Page 63 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Tindall coughed softly. “Now that she’s on the mend, I shall take up my search for a new position. I do appreciate your patience.”
This news should’ve filled Andrew with relief, but he felt…odd. He’d missed Tindall while he’d been at Darent Hall. He was an exceptionally fine valet, anticipating Andrew’s every need and exceeding his expectations.
He expressed none of this to Tindall.
“Have you set your schedule today, my lord?”
Andrew had a meeting with his secretary later this morning and should visit his club later. No, what heshoulddo was call on Lucy. He owed her an apology at least and perhaps even an explanation. He’d go after his appointment.
After sharing his plans with Tindall, he dressed for the day and went down for breakfast. Instead of thinking about his business matters, however, he could think only of Lucy and what to say to her. She had to be terribly angry. And concerned—she needed money, and he’d abandoned her in her time of need. He’d already decided it wouldn’t be wise for them to continue visiting gaming hells. Then he’d gone and taken her into his bed, and he wasn’t sure how it would be to see her again.
He felt a powerful attraction toward her. Plus, he liked her. What a disastrous combination.
No, they needed to part ways, much as that disappointed him. He’d have to think of another way to help fill her coffers. Perhaps he could sell something for her. In fact, why hadn’t he offered that in the first place? Because he’d thought their enterprise would be mildly diverting and quite temporary. Neither of those had proven true.
He could also invest whatever she had left—he winced thinking of her losses over their last few encounters together. How much had she lost with the balloon contest? He hadn’t spoken to any of the others who’d been there. A few had sent notes to Darent Hall inquiring after him, but he hadn’t responded. He owed several apologies, he realized, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Why should he apologize? He hadn’t invited them, and he didn’t care what they thought of his rudeness.
As he ate breakfast, he turned his mind back to Lucy’s financial problems. He’d talk to his secretary about investment opportunities with a fast return. And if there were none, he could just fabricate something and give her the money himself. Yes,thatwas what he should have done from the start—given her a nest egg and offered to invest it for her. She probably would have refused, given her independent nature, but she was also practical. She’d come around to the logic of it and accept his offer.
Feeling much better about his ability to help her, he went into his meeting with a sense of optimism toward the rest of his day. He ignored the pang of anticipation he felt at the prospect of seeing her. He’d keep their association focused on business and do his best to forget her lush kisses, her audacious touch, and most of all, her surprisingly delightful concern. He could find the first two anywhere, and he didn’t need the last.
The ghost of his family told him he was very wrong. So he did what he did best and ignored them too.
Lucy scanned the advertisements for small cottages near Bath for lease. The money she’d saved would support only a very small one—she’d have to sleep in a closet—and it was farther from Bath than Grandmama would like. She had friends in Town, and the whole reason she wished to retire there was to see them more regularly.
There was no help for it—Lucy was going to have to find employment in Bath. Perhaps she could work at a school or provide secretarial assistance to a widow. Ivy had told her of women doing that.
Once, Lucy might’ve thrilled to these thoughts. She didn’t mind employment and would appreciate the independence it would afford. She imagined feeling a sense of accomplishment and self-worth—things she saw in Ivy and admired immensely.
Instead, these ideas made her feel forlorn and…empty. She blamed Andrew. He’d shown her what Aquilla had always insisted—that good men existed and that Lucy could find one and be happy.
Only Andrew wasn’t a good man. He was a selfish, thoughtless blackguard.
“How many times have you danced with Edgecombe, dear?” Grandmama’s question jolted Lucy from her reverie, and she was grateful for it.
Lucy had attended two balls in the past week, and she’d danced with Edgecombe at both of them. She’d also danced with a few other gentlemen, including Mr. Greene. She’d panicked when he’d first approached her, wondering if he’d somehow recognized her. But he hadn’t, much to her relief.
“Twice, Grandmama.” She hid a smile because Grandmama absolutely knew how many times they’d danced. He’d also sent flowers again.
“Three times if you count Lady Colne’s. You did dance with him then, didn’t you?” She didn’t wait for Lucy to confirm this before adding, “And that’s twice he’s sent flowers. I daresay he’ll be calling very soon.” She looked up from her knitting. “It’s just splendid, isn’t it?”
No, but Lucy didn’t say so. She only murmured, “Mmm.”
“What, you don’t like Edgecombe?”
Oh, he was pleasant enough, with an easy smile, and he demonstrated at least a passing interest in Lucy as a person, asking her what she liked and even engaging in a rousing discussion about riding. “I like him fine. That doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about marriage, Grandmama. Would it be so terrible if I simply retired with you?”
“No, but that isn’t an option, I’m afraid.” She exhaled and returned her attention to her knitting.
Lucy didn’t think Grandmama had really ever considered the possibility. In her mind, Lucyhadto marry.
Lucy set her newspaper aside and stood up from her chair. She went to Grandmama and squatted down in front of her. She set her hand on her grandmother’s knee and looked into her familiar, beloved face, framed by gray hair topped with a white cap. “Just think of how lovely it would be. Our own little cottage. I would take care of you and make sure you were able to do everything you wished.”
Grandmama had lifted her sherry-colored gaze partway through Lucy’s plea. Now she smiled. “It would be lovely. But you would grow bored, dear.”
“I wouldn’t.” Lucy shook her head but didn’t feel as confident as she had, say, a fortnight ago. Before she’d shared all those experiences with Andrew. Damn it all, he’d ruinedeverything.
Lucy heard movement and conversation from the hall. Someone must be here.
