Toblethorpe Manor (11 page)

She smiled. “I often do so by mistake,” she agreed. “It would be so much simpler. I am not sure if I should ask you to call me Lucy. Would it be forward in me?”

They were discussing the matter when the curtain was pulled back and Richard appeared with a thunderous face.

“Lucy!” he hissed, “what the devil do you think you are doing?”

“I was very hot, Richard, and Tony said people would object to the air,” she explained innocently.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he promised grimly. “Here is my friend Brummell. You must go and sit with him and we must hope that no one has noticed your lack of conduct.”

An amused Brummell bore Lucy away. Richard turned on Tony.

“Oh, I cry quits,” he apologized hastily. “Indeed, Richard, Lucy only wanted some air. I should have stopped her, but damme if I can be always contradicting the chit.”

“Of course, I know you would not take advantage of her, Tony,” said Richard, somewhat mollified. “I suppose I am up in the boughs because that dashed major had the infernal impudence to tell me where Lucy was. Said he felt it was not his place to intrude upon you. Dash it, Tony, how could you be so confoundedly thoughtless? I only hope Lady Cowper may not have noticed.”

The guilty Lord Denham apologized again and the two went off to play cards.

No more contretemps marred Lucy’s evening. Beau Brummell sat with her for quite twenty minutes, assuring her success. She waltzed again with Tony, avoiding windows, and enjoyed a gay supper with Major Bowen, Jenny, and her partner. So many young men begged to be presented to her that Richard had not had to do his duty after all. As the carriage rolled home through the quiet streets, she was too sleepy to worry about the lecture she was bound to receive from Richard on the morrow.

Chapter 7

Lucy’s scolding was not very severe. The few people who had noticed her imprudence had then seen Richard and Lord Denham stroll off arm in arm while Lucy chatted happily to Beau Brummell, the last man to countenance any havey-cavey goings-on. Lady Annabel had seen nothing, and nobody had brought it to her attention, so Richard could not even accuse his sister of worrying their mother.

“Do try to be a little more circumspect,” he said with asperity. “You were lucky this time. If it happened again you might easily gain the reputation of being fast.”

“Fustian!” Lucy declared. “When we have known Tony forever! Of course I should not behave so with a mere acquaintance.” She was tempted to try it with the major, but suspected that he would not permit anything so improper.

“You must remember that not everyone knows on what terms we stand with Tony. Indeed I should call it unwise with any man other than myself. Lucy, try to think before you act. You will not wish to distress mama.”

“Oh, Richard, I promise I will try,” she cried in penitence. “I do not mean to fall into such scrapes. It would be odious in me when you are such a good brother and mama is at such pains to give me a wonderful Season.” She hugged him, and he dropped a kiss on her brow.

“Very well then, goosecap, we shall forget it. I hear the knocker. Surely it is early for even the most ardent of your admirers.”

They had just finished breakfast, Lady Annabel having eaten in her room. Shortly, Bell appeared to announce that a hackney piled high with bandboxes had arrived from Chez Lisette.

“My new gowns!” crowed Lucy. “Have them taken up to my chamber, please, Bell. Madame Charmaine promised my hats for this morning, also. Richard, only wait and see how elegant I shall be.”

“Did not a vast number of packages come home with you yesterday?”

“Yes, but they held only stockings, shawls and gloves. And the gown I wore last night, which was completed in a hurry for me. Just wait till you see my riding dress.”

“I cannot wait!” said Richard dryly. “Off you go, now. I hear another carriage drawing up.”

Lucy had barely time to open half the boxes before Lord Denham arrived. She scrambled into the new royal blue velvet riding dress, and hurried downstairs.

“Good morning, Tony,” she greeted him, unabashed by the memory of the night before. “Do you like my new habit?” The train over her arm, she pirouetted before Richard and Tony.

“Charming.” said the latter, “though not half so charming as the young lady wearing it.”

“How charming of you to say so,” giggled Lucy.

“Charming weather, is it not?” said her brother.

Tony laughed. “I am come to ask if you will give me the pleasure of your charming company in the park, as the day is so charming.”

“I should be charmed, only that I am engaged to ride this morning with Major Bowen. Perhaps we shall see you in the park?”

