Chapter 6
Lang, the butler, ushered Lucy and Susan into the drawing room along with the children. They all stood in a line, with Eleanor between the ladies and the boys standing in order of age, Ben, holding Jonathan’s hand since, at the age of just four, he was incapable of standing still for any length of time.
It seemed like they were to be kept waiting and Ben started to speak. “Mith Buttawuth, when a we…?”
The door clicked open and Ben shrank back behind Jonathan. Lucy could not blame him. If Susan had been taller than her, she may have done the same thing herself.
“Miss Butterworth, Miss Davis, boys, Eleanor, it is a pleasure to have you come and stay with me. I assume you are taking me up on the offer of a month to consider the options I laid before you, Miss Butterworth?”
Lucy curtseyed as did Susan.
“We have, My Lord. If that is still acceptable.”
“Of course it is. Lang, show Miss Davis and the children to their rooms. I wish to speak to Miss Butterworth in the library.”
“Yes milord.”
The butler ushered everyone else out, with Miss Davis casting a wary look over her shoulder. Lucy was not concerned. It was broad daylight and she would insist the door was left open. He ushered her across the massive foyer to an austere but large library.
“Please take a seat.” She noted that he had not even attempted to close the door. That made Lucy feel a little better. “Have you thought more about my proposal?”
“My answer was no two days ago and will remain no.”
He sat back in his chair and considered her as he twirled a letter opener between the fingers of both hands. “You liked my touch.”
She caught his gaze. “I do not know what you mean.”
“The other day in the drawing room. One touch of your neck and you moaned. It means you want me.”
“You surprised me.”
He chuckled. “Come now Miss Butterworth. Or may I be so bold as to ask your permission to call you Lucy when we are alone?”
“My Lord…”
“Robert…please.”
“That is far too familiar.”
“Not familiar enough for my liking.”
“You are impossible.”
“Impossible to resist, Lucy. I do beg you. Miss Butterworth is such a cumbersome name and Lucy is such… a pretty name. It matches your beauty.”
Lucy wanted to roll her eyes. That was pathetic. “Really, My Lord, what was that?”
“What was what?”
“Was that an attempt to be romantic?”
“I thought young ladies liked romance. You all go on about Byron and his ilk.”
“Byron? Do you mean the poet?”
“Of course. The ladies all love him and lament his defection to Italy.”
“I have never met the man and do not wish to do so.”
“So, you are not a fan of the poets?”
“I did not say that, My Lord. I prefer Mrs Mary Robinson to Lord Byron, personally.”
His eyebrows rose, and she felt a sense of real satisfaction that she had shocked him somewhat.
“She was a rather scandalous creature in her time, was she not?”
“Only because men fear strong women.”
“And you think she was a strong woman? She was an actress.”
“She had a voice and she used it and men abhor that. She is an inspiration.”
“You know what they say about actresses and lightskirts, do you not?”
“That they are one and the same? They also say that aristocrats are wife-beaters, cruel and use their valets to father their children. Lucky for you we do not all listen to idle gossip.”
“You have a sharp tongue, young lady.”
“No sharper than yours, My Lord.”
“Then we would be well-matched in marriage.”
“Either that or one of us would be dead within a month.”
“An excellent way to go though, is it not?”
Lucy had to prevent a smile from forming on her lips. “I think not, My Lord.”
“Then you are still refusing my proposal?”
“Indeed I am. Though I am holding out for a better settlement for the children.”
“And how do you hope that I shall be convinced to give the children a better settlement.”
“I do not believe you have a heart completely composed of stone, My Lord. I hope that the children shall burrow inside and perhaps find your conscience.”
“I have no conscience, My Lady. I can assure you.”
“If you had no conscience, you would not have housed Lady Rutherford and the baby Lord Rutherford over the winter when that vile man wanted to hurt them.”
“How do you know about that?”
“The newspaper scandal sheets. I used to read them to my great aunt. Tell me, what did you think of the new Duke of Hartsmere. Now that was a romantic story.”
“I am not becoming a servant just so you can save me, my dear.” He stood and straightened his breeches before extending his hand to her. “Now, since you are not going to do me the honour of accepting my proposal now, then I cannot insinuate myself upon your person and demand a kiss yet—which is a dashed shame. Instead, I shall show you to your bedchamber.”
Her stomach lurched at the very thought.
“My Lord that is…”
“I shall escort you as far as the door—not inside the bedchamber itself. I have not lost every shred of decency, though, I must admit, I am losing a certain amount of my sense around you. You are somewhat beguiling, Lucy.”
“My Lord, I did not give you leave to use my given name.”
“A closed carriage.”
“A what?”
“I shall give you a closed carriage and two horses to convey the children in if you allow me to use your given name.”
“That is blackmail.”
“That is how one does business, Lucy or Miss Butterworth.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine, you may call me by my given name.”
His grin was almost boyish. “How much for a kiss?”
“Your entire estate.”
“I believe I can haggle you down to a lower price, Lucy. Soon, you shall want to pay me for a kiss.”
“I would not wager your estate on it, My Lord. It may belong to me and the children soon.”
He cupped her chin and leaned close. So close she thought he was going to kiss her. Her body tingled with excitement and fear.
“Or you may be mine soon. It could go either way, Lucy, if the speed of your breathing is any indication to your state of arousal. Come, to your bed… chamber.” With a wicked grin he stepped back and offered her his sleeve. Lucy swallowed hard, doing her utmost to pretend he’d had no effect on her whatsoever. That said, it was just as well she was clinging to his sleeve because her knees seemed to be made of water as she climbed the stairs. Lord Whitsnow however behaved like the perfect gentleman and left her outside her bedchamber door.