The Waltzing Widow/Smith (13 page)

Lucy looked at him, her eyes full of wonder, and smiled. “Well, that was a surprise,” she said in confusion.

“Why, you were a married lady, Lucy. This cannot be new to you.”

It was obviously the moment to inform him of the truth. Lucy girded herself for the telling and said, “I’m not exactly what you think.”

He patted her hand in an avuncular manner. “There is no need to apologize, Lucy. I know more or less who and what you are.”

“I was not going to apologize, exactly. Though perhaps I do owe you an explanation. Really I don’t think you can know what I am, Adrian.”

She was ready to admit all, but he was not in a mood to badger her for details. His smile was devastating as his eyes lingered on her face. “I know you are criminally beautiful, and I want to be with you. Now, let us set the date. When can you come to stay at Seaview? We must become better acquainted, Lucy.”

Lucy took up her tea again. The “set the date” had confused her. She thought he was planning the wedding already, but it was a good idea to become better known to each other first. “I would have to consult with Miss Percy before I made any decision, of course.”

“Yes, certainly I would prefer that she make other plans,” he agreed.

“Other plans? Oh, she will stay with me till I am married at least,” she exclaimed. Avedon gave a leap of surprise.

“That may be a long time. We wouldn’t want her around,” he said bluntly. “Naturally you would not want to be alone when I am at Chenely, but Mrs. Landers resides here. She would understand.”

She frowned in confusion. There was obviously some misunderstanding afoot here. He could not be suggesting—“Understand what?” she asked.

“The nature of our liaison. I am offering you Seaview free of cost, as my guest for the summer months, with all a mistress’s usual perquisites. Money, a clothing allowance. I would come to see you as often as my duties permit.”

“Do you mean—are you saying—are you offering me a mistress-ship!” Fire blazed in her eyes, yet her voice was like ice.

Avedon allowed a tolerant smile of surprise to settle on his lips before speaking. “Certainly that was my meaning, madam. What else could I possibly want with a woman like you?”

Lucy had the strange feeling she was sinking into that cold, wind-tossed sea beyond the window. Avedon was calling her a lightskirt. He had never cared for her in the least. He had brought her for the specific purpose of insulting her. “A woman like you” he had said, as if she were a leper.

It was shock that saved her. She wanted to dump her tea over his head, to revile and chastise him, and inform him her male relative would be calling on him to protect her honor. Except that one could hardly involve a bishop in a duel. So she sat silent a moment, thinking, listening to the thudding beats of her heart, while he stared at her with a contemptuous curl on his hateful lips.

And while she sat, it occurred to her that it would be extremely awkward to get home from this place alone. After this insult, she didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d abandon her if she spurned his offer. Some cunning corner of her mind wanted to repay him in kind as well. What form this retribution would take was unclear, but he must be made to pay.

“You know me uncommonly well, sir,” she said in a tightly controlled voice.

“I can see a pretty woman by daylight.”

“I must give this my deepest consideration,” she said, scanning possible revenges. One came to her in a flash. Why should
she
be the one stranded, unable to get home without great inconvenience? “And I really must tell Miss Percy. She oversees all my patrons,” she added grimly. How to get rid of him for the necessary length of time? “Do you have to see anyone else while you’re here, Adrian?”

“No, I just wanted to show you the house. Perhaps I should stop by Huddleston’s place and tell him to prepare my yacht for the weekend.”

“Oh, yes. We shall want to use the yacht,” she said enthusiastically. “You must go to see him at once.”

“You’ve hardly touched your tea.”

“I can wait for you here. Is Huddleston’s place very far?”

“It’s just a few hundred yards farther along. He’s a fisherman. He keeps my yacht for me. I’ll walk over and be back in ten minutes.”

“Don’t be long,” she said, batting her lashes flirtatiously.

Lucy steeled herself for the quick but ardent kiss he placed on her lips. It took all her fortitude not to attack him. He left, and the moment he was out the door, she ran out to the stable. She was relieved to see the team hadn’t been unhitched. She hopped up in the driver’s seat and wheeled the curricle out onto the road.