At that moment more visitors were announced. Miss Maria Allenby had called to see Lady Annabel and had met on the steps with two of the young sprigs of fashion who had been made acquainted with Lucy the previous night. Each had brought her a large bouquet and they were glaring at each other like a pair of tomcats.

“Thank you so much, Sir Percy, Mr. Haselton.” Lucy tried to soothe their ruffled feelings. “It is charming of you, I do love flowers.”

“Charming flowers,” murmured Lord Denham provocatively in her ear, and her gravity was nearly overcome.

The next arrivals were Cousin Jennifer and a friend, Miss Melville, escorted by Cousin Edward, whose sartorial magnificence, though stunning to behold, did not compete with his array at the ball. The drawing room was growing crowded and the sound of conversation masked Bell’s announcement of Major Bowen and Captain Lord Harry Graham.

Lucy being much occupied with her two youthful admirers, the officers made their way to Lady Annabel. Miss Allenby had known Harry from the cradle and she and Lady Annabel engaged his attention. Major Bowen went to speak to Richard, who greeted him stiffly.
What a damned persistent fellow
, he was thinking.
A fortune hunter, I’ll be bound.
He had better make inquiries.

Finding no welcome, the major decided to interrupt Lucy’s circle. She was in any case looking rather hunted. He noted that she was wearing a riding dress, very becoming, and hoped that she remembered their engagement.

She smiled up at him as he approached. “Major Bowen,” she said thankfully. “Let me present Sir Percy Driscoll and Mr. Haselton. The major is just now returned from India, gentlemen, with news of a great victory.”

The youths gazed at him in awe, and started to question him about the fighting, their quarrel forgotten. Lucy sighed with relief.

“‘I have not forgot our ride,” she murmured. “Only there are so many people here and I have not spoken to the half of them. Will you wait a little?”

“Forever,” he replied, with such a look that she was breathless once more. He turned what would be a meaningless compliment on the lips of another man into an avowal, she thought.

Seeing her confusion, he rescued her. “However, I trust you will not make me wait so long!”

“Indeed I will not. I must speak with my cousins and then I will come. The horses must have been standing this half-hour.”

Another half-hour found them in the park. Lucy being but lately come to town and the major recently returned after a long absence, neither had much acquaintance to interrupt their talk. The horses picked their way between phaetons and curricles, strollers and riders, until they came to a clear spot.

“I must have a gallop,” cried Lucy. “Poor Star has not stretched her legs since we came to town.”

“I think we had better not, Miss Carstairs,” said the major quietly. “A short canter would be unexceptionable, however.”

Lucy looked rebellious, and he wondered for a moment if he would have to catch her rein. She saw in his face that he would not hesitate to do so and gave in gracefully.

“There are so many rules of conduct in London,” she observed in disgust. “It is a wonder there is anything left to do that is proper.”

He laughed. “Many people consider there is a vast choice of occupations in town, and find it dull in the country.”

“I never was bored at Toblethorpe. You have lived mostly in the country, have you not, until you went to India? Did you not find a deal to occupy you?”

“Oh yes, Miss Carstairs, I prefer a rural life, though I enjoy a few months in fashionable society now and then.”

“Then we are quite agreed. Indeed, I do not mean to complain, I am enjoying London excessively.”

“I think you are not the complaining sort. I do not know which to admire most, the spirit that makes you wish to gallop, the good-natured way you give up an unwise project at a hint, or the picture you present on horseback. Come, let us canter before anyone blocks our path.”

He let Lucy lead by a head, happy to watch her enjoyment, and was relieved to find that his hired hack had not too bad a pace. She drew rein as they again approached the thronged mass of High Society taking the air.

Lord Denham, accompanied by his brother, appeared on his grey mare. “Aha,” called his lordship. “We thought we should never find you. What a crush!”

“Is it not, Tony? Major Bowen and I found a little space and have managed to canter.”

The major was dismayed to hear Lucy addressing Lord Denham by his nickname. He was not left to brood.

“Charles,” said Lord Harry, “you are wanted urgently at the War Office. We met a messenger on the way.”

“Dash it, it must be that meeting with the Prime Minister they warned me about. Miss Carstairs, I shall have to escort you back immediately.”

“Do not trouble yourself,” advised Lord Denham. “Harry and I will see Lucy home.”

