indiscretions.”
Mr. Stassart pressed a well-groomed hand to his coat front in the vague vicinity of his heart. “You cut me to the quick, Lucinda. Am I truly perceived with such coldness, such unfairness, such ignorance? Alas, I can see that I am. I make bold to tell you, fair cousin, that such sentiments do not do you credit. No, indeed! In fact, I find myself to be insulted. I am not some man-milliner that you may use with impunity. I am the Honorable Ferdie Stassart, your estimable father’s heir and your own adoring cousin!”
“Oh, give over, Ferdie, do!” said Lucinda, smiling. “You have never cared one whit about me, nor I for you! Why, you were always shockingly rude to all of us. My sisters and I considered you to be the merest scrub of a boy.”
Mr. Stassart preferred to let pass the last part of her observation. “On the contrary! I care for you a great deal, Lucinda, very possibly more than you could know at this juncture. When I heard that you had wed Lord Mays and then that you had been banished to the country to live in virtual penury—! Why, my heart positively bled for you.” Ferdie shook his head disapprovingly. “It was a disgraceful piece of work that you were forced to wed a man so unsuited to you. I was never more revolted when I heard what was in the wind.”
“It is a pity, then, that you did not voice your feelings to Sir Thomas, Mr. Stassart. Perhaps he might have listened to his heir,” said Miss Blythe, embroidering for all she was worth.
Mr. Stassart cast a glance of dislike in the companion’s direction. He chose to ignore the lady’s interpolation. “My dear Lucinda, you must believe me. Truly I have never held you in anything but the utmost regard.”
“Why, Ferdie! I am overcome. But if these were your true feelings, whyever did you not visit me at Carbarry? Surely in my exile I must have welcomed such expressions of affection,” said Lucinda.
He grimaced. “You must understand, Lucinda. It would not have done to cross Lord Mays. He was a rather intolerant son of fellow. No, no! My hands were tied. I could do nothing for you.” Ferdie spread his fingers in an expression of abject regret.
“What you actually mean is that you feared to anger the one who had cancelled all of your debts and secured your inheritance for you,” said Lucinda with brutal frankness. She regarded her cousin’s stiffening countenance with a quizzical gaze. “I am rather curious, though. Tell me, Ferdie, did you try to put the touch to Lord Mays later? And were you successful? I would scarcely think so. His lordship was no pigeon for your clumsy plucking.”
“My dear Lucinda!” Mr. Stassart drew himself up, the very picture of dignity and outrage. “I shall not deign to descend to such levels as you seem to want to haunt. I had no notion that your unfortunate experiences had created such a poisonous tongue. And let me tell you, my girl, that it is vastly unbecoming! If you do not take care, you will become known as an archwife, and I do not think you would like that!”
“I really care little what society thinks of me, Ferdie. And despite your warning, I do not believe that I will be shunned. I am a widow of some substance and still of marriageable age, after all. I imagine that my credit will withstand a great deal of backbiting,” said Lucinda calmly.
Ferdie took a fresh assessment of her and altered his tack. He smoothed his sleeve. “Yes, perhaps you are right. There are many hypocrites in society, dear cousin. You surely know the kind. Those who will pretend friendship when all they really wish is for your kind bounty to be bestowed upon them.”
Miss Blythe yanked so hard on her thread that it snapped. She began searching for her scissors. All the while, her piercing eyes were fixed upon the foppish gentleman who was seated across from her. He was smiling at his fair cousin in a way that made her palm itch to connect with his bloodless
Mr. Stassart pressed a well-groomed hand to his coat front in the vague vicinity of his heart. “You cut me to the quick, Lucinda. Am I truly perceived with such coldness, such unfairness, such ignorance? Alas, I can see that I am. I make bold to tell you, fair cousin, that such sentiments do not do you credit. No, indeed! In fact, I find myself to be insulted. I am not some man-milliner that you may use with impunity. I am the Honorable Ferdie Stassart, your estimable father’s heir and your own adoring cousin!”
“Oh, give over, Ferdie, do!” said Lucinda, smiling. “You have never cared one whit about me, nor I for you! Why, you were always shockingly rude to all of us. My sisters and I considered you to be the merest scrub of a boy.”
Mr. Stassart preferred to let pass the last part of her observation. “On the contrary! I care for you a great deal, Lucinda, very possibly more than you could know at this juncture. When I heard that you had wed Lord Mays and then that you had been banished to the country to live in virtual penury—! Why, my heart positively bled for you.” Ferdie shook his head disapprovingly. “It was a disgraceful piece of work that you were forced to wed a man so unsuited to you. I was never more revolted when I heard what was in the wind.”
“It is a pity, then, that you did not voice your feelings to Sir Thomas, Mr. Stassart. Perhaps he might have listened to his heir,” said Miss Blythe, embroidering for all she was worth.
Mr. Stassart cast a glance of dislike in the companion’s direction. He chose to ignore the lady’s interpolation. “My dear Lucinda, you must believe me. Truly I have never held you in anything but the utmost regard.”
“Why, Ferdie! I am overcome. But if these were your true feelings, whyever did you not visit me at Carbarry? Surely in my exile I must have welcomed such expressions of affection,” said Lucinda.
He grimaced. “You must understand, Lucinda. It would not have done to cross Lord Mays. He was a rather intolerant son of fellow. No, no! My hands were tied. I could do nothing for you.” Ferdie spread his fingers in an expression of abject regret.
“What you actually mean is that you feared to anger the one who had cancelled all of your debts and secured your inheritance for you,” said Lucinda with brutal frankness. She regarded her cousin’s stiffening countenance with a quizzical gaze. “I am rather curious, though. Tell me, Ferdie, did you try to put the touch to Lord Mays later? And were you successful? I would scarcely think so. His lordship was no pigeon for your clumsy plucking.”
“My dear Lucinda!” Mr. Stassart drew himself up, the very picture of dignity and outrage. “I shall not deign to descend to such levels as you seem to want to haunt. I had no notion that your unfortunate experiences had created such a poisonous tongue. And let me tell you, my girl, that it is vastly unbecoming! If you do not take care, you will become known as an archwife, and I do not think you would like that!”
“I really care little what society thinks of me, Ferdie. And despite your warning, I do not believe that I will be shunned. I am a widow of some substance and still of marriageable age, after all. I imagine that my credit will withstand a great deal of backbiting,” said Lucinda calmly.
Ferdie took a fresh assessment of her and altered his tack. He smoothed his sleeve. “Yes, perhaps you are right. There are many hypocrites in society, dear cousin. You surely know the kind. Those who will pretend friendship when all they really wish is for your kind bounty to be bestowed upon them.”
Miss Blythe yanked so hard on her thread that it snapped. She began searching for her scissors. All the while, her piercing eyes were fixed upon the foppish gentleman who was seated across from her. He was smiling at his fair cousin in a way that made her palm itch to connect with his bloodless
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