The Unexpected Duchess (22 page)

Lucy busied herself arranging the plates of bread, fruit, and cheese on the blanket in front of them.

Derek cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice you were reading a letter earlier, when you came into the drawing room.”

A wide smile spread across Lucy’s face. “Yes. Yes. I was.”

“And the letter pleased you?”

She glanced up at him, wrinkling her nose. What did he care? In fact the letter had been from Lord Berkeley and had been the nicest, sweetest, kindest, funniest, most clever letter she’d ever received. Not too overly solicitous, not too sentimental, not too sweet. It had been exactly what she’d known Lord Berkeley was capable of. He’d told her how much he enjoyed spending time with her and mentioned a variety of topics, all of which kept her thoroughly entertained. Obviously Lord Berkeley was a man of letters, not words. He was the sort who had a penchant for writing. Of course he was. He was an intellectual. Something Derek knew nothing about. “Yes, it did please me.”

“Who was it from?”

She smiled at him sweetly. “None of your business.”

Derek took another slow sip of wine. “Let me guess. Berkeley?”

She widened her eyes. “How did you—? Oh very well, it was from Lord Berkeley.” If Derek was going to be jealous over Christian—ooh, the thought of his given name sent a little thrill through her—then he may as well know the man was quite interested in her. Quite.

“Why can’t I picture Berkeley sitting down to write a letter?” Derek said, setting his wine glass aside and leaning forward to pop a grape into his mouth.

Lucy put her hands on her hips. “That just shows how much you know. His letter was beautifully written.”

“Beautifully?” he asked, a sardonic expression on his handsome face.

Lucy longed to wipe it off. “Yes, beautifully. He’s obviously extremely well educated, not to mention humorous, wise, and witty.”

“Witty?” Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “Wise
and
witty?”

She nodded. “Yes. Extremely witty.”

“I may have to read this letter.” He popped another grape into his mouth.

“You most certainly may not.” She cut two pieces off the end of the loaf of bread, placing one slice onto a plate for herself and the other on Derek’s plate.

His grin was unrepentant. “Careful, Lucy, you don’t want your sharp tongue to scare this one off.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes on him. “I’ve been doing an excellent job of keeping my tongue in check around Lord Berkeley, Your Grace. It’s
you
I have trouble being cordial to.”

“Don’t I know it?”

Did he just wink at her?

“I can’t help it,” Lucy replied. “Some of the things I say … I’ve always been blunt. It’s been a curse since birth. Well, since childhood at least.”

His intense green eyes narrowed on her. “Why since childhood? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head and reached for a cluster of dark purple grapes.

“I’d like to know,” he answered softly.

Something about the tender way he said it made Lucy want to answer him. She pushed a grape into her mouth and chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. “I … my brother died when we were children.”

A small spark of surprise flashed through his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he replied, still looking at her intently. “Is that who you were speaking of, who you’d lost, that day we went riding in Hyde Park?”

Lucy nodded.

“What happened to him?” Derek’s voice was solemn.

Lucy looked away. It made her a bit uneasy. For the first time in her life, she felt as if someone was actually listening to her. Truly listening. The way Derek looked at her, kept his attention focused on her, asked her these difficult questions. No one had ever seemed to truly care before. It was a bit disconcerting.

She took a deep breath. She hadn’t shared this story with anyone. Well, Garrett, and Cass, and Jane knew of course, but she hadn’t told anyone else. Not ever. “We both got the fever. We were sick for months. Ralph died. I survived.”

Derek nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Lucy,” he murmured again.

Lucy took a sip of her wine. “Yes, well. The wrong child died. At least as far as my parents were concerned.”

Derek cursed softly under his breath. His gaze captured hers. “You can’t mean that.”

She glanced away, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s all right. I knew they wanted my brother to live. And believe me, I would have traded places with him if I could have.”

“How old were you?” His eyes still watched her intently. He was listening to her answers as if he truly cared.

She swallowed. “Seven.”

He reached lightly across the blanket and touched the top of her hand. “That’s awfully young to take on such guilt.”

She pulled her hand away slowly, self-consciously. “I had no choice.”

