Thank the heavens Lucinda had not just taken a sip of tea. She would have spit it out. “What?”
“I agreed that you would have a Season.” A frown appeared on her mother’s face. “It has been over a month. I should think that would be time enough.”
It would never be time to wed Quorndon. “I thought you were enjoying seeing your old friends again.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Mama said, her tone tight. Taking a sip of tea, her mother made a face. “I want to see you settled.”
Someone must have said or done something to make her mother want the betrothal to take place so soon. Anger warred with the sense of dread that she would be stuck in a horrible marriage. She had to do something. Lucinda set her cup down and rose. “I have no desire to wed Lord Quorndon. In fact, I cannot think of a worse match for either of us.”
Her mother’s eyes widened before she assumed a cold mask through which Lucinda could see nothing. The only sign of Mama’s anger was the sound of the fine bone china cup clinking as her mother put it down.
“You have one week before I make the betrothal public.”
“Good day, Mother.” Lucinda curtseyed and strode toward the door.
“Lucinda,”—her mother’s voice stopped her—“I will not have you driving with Lord Elliott. He is not for you. In the future, I shall expect you to accompany Lord and Lady Quorndon if you wish for a carriage ride.”
There it was. The catalyst Lucinda needed.
She would not lie to her mother, and therefore chose not to respond.
Straightening her shoulders, she left the parlor and headed straight to the desk in her bedchamber. Pulling out a sheet of fine pressed paper, she made sure her pen was sharpened, dipped it into the standish, and began to write.
My dear Arabella,
I will do as you suggest. I propose that we attend Lady Talgath’s party tomorrow. I shall speak with my brother and sister-in-law about taking the duchess’s landau. I am sure she w ill not object.
Yr friend,
Lucinda
Less than an hour later, Louisa had agreed to not only allow Lucinda the use of her carriage, but to accompany her as well.
“I’ll have Rothwell invite Elliott and Quorndon to come with us.” Louisa put her arm around Lucinda, hugging her. “You know that I wish you good luck in this venture. However, you must be prepared if it does not turn out as you desire.”
“I know.” She had hung all her hopes on Lord Elliott. Yet she had the sinking feeling she might be disappointed.
The only comforting thought was that she was fairly sure her friend would succeed with Quorndon, so she would not have to marry him.
Gerald frowned. Lucinda looked miserable. Not that anyone else would notice. She had a polite expression on her face, but her eyes lacked their sparkle, and her usual joie de viv re was missing.
Over the past few weeks, they had become friends, his feeling that she could be the lady for him had grown stronger. In fact, he was quite sure he had fallen in love with her. When they were apart, not an hour went by that he didn’t think of her and what she’d be doing. Therefore, he noticed what others did not. He’d do anything to make her happy again.
They were attending an event at Lady Talgath’s estate outside of Town, which was famed for her bluebell meadow. Massive trees dotted the grounds, benches had been placed to provide shade and a small amount of privacy, and a path wound around an ornamental lake. The sounds of birds mingled with the laughter of young ladies.
He had ridden with her brother and Quorndon—they had given him the option of traveling in the carriage, but he chose to ride. At least he kept his seat. She had driven in the landau with her sister-in-law and Miss Marlow. Thankfully, neither of their mothers were present.
Once they arrived, Quorndon had gone off with Miss Marlow to stroll around the lake. Unfortunately, Gerald did not know if his lordship intended to ask for the lady’s hand in marriage. Was that why Lucinda was so upset? Did she believe Quorndon would not ask Miss Marlow to marry him? Or was it another gentleman? Her mystery gentleman?
He led Lucinda toward one of the many wrought iron benches placed to encourage one to enjoy the plantings. It was next to a tree with wide branches, offering some seclusion. “I’ve never seen you look so blue-deviled. Tell me what is wrong.”
A slight frown turned down the corners of her rosy lips as she glanced at him. “If I cannot confide in you, there is no one.” She heaved an unhappy sigh. “I am determined not to marry Quorndon. But my mother is pressuring me to allow her to announce our betrothal and making me feel like the most horrible, ungrateful daughter that she ever had the misfortune to bear. I thought she had married for love, but it was an arranged match that turned into love.” She threw one hand in the air. “She does not understand that I do not wish for her to select my husband.”
It wasn’t surprising that the dowager duchess would use guilt where a more forceful method would not suffice. Did Lucinda feel the same for him as he did for her? Was now the time to find out?
After all, she had not mentioned her mystery gentleman in quite a while. Had she changed her mind about the man? Could she now be in love with him?
Gerald paused beneath the lower branches of the tree and took a breath. “Is there anyone you would like to marry?”
She gazed at him, staring into his eyes as if she could find the answer in them. “There might be.”
A spark of hope ignited in him. Is it I? Taking her hand, he drew her around the trunk of the tree where no one could see them. “Might be?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly and their eyes met and locked. The yearning in hers threatened to unman him. “He has become a trusted friend, and I very much enjoy spending time with him. Yet I do not know if he feels the same way about me. That we could, perhaps, have something deeper than friendship. I do not know if there is that sort of passion between us, or if it could develop.”
