Abandon (2 page)

Aubrey St. Clare, Viscount Lovell, was not in a hurry as he strolled down Bond Street. He had an appointment with his boot maker after ordering his boots he had a few more errands before he stopped at his club. He intended to stop at Lackington Allen’s to peruse for new books for his library. It was a sunny day, and shoppers crowded the streets, browsing the windows and covertly observing other members of the Ton. But Aubrey ignored them all, being much too caught up in his own thoughts to pay them any mind. They were not happy thoughts so the scowl on his face was enough to warn off any who might have thought to interrupt his deliberations. Indeed, two young ladies who might ordinarily have tried to catch his attention turned to each other as they passed him. A display of ribbons seemed much safer to inspect.

His mind was in a whirl and that was not a state in which he was comfortable. He had grown accustomed to the serenity of Italy, the brilliant sunshine on the dark green olive trees, the blue of the Mediterranean Sea. He had lived in solitary comfort, just his housekeeper to tend and cook rustic meals. He was an ordinary man there, an artist and mad Englishman who lived a quiet life.

Forced back to England by the death of his father his tranquility was gone. There was business to take care of, the affairs of his estate, and he needed to look after his mother. Responsibility did not bother him; he knew that and accepted the necessity for it. But Lucy’s appearance at the ball last night had knocked him off his pins. He hadn't got a wink of sleep and had consumed much too much of the brandy in his library. He kept going over and over in his head the conversation he had overheard on the terrace between Lucilla and Carlisle. Then he had ruined a perfectly good canvas, unable to concentrate on the scene he wanted, seeing only Lucy in his mind’s eye, lush and pale in the candlelight.

Why wasn’t she married? Bloody hell, what was the matter with Wakefield? Shouldn’t he have found her a husband by now? He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, regardless of the people passing by him, and closed his eyes as he remembered her appearance at the ball. She was still as beautiful as ever. He groaned and shook his head, then realized where he was and started to walk again, ignoring the stares and whispers behind hands.

A bell chimed as a millinery shop door opened to let two women exit the store. Too late Aubrey recognized Lady Harriet, followed by Lady Lucilla and a maid carrying wrapped parcels.

“Lord Lovell,” Harriet exclaimed. “It is so nice to meet you again and so soon. I do hope that you enjoyed yourself last evening.”

Aubrey nodded his head, not daring to risk a glance at Lucilla. “It was quite enjoyable, Lady Harriet. I trust that you and Aversley also had a pleasurable evening. The ballroom was sparkling, it was such a crush.” Aubrey realized that he was blathering on and took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop. He turned to her companion.

Lucilla was not even looking at him, but was staring fixedly at something further down the street. She gave nothing away, no knowledge that she even knew him, but stood still as a statue. She was lovely in a yellow walking dress, a bonnet tipped with a long green feather trailing off the back, set just so on her thick chestnut hair. Only the small hands fisted within her gloves exposed her tension.

“I trust you have met Lady Lucilla Blount,” Harriet was introducing them. “Lucilla, Viscount Lovell is a dear friend of Aversley and will stand for him at our wedding.”

A flash of memory went through Aubrey’s mind, long pale limbs and chestnut hair tumbling over rounded pink tipped breasts. Oh, yes, he knew her. Sweat was dripping down his back and he could feel the flush on the back of his neck.

“It has been quite a long time, but..,” he got no further. Lucy looked at him square in the eyes, lifted her arm and slapped him hard across the face. Then she pushed past him and strode down the street.

Lady Harriet’s eyes were wide and her face flushed. “Oh dear,” she exclaimed. “I don’t, I mean, I’m not sure…” her voice trailed off helplessly.

Aubrey straightened his shoulders and forced a smile. “I’m sure that she mistook me for someone else. There is a misunderstanding of some sort, I'm sure.” The maid dropped a package, distracting Lady Harriet, and Aubrey bent to aid her and recover himself at the same time.