He watched her again with those intense, knowing eyes. “Were your parents bad to you?”

She smiled a humorless smile. “No. In some ways I wish they would have been. It would have made it easier to bear, I think. Instead they just ignored me. It was as if I didn’t exist. As if they had no children after that.”

“That’s wrong,” Derek said softly. “Ignoring a child is the worst sort of cruelty.”

Lucy sucked in her breath. For the first time in her life she’d actually had someone say those words to her. She’d felt it in her heart her entire life, that her parents’ treatment of her after her brother’s death had been wrong, but she’d never had another person, another living being, acknowledge it. It felt good. It finally felt freeing. She gave him a wan smile. “Thank you for that.”

“It is. It’s wrong. I’m sorry that happened to you. I cannot imagine how difficult your childhood must have been.”

She shrugged. “I did what any ignorant child would have and went about trying to get my parents’ attention any way I could, by performing acts of bravery and defiance. I tried to be the boy they no longer had.”

His brow creased. “How did you do that?”

“I challenged boys to duels. I rode horses astride. I fished. I shot. I even asked my father if I could go to Eton.” She nibbled on a bit of cheese.

Derek smothered a smile. “You did not.”

She sighed. “I’m afraid I did.”

He propped up his knee and rested his wrist atop it. “What did your father say to that?”

“He called the governess and told her to remove me from his study immediately.” Lucy took another small bite of cheese.

Derek shook his head. “And so you grew up and developed a penchant for bluntness?”

“Yes. I had few females to learn from really. My mother completely ignored me, my aunt allowed me to do anything I pleased, and my governess barely paid attention. I was entirely preoccupied with attempting to turn myself into a boy. I became far too blunt.”

“How did you become friendly with Lady Cassandra?” He looked genuinely curious.

The question about Cass reminded Lucy why they were there. Derek was not her beau. He was Cass’s. And she would do well to remember that. She leaned back, bracing her hands behind her against the soft grass under the blanket, and sighed. “Cass is an angel. She lived at the neighboring estate. I’d ride my horse over and spend time with her. She’s the only girl of my age who didn’t scorn me and think I was far too crass in my manners and appearance.”

He grinned. “How did her mother react to that?”

Lucy snorted softly. “Oh, Cass’s mother has never cared a bit for me, I’m afraid. In fact, my original intention in going over to their estate was to attempt to get Owen to play with me.”

“Owen?”

“Cass’s older brother.”

“And did he?”

“No. He was always perfectly nice but Lady Moreland insisted I stay away from him.”

“And not her daughter?”

“Cass took one look at me and thought she might help me be more ladylike, I presume, because we did become fast friends. She sees the best in everyone. Especially me. I’ve always been a mess. Other young ladies’ mamas wouldn’t even let them consort with me. But Cass has always been loyal to me.”

“And you’re loyal to her?”

Lucy swallowed. “Forever.”

Derek nodded. “I see. That’s why you’ve stood up for her so vehemently when I began coming around?”

Lucy straightened up and traced the edge of the blanket with her fingertip. “Yes. That’s why. I love Cass. As I said, I would do anything for her.”

He drew his wrist away from his knee. “What about your other friend? Jane, is it?”

Lucy smiled brightly. “Ah, Janie joined our merry band a bit later. She was a societal outcast like me, so we became friends at our debut ball.”

Derek raised both brows. “An outcast?”

Lucy sighed. “Yes. It’s a little-known fact, but I was escorted out of the queen’s chambers when I made my bow.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “You were?”

“Indeed. I didn’t take kindly to the simpering and fawning. I ripped the feathers out of my insanely elaborate coiffure and tossed them on the floor at the queen’s feet.”

“You did not.” His wide smile belied the surprised look on his face.

“Yes. I did. Mama said she refused to have anything more to do with my come-out after that. She went back to the country and left me with Aunt Mary.”

“And was Jane escorted from the queen’s chambers as well?”

“No. No. Jane did as she was told. Though she later informed me that she thought I’d been brilliant. She’s simply much more interested in studying and learning than becoming someone’s wife.”

“And Lady Cassandra, she accepted both of you the way you are?”