The major thanked him, most unwillingly,. He turned in the saddle to say good-bye to Lucy and found her close beside him, holding out her hand.

 As he bowed over it, she said softly, “Shall I see you again soon, sir?”

He raised his eyes to her face and she had so much the appearance of a hopeful puppy begging for a walk that he had to smile as he replied, “I do indeed trust you may. However, I fear that I am going to be kept very busy for a few days. Shall you be at Lady Exeter’s ball?”

“Oh yes, I shall save you a dance.”

“Two,” he proposed, “and one of them a waltz. I dare not ask for the supper dance again so soon,” he added wryly.

She blushed, but answered, “You are too modest, sir. It is yours.”

He pressed her hand, and she withdrew it quickly. She had not realized he still held it, she told herself; then, being an honest young lady, had to admit that perhaps she had known.

Major Bowen bowed to their lordships and rode off.

Tony and Harry had been greeting acquaintances, and now their group was joined by several others. Lucy renewed her acquaintance with a Miss Harvey whom she had met at Almack’s, and was introduced to her brother and two or three other newcomers. How delightful it would be, she thought as she chatted happily, to have a large circle of friends in town. Some of the gentlemen asked her to put their names down for dances at Lady Exeter’s ball, and she was glad the major had already spoken for his two. She wished she dared write him down for a third, but by now she knew him well enough to be sure he would not take it.

Lord Denham rode up beside her. “Are you not tired, Lucy? You have been out for some time.”

“Tony, you know I ride for hours in Yorkshire.”

“In Yorkshire you do not stay out until three in the morning dancing. However, I take it you are not yet ready to return.”

“Well, I am enjoying myself famously but we are to go out visiting this afternoon, so perhaps mama would wish me to go home.”

“Come, then. Harry, do you accompany us?”

“You will excuse me, Miss Carstairs. I believe you will be moderately safe with my brother.” Harry was occupied in flirting with Miss Harvey, a diminutive blond with sparkling blue eyes.

Lucy and Tony made their farewells and departed. The crowds were thinning now. The morning sun was hidden by threatening clouds and the park did not look so inviting.

When they reached Cavendish Square, large drops were falling. Lord Denham hurried her up the steps and kissed her hand warmly.

“I shall call tomorrow,” he said. “If this continues we shall not be able to ride, however.”

“I suppose not. Thank you for your escort, Tony.” Lucy was in a pensive mood. Tony was a delightful companion, amusing and good-natured, so easygoing that he would never try to hold her back from whatever she wanted to do. She was beginning to suspect that he might hold warmer feelings for her than could be accounted for by her being the sister of his bosom-bow. Yet he was too much the gentleman to put her to the blush. Suppose he had taken advantage of her foolishness last night? She wondered if he wanted to marry her. He was rich, heir to a marquis; as his wife she would lead a fashionable life with every luxury.

Yet she felt she had rather follow the drum with a certain gentleman of whom, she feared, her brother disapproved. Entering the drawing room, she heaved a deep sigh.

“My dear!” exclaimed her mother, “are you in the mopes? Come, tell me what is wrong.”

Lucy nearly opened her heart to Lady Annabel, then remembered Richard’s strictures against worrying her mama. “Oh, it is nothing. Simply that it is raining and I shall not be able to ride tomorrow if it continues. It makes the streets look so grey.”

“What, five days in town and already blue-devilled?” asked her brother. She had not noticed him, as he had been standing in the window embrasure, gazing out at the wet square. How lucky she had not explained her sigh!

“You do not look so cock-a-hoop yourself,” she retorted sharply.

“I was thinking of Toblethorpe,” he said. His mother, watching closely, thought that a slight flush colored his dark cheeks as he added hurriedly, “It may be snowing in Yorkshire, you know, and the early lambs will be in danger.”

“I am sure Jeremy and the shepherds are taking good care of them,” said Lady Annabel soothingly. “Lucy, you had better have a bite to eat. We are to call on your Aunt Blanche and Emily Cowper this afternoon, and this evening there is a dress party for Vanessa Arby’s daughter. I do not think you have met her, but I was at school with Lady Arby.”

Lucy brightened. “I had forgot. May I wear the pink sarcenet with cerise ribbons?”