He handed her the parcel, something soft wrapped in brown paper, and bowed. “I’m sure that you have more errands, so I’ll let you be on your way.” He knew he sounded stilted, but he needed to get away himself. The altercation had attracted the attention of some of the other shoppers and he could sense curious looks.

“Of course, I must catch up with Lady Lucilla.” The incident had flustered poor Harriet. “I hope to meet you again soon. I’m sure that our paths will cross.” She curtsied and hurried off down the street, followed by her maid. Aubrey turned and could just see the feather in Lucilla’s bonnet, where she waited some ways further down the street. He sighed and turned away.

By the time Aubrey reached his club, he was more than ready for a brandy. His mind was spinning, going over and over the incident on the street. Lord, she really must hate him if she was willing to make such a scene in public. He most certainly deserved it, even if his heart hurt at the thought. He absently rubbed his chest, trying to ease the ache as he looked around the room.

He spied Blakesley sitting at a comfortable chair in a corner and sat down next to him, signaling for a drink. He tipped his head back while he waited for the waiter and sighed, looking around the room. A lot of the men seemed to be sending sly looks his way.

Blakesley looked over, a smirk on his face. “I heard that you had an interesting confrontation today.”

Aubrey sighed again, certain that Blakesley was too much of a gossip to let this go.

"I believe that Lady Lucilla mistook me for another gentleman. Remember that I have been out of the country the last several years."

"But isn't her brother's estate in Yorkshire near your own lands?" No, Blakesley was not going to let the incident go.

The waiter served Aubrey's drink and he took a moment to swallow, letting the rich liquid burn its way to his stomach and clear his head.

"Well, yes, but it's been many years since I've seen her. We were just children and she was an acquaintance of my family and much younger than me." Aubrey disliked dishonesty but thought that the circumstances justified some prevarication.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Aversley and Thornton who had been at Tattersalls looking at a pair of matched chestnuts for Thornton's new brougham.

"So, Lovell, what is this I hear of fisticuffs with Lady Lucilla?" It did not appear that the topic of his encounter with Lucilla was passé yet. Thornton looked amused but Aversley was not happy.

"What was all that about? Lady Harriet is most upset. And that makes me even more upset! We can't have the members of the marriage party in open disagreement with each other."

Aubrey tried to soothe Aversley's ruffled feathers. He truly was a good fellow and the stress of his upcoming nuptials along with his mother's disapproval made him overly sensitive to his betrothed's feelings.

"I was just explaining it to Blakesley. The girl's family lives next to my estate in Yorkshire. She was younger than me and I suppose she might have a childish grudge or perhaps mistook me for someone else." Aubrey felt the back of his neck getting hot. This was getting worse and worse.

Blakesley interrupted, "The girl is bad blood anyway. Her first season was a disgrace and she has not got any better as the years have gone by."

Aubrey lifted his head, staring at Blakesley. Aversley's face turned a dull red and his eyes narrowed. "What the blazes are you talking about? Lady Lucilla Blount is a fine lady, sister to the Earl of Wakefield, and very good Ton. She is Harriet's best friend and I won't have you speak ill of her."

"All right, George. Calm down. I do not intend that you call me out over this," Blakesley replied his hands out and palms up in a conciliatory manner. "But you do have to admit that her birth was irregular, don't you? After all, she admitted it herself."

Aubrey paled and sank back into his chair. How did they know? And how had Lucy discovered the truth? He reached for his brandy and took a deep gulp, the liquid burning down his throat, causing him to break out into a fit of coughing. Blakesley and Aversley broke off their disagreement to stare at him with concern.

Thornton reached over and patted Aubrey on the back. One eyebrow was lifted in a manner that conveyed that he did not think the choking was an accident. His next words confirmed that sentiment.

"Do you have a problem with Lady Lucilla's birth lines?" He inquired quizzically. "For if her father and his wife did not, I do not see why society should care. After all, 'tis not like she is the heir. And the actual heir considers her his sister which she is as they share the same father. Richard was friends with my brother, Edmund, and confided as much during Lady Lucilla's first season. Edmund had some interest in her but then the scandal made her ineligible for him. And then he died of course." Thornton sat back, crossed his legs, and tugged at a sleeve, looking for all the world like a judge who had just delivered an important verdict.

