “I’m quite diverted by it. Please, go on.”

Lucy lifted her chin in an unspoken challenge to the earl. “Yes, do go on, Lord Drayson, assuming you can think of another compliment to bestow upon me.”

“I can think of several, actually.” He pushed away from the mantle, crossed the room, and took a seat in the chair next to her. When he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, coming a little too close for her comfort, Lucy immediately wished the challenge back.

“Let’s see . . .” he mused, rubbing his chin in a show of thought. “You look lovely in every shade of color I have seen you wear, you make wonderful biscuits, you can drive the cart admirably—and after only a few lessons too. You hum on key, you are not afraid of hard work or dirty fingernails, you win grasshopper race wagers, climb trees, pick locks with a hairpin, steal a plow without a twinge of conscience—”

“I think that is enough compliments for one day,” Lucy quickly said, her face flaming. Lord Drayson could go to the devil for all she cared at the moment.

Harriett laughed delightedly and clapped her hands. “Miss Beresford, I must tell you what I could not confide in you last night. The reason Mother and I travelled all this way was to meet you. You are quite famous in our household.”

Had she meant to say
infamous
? Lucy thought, not knowing how to respond. She glanced at the earl, wondering what he had told his family and what they must think of her, and quickly decided she preferred not to know.

“Mother and Harriett were vastly entertained when I explained to them that I had lived the life of a butler, footman, and coachman for many days,” he explained.

Lady Harriett seemed good-hearted enough, as did Lady Drayson. Perhaps they had found the situation more humorous than distressing. At least Lucy hoped they had.

“Did your brother happen to mention at what point his memory returned?” Lucy asked, thinking of the wager, the ghastly hat, and how long the earl had played her as the fool instead of the other way around.

Lady Drayson shook her head. “I’m afraid what little he has told us had to be extracted from him in a truly painful way—for us, I mean. He was not overly forthcoming with the details.”

Harriett leaned forward and clutched her hands in her lap. “But you are not so secretive, are you Miss Beresford? Please say that you are not.”

“Not at all,” Lucy said. “Ask me anything and I shall answer with far more details than you could ever wish to hear.”

Lord Drayson apparently decided it was past time to intervene, for he cleared his throat quite loudly. “Mrs. Beresford, might we offer some assistance for your upcoming nuptials?”

“I appreciate your kindness, my lord, but Lucy and I have everything well in hand.”

Lucy was grateful to the earl for finding a way to redirect the conversation. She wasn’t nearly as ready as she’d let on to share the details of their adventures together.

“The wedding
is
well in hand,” agreed Lucy. “But I could use your help convincing Mama that she ought to stop fretting about me and take a wedding trip with Mr. Shepherd.”

Lady Drayson set down her tea cup and looked at Mrs. Beresford in surprise. “You are not to have a wedding trip?”

Mrs. Beresford answered carefully. “We do not wish to leave Lucy at home alone.”

Lucy tried her best to ignore the earl’s snickering. “I will be surrounded by heaps of servants at Knotting Tree and couldn’t possibly get into any trouble, Mama.”

The earl coughed loudly, but it sounded suspiciously like he said, “Doubtful” while doing so.

Lucy glared at him while Lady Drayson tried to hide a smile behind her hand.

Mrs. Beresford attempted to rein in the conversation. “The fact of the matter is that Mr. Shepherd and I do not have much time for a trip and are perfectly content to see ourselves settled at Knotting Tree.”

“Why does Miss Beresford not stay with us?” suggested Lady Harriett, much to Lucy’s dismay. “I will see to it that she does not come to any trouble.”

“You?” The earl chuckled. “You are two peas in a pod, I think.”

Before Harriett could dispute the accusation, Lady Drayson laid a hand on her daughter’s arm. “What Harriett means to say is that we would be delighted to have Miss Beresford as our guest while you are away. It seems the perfect solution.”

Absolutely not!
Lucy wanted to shout. It was difficult enough to see Tanglewood Manor from afar. Living there would be akin to torture, especially if Lady Harriett truly did plan to question Lucy mercilessly about her time with Lord Drayson. Surely Mrs. Beresford would not agree to such a scheme. And yet she appeared to be considering it. Oh dear. Why had Lucy mentioned the wedding trip at all?

“Are you certain it would be no trouble?” Mrs. Beresford asked.

Lucy was about to insist that they could not ask such a thing of the Draysons, but then she spied the hope in her mother’s eyes. She realized her mother really did wish to go on a wedding trip with her new husband. It was Lucy, and only Lucy, that held her back.

Lucy swallowed her argument, which felt like a cube of sugar grating down her throat, and allowed Lady Drayson to say, “Certainly not. It will be a joy to have her. That is, if you are in agreement, Miss Beresford.”

Every instinct in Lucy urged her to say, “No, I am not in agreement,” but she forced herself to nod instead. She could sacrifice a few days of discomfort so that her mother could have a wedding trip.

“I should love to join you at Tanglewood,” Lucy managed to say.

The earl arched his eyebrow in a look of half surprise, half respect, as though he could read her thoughts and commended her decision. Then he settled back in his chair with a pleased expression on his face.

Lucy wished she could feel as pleased by the latest turn of events, but a large knot of dread formed in her stomach. She tried to push it aside and be happy for her mother, telling herself that she would simply do her best to stay out of Lord Drayson’s path, but the knot wouldn’t budge. Lucy could only pray that her heart would come away from the experience no more injured than it was now.