that he’d prevented Dion from bearding her for Lucy’s own sake? No, of course not. If he had any consideration for her feelings, he would not have behaved in that imperious fashion.
‘But you are here now.’ Dion’s eager voice cut in on her thoughts. ‘And Stefan is late. So pray put me out of my misery and tell me what happened?’
‘I beg you will hold me excused,’ began Lucy, but she was immediately interrupted.
‘No, that is too bad of you, Lucy. I will not hold you excused. If you don’t tell me, I shall be thinking you and Stefan have a pact.’
‘A pact with Lord Pennington?’ uttered Lucy outraged. ‘Most certainly not!’
Dion clapped her hands, her tone gleeful. ‘There now, I knew you had quarrelled. Was he abominably overbearing?’
Lucy could not contain her spleen. ‘He was unbearably autocratic, and I tell you now, I will not endure it!’
‘Splendid! How often have I said the same.’ Dion leaned confidingly towards her from where she perched on the opposite sofa. ‘He is dreadfully like Corisande, you must know, except she is so single-minded about her passion it does not disturb us so very much. Stefan, on the other hand, has a great sense of family loyalty, and once he has taken one of his ideas into his head, there is no moving him.’
A statement which did little to endear him to Lucy. Her determination intensified. She was not a member of his unfortunate family.
‘And now you are recognised as one of us,’ continued Dion blithely, ‘of course you are bound to come in for your share of his commands.’
Lucy shot up from the sofa. ‘I am not one of you! A mere accident of birth is not to determine my future. I will not have it so. But a short while ago I had never even heard of the Ankerville family. I will not be coerced into accepting them.’
Catching Dion’s open-mouthed astonishment, Lucy stopped abruptly. She drew a series of short breaths, trying to steady her mind.
‘Forgive me. I should not have spoken to you so. You are not to blame for this hideous predicament.’
From the doorway, Lord Pennington’s cool tones cut in.
‘The Ankerville family accepts your apology.’
CHAPTER THREE
Lucy jerked round, glaring furiously at his lordship, who was now clad like herself in black.
He held up a hand. ‘Don’t rip up at me, Miss Graydene. Remember we are to dine together and tantrums are not conducive to digestion.’
Incensed to hear a note of amusement, Lucy toyed with the pleasurable notion of striking him in the face and weighed it against the alternative of rushing from the room in a welter of tears. The image of Papa’s features rose up in her mind, in the look of kindly understanding he had ever worn when she was frustrated and upset. With difficulty, Lucy quelled both instincts, and sat down again.
‘Very sensible,’ commented his lordship, almost breaking her resolution.
Fortunately, Dion spoke for her. ‘Don’t be horrid, Stefan. How can you be so unkind?’
‘In applauding Miss Graydene’s resumption of civilised conduct? I fail to see anything unkind in that.’
He strolled to the mantelpiece as he spoke, bending his steel grey gaze upon Lucy. She looked away, afraid of giving in once more to her unruly tongue.
‘It is damping and unnecessary,’ stated Dion, ‘when poor Lucy has successfully controlled her temper. You had much better have said nothing at all.’
Stefan eyed the downcast features, aware of a sliver of regret poking into the cold necessity that had made him avert a potential scene. A passionate creature, this Lucy. Not a trait he admired in the general run of things. But forgivable in this girl, considering the provocation he must suppose to be at the back of it.
‘I beg your pardon, Lucy,’ he said on impulse. ‘I must bow to my sister’s better wisdom.’
Dion giggled. ‘Gracious, that’s a first. I wish you will stay a while, Lucy, if you are to be a reforming influence upon my brother.’
He
‘But you are here now.’ Dion’s eager voice cut in on her thoughts. ‘And Stefan is late. So pray put me out of my misery and tell me what happened?’
‘I beg you will hold me excused,’ began Lucy, but she was immediately interrupted.
‘No, that is too bad of you, Lucy. I will not hold you excused. If you don’t tell me, I shall be thinking you and Stefan have a pact.’
‘A pact with Lord Pennington?’ uttered Lucy outraged. ‘Most certainly not!’
Dion clapped her hands, her tone gleeful. ‘There now, I knew you had quarrelled. Was he abominably overbearing?’
Lucy could not contain her spleen. ‘He was unbearably autocratic, and I tell you now, I will not endure it!’
‘Splendid! How often have I said the same.’ Dion leaned confidingly towards her from where she perched on the opposite sofa. ‘He is dreadfully like Corisande, you must know, except she is so single-minded about her passion it does not disturb us so very much. Stefan, on the other hand, has a great sense of family loyalty, and once he has taken one of his ideas into his head, there is no moving him.’
A statement which did little to endear him to Lucy. Her determination intensified. She was not a member of his unfortunate family.
‘And now you are recognised as one of us,’ continued Dion blithely, ‘of course you are bound to come in for your share of his commands.’
Lucy shot up from the sofa. ‘I am not one of you! A mere accident of birth is not to determine my future. I will not have it so. But a short while ago I had never even heard of the Ankerville family. I will not be coerced into accepting them.’
Catching Dion’s open-mouthed astonishment, Lucy stopped abruptly. She drew a series of short breaths, trying to steady her mind.
‘Forgive me. I should not have spoken to you so. You are not to blame for this hideous predicament.’
From the doorway, Lord Pennington’s cool tones cut in.
‘The Ankerville family accepts your apology.’
CHAPTER THREE
Lucy jerked round, glaring furiously at his lordship, who was now clad like herself in black.
He held up a hand. ‘Don’t rip up at me, Miss Graydene. Remember we are to dine together and tantrums are not conducive to digestion.’
Incensed to hear a note of amusement, Lucy toyed with the pleasurable notion of striking him in the face and weighed it against the alternative of rushing from the room in a welter of tears. The image of Papa’s features rose up in her mind, in the look of kindly understanding he had ever worn when she was frustrated and upset. With difficulty, Lucy quelled both instincts, and sat down again.
‘Very sensible,’ commented his lordship, almost breaking her resolution.
Fortunately, Dion spoke for her. ‘Don’t be horrid, Stefan. How can you be so unkind?’
‘In applauding Miss Graydene’s resumption of civilised conduct? I fail to see anything unkind in that.’
He strolled to the mantelpiece as he spoke, bending his steel grey gaze upon Lucy. She looked away, afraid of giving in once more to her unruly tongue.
‘It is damping and unnecessary,’ stated Dion, ‘when poor Lucy has successfully controlled her temper. You had much better have said nothing at all.’
Stefan eyed the downcast features, aware of a sliver of regret poking into the cold necessity that had made him avert a potential scene. A passionate creature, this Lucy. Not a trait he admired in the general run of things. But forgivable in this girl, considering the provocation he must suppose to be at the back of it.
‘I beg your pardon, Lucy,’ he said on impulse. ‘I must bow to my sister’s better wisdom.’
Dion giggled. ‘Gracious, that’s a first. I wish you will stay a while, Lucy, if you are to be a reforming influence upon my brother.’
He
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