Lucia blinked. This man could not be her father. She let out a sob, and when he opened his arms, she threw herself into them. For the first time in years, he held her tightly. “Do you forgive me?” he murmured.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Father. It’s you who have to forgive me for all the trouble I’ve caused!”
He stroked her hair. “We’ll forgive each other, Lucia. And I give you my word, I’ll sort out the nonsense here. You just manage to avoid any further scrapes at Tanglewilde.”
She pulled back, looking him fully in the eyes. “I will. I’m going to be a different person when you see me next.”
Lord Brigham chuckled. “By God, daughter! I was just getting used to this one.”
But Lucia fully intended to stay out of trouble. In any case, there was little trouble for a young girl to get into during a summer in the country. Everyone who was anyone was in Town, or so her mother frequently complained, and there was little visiting to be done. Not that the absence of members of the peerage curtailed Lady Brigham’s social activities very much. She made half a dozen calls to her wealthier neighbors every day, grousing about her perceived lack of Society at every opportunity.
By mid-July, Lady Brigham decided not only she, but Lucia also needed entertaining. Several attempts were made to coax her daughter into attending some of the public balls held in Selborne, the little town so named because Alex’s ancestors had been granted land and built their estate nearby in the Middle Ages. But Lucia repeatedly refused her mother’s attempts to bring her into Society.
To Lady Brigham’s great pleasure, several young gentlemen of the area called at Tanglewilde and asked Lucia to accompany them on various excursions— riding or walking or picnics. Much to her mother’s dismay, Lucia remained polite but aloof.
She spent her time visiting her father’s tenants, which was really more her mother’s duty, but Lady Brigham complained that she was no good in a sickroom and had nothing to say to the lower classes, so Lucia took on the responsibility herself. Soon she was known and respected by the people of the town as well as her father’s numerous tenants. They called her the Angel of Tanglewilde and praised her kindness and consideration. Lucia suddenly understood why Francesca was always helping animals. It felt good to do something for others.
By November, when the news of the British victory at Trafalgar reached England, Lucia had convinced herself that she was no longer in love with Alex. Well, she did still think of him daily and dream about him nightly, but she didn’t think of him every minute of every day. That had to be progress.
But the news of Trafalgar shattered her illusions of impartiality. For weeks the Battle of Trafalgar became the prime article of discussion in every drawing room, dining room, and club. The brilliance of the British naval tactics, the genius of Lord Nelson, and the tragedy of his death were on everyone’s tongue.
Lucia read everything she could on the battle, forgetting that she didn’t care for Alex anymore. The British fleet under Admiral Nelson had faced twelve Spanish ships and twenty-one French vessels. At the end of the decisive battle, eighteen enemy ships had surrendered and the rest retreated.
The French were thoroughly defeated, but the British had suffered losses as well, not the least of which was Lord Nelson’s demise after being shot on the quarterdeck of his ship Victory. Lucia scanned the names of the casualties for Alex’s and cried with relief when she did not find it.
In fact, she found no mention of Alex or The Incognito whatsoever. But for some reason, she was certain Alex had been there. The intelligence reports he’d carried were probably integral to the British victory.
But now that the threat of a French invasion was well and truly over, Lucia realized Alex would be coming home to England. And, as much as she tried, she couldn’t help but hope he would come to her. She knew she was a fool, even as she planned their reunion over and over again in her mind. He’d arrive in London and learn that she hadn’t married Dandridge, then he’d swallow his pride and come to her at Tanglewilde. He’d be contrite and apologetic, swear his undying love, and offer to marry her. She, of course, would have to take a few days—or weeks—to consider his proposal, but when she’d decided he’d suffered enough, she’d agree and they would be wed.
But as the months dragged on, and Alex didn’t come, Lucia was forced to give up her romantic notions. A letter from Francesca was the final straw. Lucia read it while walking in the park at Tanglewilde.
Dearest Lucia—
Winterbourne has had a letter from the Earl of Selbourne today, and I wrote to you immediately because I thought it would be of particular interest. You may deny that it has any attraction for you, but I know you better than that.
Unfortunately, the news I have is not what you will want to hear. Selbourne is at home in his town house in London and has been for the past six weeks. His letter to Winterbourne is brief, but Selbourne does mention that he was involved at Trafalgar, as we suspected. He gives no account of the battle, however. I am sorry, darling, but he does not ask after you, either. Ethan suggested he come to Winterbourne Hall for a visit, but I think it unlikely. Selbourne mentions going to Grayson Park and, considering its close proximity to Tanglewilde, you might consider going to Town for a few weeks as Mamma has been urging you to do . . .
Lucia stopped reading and crumpled up the letter. The next day when her mother, as usual, suggested going to Town, Lucia agreed without protest. She didn’t care where she was anymore or what she did. London would be busy and full of activities and she wouldn’t have time to think or feel. In Town she could blend in, disappear, become numb. And then maybe she wouldn’t feel her heart breaking.
Chapter Thirty
Alex was sprawled on a couch in his massive library at Grayson Park, a bottle of gin in his hand, when Hodges announced Lord Winterbourne. Before Alex could protest, Ethan sauntered in, his nose wrinkling with disgust.
“You look like the devil,” Ethan said. “When was the last time you changed your clothes?”
“Get out,” Alex growled.
Ethan crossed the room and pulled open a curtain. Alex shielded his eyes from the light, but not before he saw Ethan wince. He knew how he looked, had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror yesterday and barely recognized the man who stared back at him. His hair was long and disheveled, his face unshaven, and his clothes dirty and stained. He had smudges of black under his eyes and looked like a man who hadn’t slept in weeks. He hadn’t.
“I’d like nothing better than to leave, but Francesca sent me here, and she’ll have my head if I don’t try to help.” Ethan lifted one of the bottles covering Alex’s desk, but finding it empty, set it down again. “She keeps saying she’s worried about you. Of course, I can see now that her fears were unfounded. You’re only trying to drink yourself to death.”
Alex saluted him and took another swallow.
“Good God, man. What’s happened to you?” Ethan sat across from his brother and stared at him.
Alex closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the couch. “Go home, Ethan. I don’t want your help.”
“Is it Trafalgar? Was the fighting that bad?”