Was it, indeed, him? Had he been blind for weeks? His boots brushed her skirts as he stepped closer. “How do you propose to discover if this friend wants something more?”
“I do not know.” Her head tilted slightly, but her gaze never left his. “I am leaving it to him to inform me.”
Gerald’s gaze dropped to her lips as she licked them. He wanted to draw her into his arms. “And the passion.” More than anything else in the world, he wanted to taste her. “Do you think a kiss would be enough for you to know?”
“I think it might be. I have never been kissed.”
“Lucinda,”—he placed his hands on her waist, savoring the soft swell of her hips—“kiss me.” Not giving her a chance to answer, he pressed his lips to hers, feathering lightly, willing her to respond. To his immense relief, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. Slanting his head, he trailed his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open for him. On a soft sigh, their tongues met and danced together as flames of passion licked his skin, making him want more.
If only he could take her somewhere more private. He drew her firmly into his arms.
Mine .
The word echoed in his brain. No matter what battles they had to fight, they would be together. He would do whatever he had to do to ensure their future.
Their kiss turned heated, searing every fiber of his being. Never had he experienced anything like it—the need for her was more vital than his next breath. He couldn’t stop his hands from moving closer to her breasts, just enough that he was able to cup them, caress them with his thumbs, and feel her nipples harden under his touch. Finally, he’d come home.
Frissons of pleasure coursed through Lucinda as Elliott stroked her back before sliding his hand over her derrière. Heat coalesced between her legs. She had hoped she would enjoy kissing, but she never guessed it could be so wonderful, stealing her every thought until everything faded but him, and the pleasure of his touch.
Thank the Fates that Gerald’s feelings for her matched hers for him. She had been afraid that she would have to initiate their first kiss. That would have been awkward. Especially if he had not responded. Yet not only had he initiated the kiss, but his every taste, touch, took her beyond any sensation she could have imagined.
They were so close his heart and hers beat together as one. His light touch on her breasts made her moan with pleasure. One of his large, strong hands pressed her into him.
Giving into her desire, she rose onto her tiptoes.
He groaned, then broke their kiss.
“What is it? Did I do something I should not have?”
“No, you did nothing wrong.” His voice was low, harsh. “Someone is coming.”
After all the time Lucinda had waited, this was not at all fair. “Well… well, drat.”
His laugh was short and harsh, and she smiled. “Drat indeed.” He stepped back and studied her. “You’ll do. Is my cravat a mess?”
“Slightly crushed, but I think I can fix it.” As she smoothed the wrinkled part, she thought how intimate the gesture was. And how much she liked making it.
The voices of a couple strolling nearby caused them to glance at each other. When the voices faded, his hands returned to her waist. “Lucinda?”
Like him, she kept her voice to a whisper. “Yes, Gerald?”
With her hand in his, he dropped to one knee, his gaze holding hers. “I love you. I know we will face difficulties with your mother, but would you make me the happiest man in England and the whole world and marry me?”
Simple and direct, just like the man himself. There would be no games between them. “Yes. I will marry you. I love you too; I’ll love you always.”
“And I’ll always love you.” Rising, he drew her into his arms and kissed her. Once again, their passion flared. “Now we need to find a way to bring our marriage about.”
“Where there is a will, there is a way.” No matter what, she would not allow her mother to keep them apart.
“Lucinda, are you under there?”
“Arabella.” Quorndon admonished her. “It could be anyone.”
“I recognize the trim on her skirts.” Arabella peeked under the wide branches of the tree, a broad smile on her face. “We wanted to tell you first.”
“Good Lord, I cannot believe I’m doing this.” Lord Quorndon ducked in after her. “I have asked Miss Marlow to marry me.”
“One problem down,” Gerald muttered into Lucinda’s ear.
“Congratulations to you both!” Lucinda hugged her friend. “I knew you would be perfect for each other.”
“Yes, indeed.” Gerald shook Lord Quorndon’s hand. “I am very pleased for you.”
Her brows raised in inquiry, Arabella glanced from Lucinda to Gerald.
“Yes, Lord Elliott has just proposed, and I have accepted.” She heaved a sigh. “We just have to gain my mother’s approval.”
“That should not be a problem once we announce our betrothal,” Lord Quorndon said.
Lucinda glanced quickly at Arabella, who grinned. “Yes, he told me.”
“Naturally,” Quorndon continued, “we must speak to Lord St. Claire, but we expect no difficulty from that quarter.”
Her mother would not be pleased. “And I will have to listen to my mother complain about how I failed.”
“Oh, dear.” Arabella pressed her lips together. “Will she go on and on? Is there another way to tell her?”
“Yes. There is.” Gerald’s tone was so commanding they all looked at him. “We will bring Lady Quorndon and your mother together and make the announcements at the same time.”
“Are you having a meeting under here?” Rothwell and Louisa ducked under the branches and joined them. He glanced at Lucinda. “We’ve been looking for you.”
