Almeria’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know how you entrapped my son into this appalling mésalliance but—”
“ ‘Entrapped’?” Lucy interrupted. “Have you not spoken to Gerald then?”
Aleria’s lips thinned. “He was not in his lodgings this morning. No doubt hiding from the consequences of his rash act.”
“Or from his dear mama,” Lucy said sweetly.
Almeria’s eyes flashed. “Are you calling my son a coward?”
“You were the one who said he was hiding,” Lucy pointed out. “I wouldn’t have thought it myself, but—”
“I don’t know how he was convinced to wed the likes of you, but I intend to put a stop to it.”
Lucy tried to look concerned. “Is your son so weak-willed then?”
“ ‘Weak-willed’?” Ice dripped from every syllable.
“To be so easily controlled by his mother. I confess I am surprised, especially considering how heroically he served his country, commanding I don’t know how many troops and serving with distinction for—how many years was he away at war fighting the Corsican Monster, Alice?”
“Eight,” said Alice.
“Six,” Almeria said at the same time.
“It was eight,” Alice repeated.
Almeria sniffed.
“Well, whatever it was, presumably his mama knows him best,” Lucy cooed. “So, Lady Charlton, are you saying Gerald is easily led? A touch unreliable?”
“What do you mean, ‘unreliable’? My son is—”
“The kind of man who gives his word without intending to keep it?”
“How dare you! My son is the soul of honor!” Almeria declared, outraged.
“Oh, good then”—Lucy smiled serenely—“so the betrothal stands.”
Almeria breathed heavily through her nostrils, her eyes bulging with frustration. “I warn you, if you do not release him from this disastrous match, he will be penniless. His father will cut off his allowance.”
“Like a naughty schoolboy?” Lucy said incredulously. “How very poor-spirited of him.”
“Hah! That’s made you think twice, hasn’t it?” Almeria nodded in satisfaction. “Thought you were marrying a fortune, didn’t you?”
“Not in the least. Didn’t you know, we’re marrying forlovvvve.” Lucy batted her lashes and sighed romantically.
“Love? Pah! People of our order do not marry for love.”
“But then, I am not of your order, am I? Isn’t that your objection? In any case,” Lucy continued briskly, “I doubt Gerald will need his father’s financial support once he joins the diplomatic service and is living abroad.”
Almeria stiffened. “The diplomatic service? Gerald? Abroad? What nonsense. He’ll do nothing of the sort. I need him here.”
Lucy raised a brow. “To dance attendance on you? You want to keep a grown man of eight-and-twenty tied to your apron strings? Isn’t it a bit late for that?”
Almeria curled her lip. “Apron strings? Faugh! I’ve never worn an apron in my life.”
“How odd,” Lucy said. “I’ve always found them very useful—though not for tying people up with. Not that I’veever tried. But if you don’t have many dresses, an apron is a very useful garment.”
“I’m sure it is,” Almeria said disdainfully.
