version of Aunt Cornelia. Her father’s still hung in the morning room to her right. She glanced up the stairs directly in front of her, knowing that her room would be exactly the same as she’d left it: lemon-colored drapes, fluffy lace coverlet.
“Good evening, Lambert,” her aunt said as she sailed through the front door.
“Good evening, my lady,” the butler replied, a bland expression on his face. But when he turned to Lucy, he smiled.
“Good evening, Lambert,” Lucy said, smiling back. There was an answering gleam in the butler’s eyes, for the man was more like a family member than a servant.
Lucy turned to Garrick, trying to control her breathing as she stared at him.“Lambert, this is a friend of Lady Warburton, the Marquis of Cardiff.” She ignored the frown her aunt shot in her direction for introducing a guest to a servant.
“My lord,” the butler replied, and it was obvious he tried not to gawk. His eyes nearly boggled when he caught sight of Garrick’s earring.
Completely oblivious to the assessing look, Garrick merely stared right back. Lucy looked between the two. All Garrick needed was a rapier and a red scarf and he’d be the spitting image of a storybook pirate. She stopped a chuckle midthroat. Garrick chose that moment to glance at her. Unable to stop herself, she smiled at him again. She didn’t expect one in return, so she was stunned when the right side of his mouth tipped up.
She felt giddy. She felt like dancing. She felt like crying in delight.
“My lord,” her aunt said, breaking the spell.“I dare say your staying with us will not be considered
quite
so improper if you share a room with Thomas.” She turned to the butler.“Lambert, please show his lordship to the boy’s room.”
The butler nodded, and Garrick bowed toward the ladies before turning to follow the servant.
“We dine promptly at eight, my lord,” Cornelia called, her eyes narrowing as she added, “Please do not.be late.”
Garrick looked over his shoulder and nodded, but Lucy noted he didn’t look at her again, not even once.
• • •
“I will not have you developing a tendré for the man,” Lady Cornelia said as she paced back and forth in front of Lucy, the powder blue skirts of her evening gown rustling like the sails of a battleship.
“But, Aunt, I’ve only known him for a day. How could I be developing a tendré for him?”
Cornelia stopped to stare down at her. Lucy clasped the arms of the pink-and-white chair she sat in and tried to appear unfazed, but her aunt must have known better.
“Don’t try to bamboozle me, young lady. I saw the way you looked at him. What’s more, I saw the way he looked back at
you.”
“You’re mistaken, Auntie.”
“No, I am not.”
Lucy wiggled in her chair. If only her aunt were correct, but she knew she wasn’t. The man didn’t even want to ride in the same carriage with her.
“Lucy, I know how impressionable you are. It would be just like you to fall instantly in love with a man just because he came to your rescue.”
Lucy’s head snapped up.“Aunt Cornelia, I am not
that
bad.”
“Oh yes you are, my dear.”
“I am not. Why, why … look at what happened with Lord Washburn. I didn’t become enamored of
him.”
“Really, Lucy, Lord Washburn is over twice your age and married to boot. And a good thing, too, for I’d hate to think what a young man would have done if he’d found you hanging from that tree limb. When I think back to what youlooked like, your petticoats exposed, one slipper on the ground and the other dangling from your toes, I just cringe.”
Lucy felt her cheeks flame with color. She really hadn’t had much luck with trees lately. To this day she
still
couldn’t believe her sash had supported her weight for so long, not to mention that tree limb. It had been a pity Lord Washburn had been the one to discover her, but at the time she’d been so relieved that help had arrived, she hadn’t cared that
“Good evening, Lambert,” her aunt said as she sailed through the front door.
“Good evening, my lady,” the butler replied, a bland expression on his face. But when he turned to Lucy, he smiled.
“Good evening, Lambert,” Lucy said, smiling back. There was an answering gleam in the butler’s eyes, for the man was more like a family member than a servant.
Lucy turned to Garrick, trying to control her breathing as she stared at him.“Lambert, this is a friend of Lady Warburton, the Marquis of Cardiff.” She ignored the frown her aunt shot in her direction for introducing a guest to a servant.
“My lord,” the butler replied, and it was obvious he tried not to gawk. His eyes nearly boggled when he caught sight of Garrick’s earring.
Completely oblivious to the assessing look, Garrick merely stared right back. Lucy looked between the two. All Garrick needed was a rapier and a red scarf and he’d be the spitting image of a storybook pirate. She stopped a chuckle midthroat. Garrick chose that moment to glance at her. Unable to stop herself, she smiled at him again. She didn’t expect one in return, so she was stunned when the right side of his mouth tipped up.
She felt giddy. She felt like dancing. She felt like crying in delight.
“My lord,” her aunt said, breaking the spell.“I dare say your staying with us will not be considered
quite
so improper if you share a room with Thomas.” She turned to the butler.“Lambert, please show his lordship to the boy’s room.”
The butler nodded, and Garrick bowed toward the ladies before turning to follow the servant.
“We dine promptly at eight, my lord,” Cornelia called, her eyes narrowing as she added, “Please do not.be late.”
Garrick looked over his shoulder and nodded, but Lucy noted he didn’t look at her again, not even once.
• • •
“I will not have you developing a tendré for the man,” Lady Cornelia said as she paced back and forth in front of Lucy, the powder blue skirts of her evening gown rustling like the sails of a battleship.
“But, Aunt, I’ve only known him for a day. How could I be developing a tendré for him?”
Cornelia stopped to stare down at her. Lucy clasped the arms of the pink-and-white chair she sat in and tried to appear unfazed, but her aunt must have known better.
“Don’t try to bamboozle me, young lady. I saw the way you looked at him. What’s more, I saw the way he looked back at
you.”
“You’re mistaken, Auntie.”
“No, I am not.”
Lucy wiggled in her chair. If only her aunt were correct, but she knew she wasn’t. The man didn’t even want to ride in the same carriage with her.
“Lucy, I know how impressionable you are. It would be just like you to fall instantly in love with a man just because he came to your rescue.”
Lucy’s head snapped up.“Aunt Cornelia, I am not
that
bad.”
“Oh yes you are, my dear.”
“I am not. Why, why … look at what happened with Lord Washburn. I didn’t become enamored of
him.”
“Really, Lucy, Lord Washburn is over twice your age and married to boot. And a good thing, too, for I’d hate to think what a young man would have done if he’d found you hanging from that tree limb. When I think back to what youlooked like, your petticoats exposed, one slipper on the ground and the other dangling from your toes, I just cringe.”
Lucy felt her cheeks flame with color. She really hadn’t had much luck with trees lately. To this day she
still
couldn’t believe her sash had supported her weight for so long, not to mention that tree limb. It had been a pity Lord Washburn had been the one to discover her, but at the time she’d been so relieved that help had arrived, she hadn’t cared that
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