Page 26 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
She tipped her head to the side, weighing whether she ought to tell them both what she was doing. “I don’t think I’d make a very good companion.”
Aquilla glided toward her, the silk of her beautiful new aqua-colored ball gown swirling around her ankles as she moved. “Lucy does indeed have some other plan.” She glanced toward Ivy, her mouth pursed. “Not that she’s saying what it is.”
Ivy arched a red-gold brow at Lucy and crossed her arms. “Is that so? You’re keeping secrets?”
Lucy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Ivy was the most secretive among them. No, secretive wasn’t the right word. She was…guarded. She spoke very little of her family, and when she did, it was brief and with disdain. Lucy and Aquilla had always wanted to know more—such as how Ivy had become as polished and educated as if she’d been prepared for Society—but Ivy didn’t encourage those kinds of discussions. She always said she preferred to focus on the present and the future, that the past was precisely where it belonged. Lucy and Aquilla surmised that she’d buried some deep hurt, but didn’t know what it was.
“Yes,” Aquilla answered for her. She too had crossed her arms, making Lucy feel as though she were being chastised.
She pinned Aquilla with a mutinous stare. “Is it a secret if I say I plan to tell you?”
Aquilla, never one to willfully cause discomfort, threw her hands up. “No. And I’m sorry for badgering you.” She smiled encouragingly at Lucy, then darted a look at Ivy. “She’ll tell us in time.”
“Well, my curiosity is piqued,” Ivy said. “But I can be patient.”
Again, Lucy considered just telling them, but they’d say it was dangerous, and she’d have to explain that she had a protector in Dartford. She realized he was the piece she didn’t wish to disclose. Aquilla’s eyes would widen, and she’d titter about how wonderful that was and probably suggest that he could be her husband. While Ivy’s eyes would darken, and she’d frown. Then she’d caution Lucy, perhaps even saying that Dartford was anything but protection. To her, all men sought to seduce women into bed.
Neither one of her friends would understand Lucy’s current situation. So she didn’t tell them.
“I have a plan to make money so that I can retire with Grandmama. Things are going very well. I will tell you all about it soon.” When she had the necessary funds in hand, and they wouldn’t be able to try to talk her out of anything—because she’d be finished.
For some bizarre, unpleasant reason the thought of being finished with Dartford sparked a flash of annoyance. She liked him; that was all. And with him, she was able to do things she couldn’t, such as shoot at Manton’s. Their conversation from earlier came back to her, and she felt a rush of anticipation. To think that she could do that again—shoot at Manton’s—or any number of other things, filled her with excitement.
“Are we ready to return?” Aquilla asked. “Actually, I’m not at all certain why we left.”
Ivy looked at Lucy. “It seemed as though Lucy wanted to tell us something, but I would guess that is not the case.”
“No, I did want to talk to you, but mostly I wanted to leave before someone else could ask me to dance.”
Aquilla moved closer. “You didn’t like dancing? Lord Metcalf is an excellent dancer.”
The baronet who’d claimed the second set. Or third, if she counted her dance with Dartford. She’d likedthat, if she was honest. Dartford’s touch had been warm and sure, masculine. What an odd thing to think. But with him, she’d felt feminine in a way she never had. Was it because he’d only ever seen her as a man, and tonight she’d been more aware of herself as a woman? Or was it the way he’d studied her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was a woman? Or that he was shocked to find she was anattractivewoman?
“Lucy?” Aquilla’s voice drew her back from her musings.
“Yes, he’s an excellent dancer, but that isn’t the point.” Was she speaking of Dartford or Metcalf, she asked herself.Metcalf. She couldn’t think of Dartford right now. “I don’t want a husband, and all of this…attention is a nuisance.”
Ivy laughed, causing both Lucy and Aquilla to turn their heads. “Four years ago, you would’ve been ecstatic.”
“Well, it’s not four years ago. I am older and wiser, and I don’t have the patience for this now. Really, where were these nincompoops when I wanted them?”
Ivy laughed again, harder this time, and Lucy joined her, giggling. Belatedly, Lucy realized that Aquilla wasn’t laughing. She was watching them both with a slightly perturbed frown.
Lucy sobered and turned toward her friend. “Sorry. I know you’d love to have this attention, and if I could divert it toward you, I’d do so in a trice.”
Ivy joined them and touched Aquilla’s arm. “I’ve never understood your desire to wed, but I support your happiness wholeheartedly.”
Aquilla exhaled. “It’s all right. None of that is your fault. I’m being ridiculously maudlin. We each have our own path, and none is better than the other.”
“Still, I’m being thoughtless,” Lucy said, wincing.
“No, you’re not. If you were, you’d still be laughing.” Aquilla smiled at both of them. “Truly, you are the two dearest friends anyone could want. Who needs a husband?”
Ivy grinned. “Indeed.” She turned her gaze to Lucy. “Do you plan to hide for the rest of the evening?”
Lucy sighed. “I suppose not.” She looked at Aquilla. “How late will Lady Satterfield wish to stay?”
“Not much past midnight, I should think.”
