“Where has she got to? Lucia!”
Alex felt her jerk away, saw her eyes fly open in sudden recognition. He immediately released her, stepping back to put more distance between them.
“It’s Dandridge,” she whispered. “After what happened last night at the Pools’, he can’t find me with you.”
“He won’t.” Alex slid to the French doors, careful to stay in the shadows, and peered inside. “He’s coming this way. If you go inside now you can intercept him.” He made a gesture to hurry her, but she only stared, her eyes searching his face. She looked as if she would speak and then her tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip where he’d caressed her. Alex gripped the coarse brick of the building behind him to stop himself from taking her in his arms again. If she didn’t leave soon he was going to kiss her, and to hell with Dandridge.
Gritting his teeth, he forced out. “Go now before I change my mind and—”
Lucia ran to the door.
“WHO WAS THAT WOMAN, Lucia?” Reginald said. They were sitting in his carriage, and Reginald had his arms crossed petulantly over his belly.
“What woman, darling?” She tried to sound innocent, glad her face was partly hidden by the dimness of the carriage interior. “Miss Seaton?”
He frowned at her, his displeasure almost audible.
“No, Lucia. This . . . woman was not a lady. She spoke with you on our way out. And you acknowledged her.”
Lucia squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been hoping Reginald hadn’t seen that awful Amelia Cox speak to her as they took their leave of the Seatons. The smell of cheap perfume and the woman’s whispered words assaulted each one of Lucia’s senses, even now, a half mile away.
“When Alex tires of you, you must come to me, my dear. I know what he likes and how to please him,” the Cox woman had murmured. Lucia could still feel the woman’s hot, stale breath. She wiped at her neck.
Confronted by Amelia Cox, she’d felt like a child again, unsure what response to make. She’d been shocked and disgusted, and that had to account for her error, nodding and smiling to the woman. Lucia hadn’t even been thinking about what she was doing.
Now Reginald was looking at her, waiting for an answer, and Lucia knew he would never understand. “I have no idea who she was, darling. She said something about my dress. Perhaps we have the same dressmaker?”
“Good God, I hope not!”
At any other time, Lucia would have smiled at her fiancé’s horror.
“Why on earth did you acknowledge her? This is precisely the reason I objected to attending this ball. You’re too inexperienced to see that a woman like that should be snubbed. You don’t want to form any type of connection with her sort.”
Lucia sighed. She was tired. Tired of rules and tired of Reginald. Was her whole life destined to be one long lecture? No wonder her father had pushed her to marry Dandridge. The two men had much in common, namely an affinity for lecturing her. “I’m exceedingly sorry that I’m not as skilled as you in giving the cut direct,” she told Reginald.
Reginald either didn’t hear or chose to ignore the sarcasm in her voice. “Of course not, darling,” he soothed. “Your family has always protected you. But from now on you must be careful with whom you form connections.”
Lucia stared out the window as he rambled on. “An acquaintance, no matter how slight, with a woman like that can have disastrous effects on your reputation, which in turn reflects upon mine. Your father is in Parliament, so I needn’t remind you how important one’s reputation can be. There simply must be no gossip.”
She watched the passing carriages, rapidly losing patience. He was actually shaking his finger at her, and his voice boomed as though he were addressing the House of Lords. Disgusted, Lucia could tell he derived immense pleasure from hearing himself talk.
“I’m well aware of the ramifications of my behavior,” she interrupted, her tone chilly. “You don’t have to remind or lecture me about propriety.”
Dandridge pulled back, sinking into the squabs. She hadn’t intended to chastise him for his behavior of the night before, but he’d gone too far. She was tired of being treated like a child, lectured to, bullied, ordered about. She watched Reginald study the passing buildings through the windows of the carriage, a sullen look on his face. If he was waiting for her to apologize, he was going to be waiting a very, very long time.
Finally he spoke, his voice muted, and without looking at her. “If you acknowledged that woman out of revenge for my behavior last night—”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Lucia gripped her seat to keep from tearing her hair out. “How can you even believe such nonsense? Sometimes I think you hardly know me, Reginald. Don’t you ever tire of always saying the right things and talking only to the right people? Sometimes I think I’m going to scream from boredom and forced politeness.”
How wonderful it would be if she were free of all these societal strictures! She could go where she wanted, when she wanted—walk down St. James’s peering in the windows of all the gentlemen’s clubs, approach one of those notorious courtesans and ask her for all the gossip, dance with whomever she chose. How she longed to dance with the handsome dandy Lord Alfred Dewhurst or that charming rogue Sir Sebastian Middleton. They were the best dancers of the ton, but etiquette demanded she dance with the dull Marquess of Haverston or the clumsy Viscount Palmerston, who mashed her toes every time.
But Lucia’s musings didn’t last long. Having expressed aloud a feeling she hardly knew she felt, she darted her eyes to Reginald, judging his reaction. She expected him to be shocked, but when he spoke, he sounded thoughtful. “Yes, sometimes I do stray from convention, as you well remember.”
Lucia swallowed, thinking of his damp, cold hands gripping her neck in the Pools’ garden.
“I thought you might . . . appreciate my lapse, but apparently you don’t share my passions.”
She was at a loss. At that moment she could think of no response that would not seriously endanger their engagement. After a moment of silence, Reginald continued, “I understand, Lucia. I really do. You’ll grow to love me in time, and we’ll have a lifetime of opportunities to explore the passion I see in you. Perhaps I can give it another outlet?”