The horses were already tired from their morning’s drive, or she would never have been able to control them. It took all her strength to do it, but she was a good driver, and there was no need to spring them. There had been no other horseflesh in the stables. It would take Avedon a while to find she was gone and borrow or hire some other rig.

The task of controlling the high steppers occupied so
much of her attention that for the first half of the trip Lucy was unable to think of anything else. The occupants of other vehicles on the road turned and stared to see an unaccompanied lady wheeling along in a dashing yellow curricle. Her obvious gentility was all that saved her from jeers. By the time she was halfway home, the horses were becoming more fatigued and were easier to handle. She was very glad for it, as her fingers had raised blisters. Lucy was able to turn her mind to Avedon’s insult.

What had possessed him to do it? It was a calculated insult, and to pretend he wanted to marry her was only done to humiliate her. Her heart burned like a red coal. She would never forgive him for this. Never.

The trip home took over two hours. Lucy was exhausted, dusty, and furious when she reached the door of Rose Cottage. She called the groom and told him to deliver Avedon’s team to his stable with her compliments. She was not in a mood to give Mrs. Percy the necessary explanations, but her chaperon knew at a glance that something was amiss.

“What on earth happened, Lucy?” she asked.

“Avedon behaved abominably. I doubt we shall be hearing from him again.”

“What did he do?”

Lucy burst into tears of frustration and ran upstairs, leaving the poor dame completely in the dark. A lover’s quarrel, she decided, and didn’t go after Lucy. She’d hear it all in good time. But in the near term all she heard was a message from the servant requesting that Miss Percy make their excuses for dinner at Milhaven.

It was not till late afternoon that Lord Avedon arrived at Chenely astride a winded jade hired at the inn at Dover. His means of travel from Seaview to Dover had been even more degrading; it was a donkey cart borrowed from Huddleston.

The opinion of such low people as Mrs. Landry and Huddleston mattered little to him, but still, he was livid to remember his embarrassment. He was in a temper that put Lucy’s fit of sulks in the shade. His groom, familiar with this mood, did not ask any questions when he saw the black scowl his master wore.

“See that this moribund nag is returned to Fitchley’s in Dover,” Avedon said grimly, and tossed the reins of his mount to a groom. He saw from the corner of his eye that his curricle and grays were returned, and went to examine his team. They had been driven into the ground, but their mouths and legs appeared unharmed.

“When did these get back?” he demanded.

“Two hours ago. They was sent up from Rose Cottage,” the groom replied. “Mrs. Percy sent her compliments with ‘em, I believe.”

“Thoughtful of her!” Avedon snarled. While he had plodded along in a donkey cart, Mrs. Percy had driven his rig. Someone would pay for this outrage. His fingers itched to connect violently with human flesh.

It chanced to be his sister who first encountered him inside the house.

“Adrian, what on earth happened to you?” she demanded, regarding his disheveled appearance.

“What does it look like?” he replied through thin lips.

“Are you digging up the meadow again?” she asked in confusion.

“What an excellent idea!”

He disappeared into his study. A bottle of brandy soon followed him in. He did not appear at dinner and sent word to the table that he was too busy to be disturbed. His body was sprawled on a chair, becoming slowly intoxicated, but his mind was active. Mrs. Percy had to be put in her place, and he was coming to realize that it would require a perfect plan to accomplish it. No maneuvering room must be permitted, or she’d weasel it to her advantage.

He thought of burning her house down and forbidding anyone in the neighborhood to take her in. But, of course, Isabel would be there with open arms to receive her and hand Tony over to the woman. He thought of calling the constable and having her arrested for stealing his grays—except that she had returned them unharmed.

After a few more glasses of brandy, he suddenly found himself picturing her as his wife, under his cruel thumb till the day she died. He would lead her a sinner’s existence in sackcloth and ashes. And even in sackcloth she would look irresistible enough to tempt the devil himself.

An immoral woman preying on youngsters should show some signs of dissipation on her face. She shouldn’t have skin like rose petals, and unclouded eyes. He poured another glass of brandy and sipped slowly while bizarre scenes of love and hate reeled around in his brain.