Lucy tossed another bit of cheese into her mouth and nodded. “Unconditionally, that’s why we’re both devoted to her. Cass could be friends with absolutely anyone. Her connections and manners are impeccable. Everyone adores her. But she chooses to spend her time with the two of us and we love her for that.”

“I can understand that,” Derek replied. “Loyalty cannot be overvalued.”

Lucy glanced away, staring at the rolling hills beyond the town. “That’s why you’re so set on courting Cass? Because you promised Julian and you’re loyal to him?”

He nodded. “Yes. Swift was extremely agitated to think she wouldn’t be taken care of. He knew she hadn’t yet accepted a suitor.”

Lucy expelled her breath. “And Julian never guessed why?”

Derek shrugged. “If he did, he didn’t mention it to me. Though Julian is an honorable man. If he’s pledged to another, he will make good on that pledge regardless of his feelings for Cassandra.”

Lucy nodded. “I suppose that’s to be commended, but I think it’s awfully sad.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because what if Julian loves Cass, too? What if they are meant to be together? I’ve met Cass’s cousin Penelope. The girl doesn’t have a brain in her head. She’s much more interested in fripperies and fashion than Julian. She’s more concerned with gathering her trousseau than worrying whom she’ll actually be spending the rest of her life with. When she wrote Cass to tell her that Julian was dying, she was devastated, not by news of his impending death, but by the prospect of having to find a new bridegroom.”

Derek nodded grimly. “That may be so, but Swift’s made his decision.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “And so that’s it, decisions cannot be changed?”

“No.”

The answer surprised her, but the vehemence in his voice surprised her more. The man put a great deal of stake on never changing one’s mind, obviously.

Lucy shrugged. “Well, I, for one, hope Julian lives, returns to England, and marries Cass.”

Derek smiled at that. “Why, Lucy, do I detect a bit of a romantic in you?”

She popped a grape into her mouth and smiled. “I cannot help it. I detest stupidity. And it just seems stupid to become engaged to someone whom you don’t love or care about merely because your parents believed it would be a good match when you were young.”

He pointed a finger in the air. “Ah, but that is how the
ton
works, does it not?”

“Yes. It does. But it ought not. I understand that not all marriages are based on love. But they ought to be based on more than just an old promise and handshake. Especially if Julian and Cass might be truly happy together.”

Derek leaned back, bracing both elbows on the blanket. “To your knowledge has Julian ever indicated that he has feelings for Cassandra?”

Lucy studied the blanket. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Then perhaps you’re assuming too much.”

She plucked at the grass next to her feet. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I just wish the best for my friend.” She shook her head. “At any rate, it hardly matters when it sounds as if Julian won’t be returning. My heart is broken for Cass.”

A grim nod. “Julian was … is a good man.”

Lucy nodded solemnly, too. She cleared her throat, needing to say something to return the conversation to its earlier pleasantness. “Thank you very much for the picnic, Your Grace. It’s too bad Cass was ill and you were forced to suffer my company.”

He popped a grape into his mouth. “I’m not having such a bad time with you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Another letter?” Garrett asked, strolling into the breakfast room the next morning. Jane had been nowhere to be found all morning, and Cass was still in her sickbed. Lucy had been eating alone, since Aunt Mary usually took her breakfast much earlier. But this morning Lucy hadn’t minded being alone. She’d just received another wonderful letter from Lord Berkeley.

“Yes.” Lucy nodded happily.

Garrett made his way to the sideboard and loaded ham, eggs, cheese, and toast onto a plate. Then he came to sit next to Lucy. “Ah, young love. It’s a wonderful thing.”

Lucy slapped at his shoulder. “Stop it. I’m not in love.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. I’ve only barely met him. Though he does seem rather nice. And his letters are”—she sighed—“amazing.”

Garrett furrowed his brow. “Never knew Berkeley had it in him, to be honest. He wasn’t much of a writer at university.”

“I cannot believe that,” Lucy replied, rereading one of her particularly favorite passages. “Just listen to this part—” She opened her mouth to speak, but Garrett dropped his fork and clapped both hands over his ears. “No. No. I cannot listen to a love note written by one of my closest friends to my own cousin. Please do not attempt to subject me to such torture.”