Page 86 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
The memory of his last balloon ascent invaded his thoughts, and his traitorous mind turned to Lucy—her face providing solace when he’d regained consciousness, her care as she’d helped him to the house, her passion when he’d invited her to stay.
He gulped for air, suddenly breathless, as panic surged through him.
Stop it,he told himself.She isn’t dead. She will live on and enjoy a happy life. Just not with you.
He bolted from the chair and dashed straight to the gin bottle sitting on the table in the corner. If he had to spend the next week drunk, he’d banish her from his mind. He had to.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucy stared bleakly at the bustling street as the coach made its way to Lady Satterfield’s for tea with Aquilla and Ivy. She’d allowed herself a day to grieve the loss of Andrew, silly as that was, but here it was the second day, and she still felt heartbroken, damn him.
Grandmama had been greatly disappointed to hear that he wouldn’t be calling again. But this morning she was back to championing Edgecombe and looking forward to perchance seeing him at the ball they planned to attend that night.
Lucy didn’t want to go. She’d had enough of Society events, of pretending to care about finding a husband, of comporting herself as everyone expected. She wanted to don trousers, race in Hyde Park, and shoot at Manton’s. She wanted to go to Andrew’s town house and shake him until his head rolled off. This vision gave her a moment’s perverse satisfaction until sadness overtook her emotions.
The coach stopped in front of Lady Satterfield’s, and the footman helped her out. She went inside, and the butler showed her up to the drawing room, where Aquilla and Ivy were already seated.
Aquilla jumped up and hugged her. “How are you?”
They’d heard of her promenade with Andrew the other day. Apparently it had been a choice piece of gossip that evening, particularly after Andrew had appeared to be angry with his friend Charles. Both Ivy and Aquilla had sent notes to Lucy, but with varying tones, of course. Aquilla wanted to know what had happened and hoped things with Andrew were perhaps progressing. Ivy, on the other hand, had hoped that Lucy would continue with her plan and that Andrew would have no part of it because she didn’t need him. Neither of them knew what had transpired after the ball the other night. She hadn’t seen them since then, but even if she had, she wasn’t sure she would tell them.
She felt like a fool for continuing her association with Andrew, especially in a sexual manner, and blamed herself for the anger and hurt she now felt. He’d been clear from the start and all along the way. It was her feelings that had taken a detour and thrown her entire plan off course.
She did, however, blame him for giving her hope. His proposal had been surprising, but when she’d had a moment to let it sink in, she’d been thrilled. Delighted. Overcome with joy. Until Charles had shown up and revealed the true nature of Andrew’s intent.
“I’m fine,” she answered, forcing a smile. She sat in a chair and pulled off her gloves.
Aquilla sank down on the settee next to Ivy, exchanging a worried look with her. Lucy braced herself.
“You don’t look fine,” Aquilla said. “That was a feeble attempt at a smile.”
“Actually, it was a rather Herculean attempt, if you must know.” Lucy wished she could take that back. She didn’t want to be maudlin or focus any more energy on Andrew. He didn’t deserve it.
Ivy grinned. “How I adore your wit.”
The comment reminded her of something Andrew had said once. Would everything remind her of him? This business of falling in love was horrid. She hoped falling out of love happened just as quickly and with far more success.
Aquilla peered intently at Lucy. “I am, of course, dying to know what happened in the park. Were you and Dartford merely planning your next excursion, or was there more to it?”
Lucy had been a fool to think she could avoid discussing him today, but she had to at least try. “There is nothing between us any longer.”
Aquilla blinked. “Nothing?” She sounded disappointed.
Contrariwise, Ivy appeared relieved. “He was looking for you at the ball the other night. I told him to leave you alone. I’m sorry he didn’t listen to me, but it sounds as though you set him straight.”
Lucy snapped her head toward Ivy. “What did he say?”
“That he didn’t deserve you. I quite agree, but then I did say it first, and he merely agreed.”
If he thought that, why would he propose? Because he’d wanted to protect her from scandal. When that threat had passed, he’d been free to let her go. Only, he hadn’t initiated that—she had. He’d said no one had made him think twice about marriage until her. He’d also said it would solve many problems, including their mutual attraction. No, he hadn’t mentioned love, but when she thought of what she knew of him, she wondered if that emotion wouldn’t frighten him to death.
Death.
What a perfectly awful choice of words.
“Lucy, what’s wrong?” Aquilla asked. “You look pale.”
She held her hand to her mouth briefly before dropping it and allowing her friends to come into focus. “I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
