“Oh, hello, Lucy. I see you had the same idea I had. Were you bored with the dinner party?”
“Not bored so much as ignored, and my mind kept drifting to my writing so I decided to get away and see if I might accomplish anything for the rest of the evening.”
“I am happy you came,” George said working a brush that had dried stiffly.
“I promise not to bother you,” Lucy said as she settled in at her desk.
“You never bother me.”
They both turned to their work for a while—quiet reining over the studio with the very faint strains of music drifting from the manor.
The only other sounds were the strokes of George’s brush and the scratch of Lucy’s pen as she hunched over her page and found the pleasure of working again.
After a while, George kept glancing over at Lucy. She was totally oblivious for some time but then caught a moment when he was looking at her and smiling.
“Was there something you wanted to ask me?” she said, putting down her pen.
“As a matter of fact, there is.”
She waited while he stood looking at her with the strangest expression on his face.
“I have been thinking that when I go to London for my show, you should come with me again. It has been some time since you were there, and it must be time for some new dresses by now.”
Lucy could not help but notice his subtle, but strange smile. “I am quite content with my wardrobe at the moment, thank you. Would we be staying at your Aunt Hester’s again? I should like to see her. She and Sir Harcourt were so kind to us when we visited before.”
“No,” he said taking steps toward her. “I was thinking that we might stay in a fine hotel near the gallery. We would, of course, visit dear Aunt at some point, but I should like a different arrangement this time.”
Lucy suddenly became apprehensive. “A hotel? Would that be quite proper? I would need my own room.”
“Oh, I think not,” George said. “Because I want you to come to London with me as my wife. Will you marry me, Lucy Brighton?” he asked as he knelt before her and took out his grandmother’s engagement ring he had slipped into his pocket after leaving the dinner party.
Lucy brought her hand to her mouth. She was momentarily stunned, and all she could do was stammer, “But… I… but George… how can this be possible? I thought you were to marry Miss Priscilla?”
“And whatever gave you that idea?” he asked laughing while still holding out the ring to her.
“Your mother… And I have no money… how will your mother ever consent?”
“I do not need her consent, Lucy.” He picked up her left hand and slipped the engagement ring on her finger. Then he looked directly at her and said. “Lucy you must know we have had feelings for each other for some time now. For various reasons we have shied away from acknowledging those feelings, but no longer. Lucy, I love you with all my heart and soul and being. And I ask you again, will you marry me?”
“Oh, George, you know I will,” and she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a passionate kiss that he was not likely to forget.
They then stood up and held on to each other tightly. The music from the manor continued to waft through the window, and George took her hand they began to dance, her head resting on his shoulder.
“George,” she said softly. “You know I have always loved you, do you not?”
“I know, my dearest, and as I have always loved you.”
* * *
The Duchess was nearly overcome by giddiness—there were going to be three marriages in the family.How could life be any better?She ruminated.Ah, but then there is still poor Ann.However, realistically, she realized there was little chance that Ann wouldeverfind someone to put up with her difficult disposition.But it is surprising what the incentive of ten to fifteen thousand more, on top of the yearly living can achieve. Maybe, just maybe, there might be one or two suitors I might be able to dig up.She scurried to her chairside table to find her notebook and began leafing through to see who she might be able to encourage with a sizable bribe.
George came into his mother’s rooms with Lucy on his arm. Her Grace grimaced briefly but turned it into a smile.
George said, “Mother, Lucy and I have been talking about the timing of the wedding. We wish to be married before we travel to London for my show. I was thinking early September, and then we could parlay the trip to London into a honeymoon. I understand Venice is particularly lovely in late September into early October.”
“So far away?” Mother asked.
George turned to Lucy and kissed her on the cheek. “Nothing but the very best for my beloved.”