Blakesley sniffed, thwarted in his opinion, while Aversley openly gloated. Thornton had been the arbitrator of their little band since Oxford days.

"Father?" Aubrey clung to the one word that made the most amount of sense to him in a discussion that seemed totally incomprehensible.

Blakesley cast a snide look at Aversley. He replied, "Lad Lucilla's father is the deceased Earl of Wakefield, but her mother was not the former Lady Wakefield, just the Earl's mistress, a plump widow he kept stashed away nearby."

"No, that's not right," Aubrey said, confused. "Lady Wakefield had an affair..." He broke off, realizing what he was going to say next.

Thornton gave him a quizzical look as Blakesley continued. "Lady Wakefield was unable to have children after Richard. His birth was difficult and her doctors advised against any more children, especially as they had their heir. They had a true love match and so, Lady Wakefield encouraged her husband to set up a woman to slake his physical needs. There was a widow nearby who agreed to the arrangement and she was Lady Lucilla's mother."

Aubrey thought about the late Lady Wakefield. She had been a slender blond woman, gracious and kind to him and loving to Lucy. There had never been any indication that she was not Lucy's true mother, though in truth there was not much resemblance between them. Lucy had often remarked that she was the changeling in her family and that she fit much closer in the Lovell family, though she and Aubrey had different eyes. Aubrey's eyes were a startling golden color while Lucilla had dark brown chocolate eyes. Their hair was almost the same, although days spent in the Italian sun had tipped Aubrey's hair with gold.

Thornton took up the story. "The pleasant widow died giving birth and Lady Wakefield took the child and raised her as her own daughter."

"How did I not know this?" Aubrey wondered aloud. "We are their neighbors. Surely there would have been gossip in the parish."

"I believe the family was very discreet, seeing no need to brunt the news about. And it wasn't as if the girl was going to inherit. Lord Wakefield took good care of her, she has a dowry designed to attract the lowest of fortune hunters."

“You said there was a scandal in her first season?” Aubrey probed trying to act casual. He took another sip of his brandy, hoping that he was fooling Thornton. The others were too embroiled in their own arguments to concern themselves with his interest, but Thornton had a fine mind and took in far more than people realized.

Blakesley sniffed, but was the first to answer him. “There was a problem with her first season and it was delayed. I believe there was an illness, and then Lord Wakefield, then his wife died, so Lady Lucilla did not make her debut until she was almost twenty. Richard had his hands full with his new responsibilities and brought some great-aunt to chaperone her, but the old woman was careless. Lady Lucilla was a little wild, perhaps because she was older for her first Season, and some gossips caught her alone in a garden with Rathburn.”

Aversley interrupted, “He is a confirmed rake who was just after her dowry. The lady was correct to refuse him, despite what the Ton thought.”

“He made an offer and she turned him down?” To Aubrey that was unheard of. “But what of her family? Didn’t they insist on a wedding?” It would have been very unusual in their society for there not to be a wedding if a man compromised a young lady. There should have been no choice in the matter for Lucy.

“Richard did not insist, despite Rathburn’s claim that he had compromised the lady. Lady Lucilla retired to the country and has only been back for short trips since then,” Thornton replied quietly. “Her family seems to allow her a remarkable degree of laxity in her behavior, but perhaps they realize that they can do nothing at this point.”

“Rathburn insisted that she had succumbed to his advances and was quite indignant when she turned him down.” Blakeley seemed to find this amusing and Aubrey clenched his fist under the table, wanting to smash in his smug face, even if he was one of his oldest friends.

“Yes, well, he certainly did not want to lose her fortune and it did not do his reputation any good to have her refuse him.” Aversley looked like thunder and Blakesley suddenly seemed to realize that the Lady Lucilla was a good friend to the Lady Harriet.