There was no time like the present to find out if her brother would support her. “Lord Quorndon and Miss Marlow have become affianced, and I have accepted Lord Elliott’s proposal of marriage.” Lucinda waited for a show of surprise from her brother, instead a slow smile curved his lips.
Rothwell nodded. “Well, first, allow me to congratulate all of you. I believe the matches you have arranged for yourselves are much better than those my mother attempted to make.”
“Thank you.” Relief washed over Lucinda. Perhaps his support would make Mama change her mind.
“Yes, indeed. I wish you all very happy,” Louisa added. “What have you decided to do, or have you?”
“We have discussed the matter”—Lucinda gestured to the other three—“and have decided to make our announcements to the mothers jointly. After Quorndon speaks with Miss Marlow’s uncle, that is.”
“That will take the wind out of Mama’s sails,” Rothwell commented. “Yet do not expect her to simply give up.”
“I suppose that would be too much to ask.” Louisa pursed her lips.
“There must be options.” Lucinda looked from her brother to her sister-in-law. “Something I can do to force her to allow me to wed Elliott.” Think, think, think. “Rothwell, you and Louisa could accompany us to Scotland. It would not be scandalous if we had you as chaperones.”
“No, my love.” Gerald tightened his arm around her. “The journey would still have to be clandestine, and it would harm not only Rothwell’s reputation, but ours as well.”
Well, drat. “I suppose you are correct.” Lucinda thought some more. “I could refuse to wed another gentleman and wait until I was of age, or until she gave in.”
“Not that I wouldn’t wait for you,” Gerald said, “but I’d prefer to marry sooner rather than later.” He drew his brows together. “I thought she did not like me because she wanted Lucinda to marry a marquis.” He focused on Rothwell. “But that’s not it at all, is it?”
“No.” Lucinda huffed. “She objects to the newness of your title.”
“That makes no sense.” He huffed as if offended. As he should be. “My breeding and bloodlines are as good as yours.”
“As I have tried to explain to her,” Rothwell grumbled. “If this meeting is at an end, shall we head back to Town? The sooner this is resolved, the happier I’ll be.”
“You’re not the only one.” Gerald led Lucinda out from under the tree’s canopy, squinting at the bright sunshine.
“I am extremely pleased that I shall not have these problems with my mother,” Lord Quorndon said. Rothwell gave him a dubious look. “I’m of age. Even if she doesn’t like it, there is nothing she can do.”
“There is that.” Lucinda wished she was of age—or that her mother was not so difficult.
A group of young ladies and gentlemen were passing by on the path when the six of them emerged from under the tree canopy. If Rothwell and Louisa had not been present, Lucinda knew there would have been talk.
As it was, Miss Martindale giggled, and Miss Tice said, “You missed the announcement.”
Lucinda shook her head, not understanding. Mr. Camp, who was escorting Miss Tice, explained. “Lord Beaumont and Lady Serena are betrothed.”
“It must be the bluebells,” Lord Quorndon murmured.
Miss Martindale’s eyes rounded. “I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.” Arabella pinched his arm. “It was nothing worth repeating.”
Lucinda threw her friend a grateful look. None of them could announce their betrothals until later. It would not do for the news to precede them.
Their group lost no time hurrying back to the house and sending for the horses and carriage. Unfortunately, they also had to find Lady Talgath, thank her for the lovely time, and bid her adieu.
“The rest of you can go to the carriage,” Louisa offered. “Rothwell and I will speak with her ladyship. It will be faster.”
Lucinda was in the process of nodding her head when Lady Talgath appeared.
“Must you depart as well? Lord Beaumont and Lady Serena rushed back to Town to tell their families they are betrothed.”
Lucinda smiled politely, but had to fight down the heat growing in her chest and neck. “How delightful for them!”
“It is indeed.” Lady Talgath gazed at Lucinda more closely. “You would not have similar news, would you?” Before she could deny it, the lady cut a look at Arabella, whose face had turned a lovely shade of rose pink. “Oh! Upon my word! Both of you! Who would have guessed that I would have three betrothals at my little party!” In a flutter of shawls and scent, her ladyship embraced both Arabella and Lucinda. “My lords, you are very lucky gentlemen. I wish you all happy.” She ushered them out the door. “Lose no time informing your families. Although I see that Rothwell already knows.”
“If only it were that simple,” he muttered.
“What did you say, your grace?” Lady Talgath asked.
“Nothing at all.” He bowed. “Thank you for inviting us. We enjoyed your party immensely.”
Once they reached the road, Rothwell motioned to the outrider he’d insisted upon having. “Go to Lord Quorndon’s house, and mine. Inform Lady Quorndon and her grace that we will be arriving within the hour and wish to speak with them both at Rothwell House. Tell Fredricks to serve tea when we arrive, and to ready two bottles of champagne to bring at my order, but not before.”
“Yes, your grace.” The footman rode off at spanking pace, dust rising from his horse’s hooves.
“Do you think we will talk Mama around that quickly?” Lucinda asked.
Rothwell grimaced. “She will not have a choice.”