‘I was eighteen two weeks ago,’ Lucy said and hardly dared to look at him. He would think her a hoyden, and in truth she was. ‘Mama is to take me to London in a few weeks for my first Season.’
‘You surprise me. I had thought you younger. You will need to curb your inclinations for tree climbing once you are introduced into London society, young lady, otherwise you will incur the censure of its hostesses, and that would be a shame. It would be a pity if you did not meet with the success you deserve.’ He turned to look at the dog. ‘Brutus, follow!’
He gave his reins a flick and rode off, following the drive round to the stable block, which was away to the right. The dog trotted behind obediently and Lucy drew a breath of relief as she fled back across the lawns to the safety of the house.
She was certain she knew who the gentleman was, though she had not seen him since Marianne’s wedding. Her pulses raced, because she had not expected that Lord Harcourt would come to the christening. He was, of course, one of Drew’s best friends, but she had not met him here before and had not thought him in the habit of visiting.
Oh, why did it have to be he who found her in the tree? Lucy bit her lip in vexation, because she knew that he had thought the incident amusing. And, indeed, she did feel very foolish. She wished that she had not been caught in such an undignified situation. He must think her a foolish little girl—and in truth she had behaved like one! Lucy’s cheeks were warm as she went into the house, running upstairs to her own room. She must make sure that her gown was not dirty or torn before she rejoined the company! But she feared that the damage was already done.
Lucy did not see Lord Harcourt again until she came down for dinner that evening. He had changed into formal dress and looked impressive in his black coat and breeches, his shirt a pristine white rivalled only by the snowiness of his cravat, which had been tied in an intricate design. Since she knew he had arrived alone, she wondered if he had tied it himself, but of course his valet might have come on with his baggage in a coach.
She felt nervous as he looked in her direction, but gave no indication that they had met earlier. He was standing with Drew and Marianne at that moment, clearly at home with them, laughing at something Marianne had said to him. She hesitated, afraid to join the little group, though she longed to know if she was right about his identity.
‘Ah, there you are, my dearest,’ Mrs Horne said, smiling at her. ‘Have you met Lord Harcourt yet? He arrived too late for the service, but Marianne said he has been very generous. He gave her some beautiful pearls to keep for Andrea’s sixteenth birthday and also a piece of silver for herself. Was that not kind of him?’
‘Yes, it was,’ Lucy said, trembling inside. She watched him as he moved away from Drew, going to speak to some of the other guests. Her memory of him was not quite accurate, because she had remembered him as very handsome, but he was not truly so. He was tall and strongly built, and there was no evidence of fat; his hair was dark, cut short and brushed forward in a fashionable peak. His features were classical, a little harsh perhaps, his nose aristocratic. No, not as handsome as either Drew Marlbeck or Hal Beverley, but attractive just the same. She did not know what it was about him that had made her remember him until he suddenly looked at her with his serious grey eyes and her heart jolted. ‘Very kind, Mama.’
‘Come and meet him, dearest,’ her mother said. ‘I would not wish you to be backward in any attention to Lord Harcourt. I know Drew thinks very highly of him.’
‘Yes, Mama. I remembered that he was of service to both Drew and Hal.’ She understood from her sisters that Captain Manton, as he had been known then, was a very brave and clever man. Manton was one of his family names, for as a peer he had many, and if what Drew had told her was true, he had not hesitated to use others that were false in the pursuit of his duty as a secret agent.
Lucy was trembling inside as she followed her mother to join the little group. The ladies were smiling and laughing up at him, especially Miss Angela Tremaine. She was a redhead, extremely beautiful, and a considerable heiress, and she seemed much taken with Lord Harcourt.
Lucy stood silently as her mama made the introductions, her cheeks slightly pink. She knew that people said she was a very pretty girl, because of her silvery blonde hair and azure eyes, but she felt at a disadvantage beside the vibrancy of Miss Tremaine. Surely he would think her an insipid child against such ravishing beauty?
‘Miss Lucy Horne?’ Lord Harcourt smiled down at her. ‘I seem to recall that we might have met at Drew’s wedding. I believe you fetched me a piece of wedding cake and then ate it yourself.’
Lucy flushed but gave him an indignant look. ‘You told me I should eat it, for you did not eat cake, sir!’
‘So I did,’ Jack Harcourt said and gave a husky chuckle, which sent little shivers winging through Lucy’s entire body. ‘Do you still eat two portions of cake, Miss Horne? If you do, I cannot see where it goes, for you are a sylph and as pretty as a picture.’
Lucy smiled at the compliment, and yet it was the way an indulgent uncle would speak to his young niece, which gave her a sense of disappointment. It was obvious that he still saw her as a child and not a young lady about to make her début in society. She knew that he must be several years her senior, but she did not see why he should treat her as a child and it touched a raw nerve. Just because she had climbed into a tree, it did not mean she was a little girl!
Fortunately for Lucy, she was spared the necessity of making a reply, because dinner was announced and Lord Harcourt offered his arm to Miss Tremaine. Lucy accompanied her mother into the dining room, stifling the little pang of jealousy she felt as she watched Lord Harcourt being attentive to his dinner partner, holding her chair and smiling as she settled down.
Lucy found herself sitting opposite them, between two elderly gentlemen, both of whom were great friends of Drew’s. They went out of their way to engage Lucy in conversation and after a few minutes she had forgotten her embarrassment earlier and was laughing and answering their teasing questions. Her eyes were alight with laughter and she could have had no idea of how enchanting she looked, nor did she consider that, seated as she was, it gave Lord Harcourt a perfect view of her.
Hearing a sudden burst of laughter from across the table, Jack’s eyes were drawn to Lucy’s face. She had seemed an awkward child earlier, but now she sparkled, responding to the gentlemen on either side of her in a way that was entirely charming. Jack thought that she reminded him a little of his sister as she had been when she was a young girl, innocent, full of the joy of living and lovely. The thought brought a frown to his face, his eyes narrowing, making him look severe. Amelia had lost the joy of living some time ago.
When Lucy glanced across at him what she saw was disapproval and it made her cheeks warm. What had she done that he should look at her that way? She had always remembered him as being charming and kind, for at Marianne’s wedding he had been kind to her, but now he looked as if he disliked her. She raised her head, pride coming to her rescue.
She knew that she had behaved badly earlier; she ought not to have climbed into a tree, and must have revealed much more than was decent as she climbed down from it—but surely she did not deserve to be looked at in that way? She turned to her neighbour, who was asking her what she thought of Lord Byron’s latest poem, determined not to let anyone see that she was hurting inside.
What a fool she had been to keep Lord Harcourt’s image in her mind all this time! He had been her hero, the prince she had dreamed of as a child when she had read all those fairy stories. Now she decided that he was proud and cold, and she decided that