Much later, but while he was still able to walk, Avedon went up to his bed. Evening had given way to night. Lady Sara had retired, and the house was in darkness. A glance at his watch told him it was midnight. He slept in his jacket and trousers. In the morning he awoke with a thundering headache and called for cold bathwater and a basin of hot water for shaving. After making a fresh toilette, he felt somewhat better but still unsettled as to how to handle Mrs. Percy.

His sister was at the table, awaiting her mail. “You look wretched today, Adrian,” she said, scanning the smudges under his eyes. “I hope these bouts with the bottle are not a common occurrence, dear. Brandy is slow death. You have your duties to think of. Rattling off to Seaview with the widow may be your idea of handling her, but I must own, we all found it extremely odd.”

“And how did we learn I took Mrs. Percy to Seaview?”

“Tony called on her. The chaperon told him. Lady Beatrice and I popped down to Milhaven in the afternoon to tell them what we had learned of the widow.” As she spoke, she lavished butter and jam on a bun. “Isabel is such a peagoose, she lets Tony lead her by the nose. She did not censure him as strongly as one could wish, I fear. Tony planned to visit the widow the moment she returned. That wicked creature will get her talons into him yet if we do not get rid of her. What explanation did she give for feeding us such a parcel of lies?” She took a bit of her bun and chewed with relish.

“No explanation,” he said. It did not till that moment occur to him that the subject had not even arisen.

“She hasn’t a word to say for herself, eh? I trust she at least had the decency to offer to leave, now that her character is publicly known. At least she reneged on dinner at Milhaven. Tony dropped by last night and told me.”

“I don’t know what her plans are. She ... left rather suddenly,” he said. His face assumed an alarming shade of red at the memory.

Lady Sara set down her bun and frowned. “How could she leave Seaview alone? Surely she did not take the common stage! Why, she would have to get to Dover first.”

“No, she ... found a carriage,” Avedon said, for he could not trust himself to tell the truth without losing his temper and breaking all the dishes.

“I’m sure we are well within our rights to ask her to leave,” Lady Sara said. “If she remains, we may kiss Tony’s fortune good-bye. It is obviously you, as the head of the house, who must do it, Avedon.”

Avedon felt a strange reluctance to do anything of the sort. It would come down to a naming argument, calling names, if Mrs. Percy even agreed to see him. She had the signed contract for the lease of the cottage, so he could hardly have a bailiff shove her out. Yet the woman must go. He decided the more rational chaperon was the one to talk to.

Lady Sara interrupted her eating to say, “You can tell her not a decent lady in the neighborhood will speak to her. I wonder if we might get the vicar to hint her away from church.”

“A nice Christian attitude for a deacon’s wife to take. I’ll put it to Miss Percy.”

“She ought to be exposed in the most public way imaginable as a lesson for other wayward girls. Brazen baggage. Her sort ought to be whipped at the cart’s tail. She shan’t get a penny of the five hundred back, either. You had the expense of using a dozen men to dig up the road. Let her rent pay for it.”

“Try if you can control your greed and ill humor, Sally. I wonder where Miss Percy comes into all this. If
she
is an actress or an adventuress, I give up on my own judgment.”

“I wonder ...”

Avedon looked at her with interest. “What?”

“Is it possible she tricked Miss Percy into thinking she was married to the captain, to get herself a decent chaperon?”

“It cannot be that. His sister must know Captain Percy is alive. She could be the girl’s mother—”

“That’s who she is,” Sally said. “The pair of them are wasting their time looking for a husband for the chit. They would do better to apply to Drury Lane. They are as fine a pair of actors as I have ever been privileged to witness. Oh, hurry, Adrian. I am dying to hear what she says.”

Avedon rose immediately from the table but did not rush off to do his unpleasant duty. He dallied in his study for half an hour, thinking and pacing, till his sister came and hustled him out the door. All the way down the main road and up the access road to Rose Cottage he walked his horse at a slow pace, trying to explain Mrs. Percy’s behavior in some rational manner.

If she was a lightskirt, why had she spurned the advances of the richest man in the country? She told him she came here to get away from a man. Where did that fit into her story, or was it pure fabrication, to make him jealous?

She knew she had engaged his interest at the ball; he hadn’t done much to conceal it. But it wasn’t a lover she was after; it was a husband. She didn’t display any reluctance when she had the temerity to think he was offering marriage.