A Lady in Name (35 page)
Authors: Elizabeth Bailey
Despite himself, Stefan caught a little of her enthusiasm.
‘It was at St Bride’s, where she was wed, you felt her so strongly.’
‘You see!
It is not coincidence, I am sure it is not.’
He smiled across at her.
‘My love, if you choose to believe it was Alice working from beyond the veil, who am I to gainsay you? For all I know, it may well be so.’
To his intense satisfaction, she heaved a great sigh and shifted closer to him on the seat, tucking one hand under his rein arm.
‘Can you drive if I hold you?’
‘Without the least difficulty,’ he told her, and was gratified when she leaned in and kissed his cheek.
‘Cobbold, turn your eyes elsewhere,’ Stefan ordered, and pulled up his team.
When he set his horses in motion a few moments later, he felt deliciously refreshed.
‘We really must get married,’ he murmured for Lucy’s ears alone. ‘And that right speedily.’
Lucy blushed and
allowed one of her hands to settle cosily upon his thigh. ‘Do you suppose I might purchase a suitable gown in Gloucester?’
‘You may buy all the gowns you wish, my darling.’
‘But not with your money,’ Lucy protested at once. ‘You must allow me a trifle of independence. I come to you without dowry or any other advantage.’
‘What do you suppose I care for that?
Besides, I don’t think I could cope with the complications of supplying you with a dowry out of my own coffers and then paying it back to myself.’
Lucy
had to laugh. ‘That is all very well, but pray indulge me in this one thing, Stefan. At heart, I am only the vicar’s daughter. Let Papa be the one to supply my wants on this occasion.’
‘Very well.’ Stefan flicked a glance at her, in which she recognised the teasing gleam she was coming to know. ‘On one condition.’
‘Oh? And what condition might that be, sir?’
‘That you indulge me in your turn and agree to honeymoon in Much Marcle.’
‘Much Marcle?’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘Why in the world should you wish to remain there?’
‘I have conceived a liking for the place,’ Stefan said at his blandest.
Lucy eyed him with puzzlement. ‘But should we not go back to Pennington as soon as may be? Dion will be anxious to know how we have fared.’
‘You may write to tell her, and we will send Cobbold back with the news.
Indeed, I must send you back, anyway, Cobbold,’ he said, throwing the words over his shoulder.
‘For what purpose?
’
‘
I need Barnsley to arrange for my lawyer to come and witness your legitimacy in the register here.’
‘But
the lawyer can come here without you, can he not?’
‘Ah, but I must guard the evidence, in case your mad uncle should take it into his head to meddle.’
Lucy eyed his profile with growing suspicion, half convinced he was joking.
‘And then there is Paulina,’ h
e added coolly. ‘She is bound to kick up the devil of a dust. Do you truly wish to face that?’
‘Not in the least.
But we cannot hide away forever, Stefan. We will have to brave it out at some time. And I cannot imagine why in the world you are so set upon Much Marcle.’
He turned his head and the gleam in his eye spoke volumes. ‘Can you not? Then your memory is regrettably short, my love.’
‘Are you thinking of my mother’s having been married there?’
‘I was not, but what a romantic notion you have given me,’ Stefan declared. ‘Shall we be married at St Bride’s too?’
Lucy caught her breath on a sudden pang and her eyes pricked. ‘Yes! Oh, yes, Stefan, if you please.’
Transferring the reins to one hand, he reached to catch her close against him for a moment. Lucy sniffed away the threatening tears and smiled at him as he released her.
‘That was charming of you, Stefan. Thank you.’
A short laugh escaped him. ‘It was a last resort rather, but I am glad it makes you happy.’
Lucy eyed him in puzzlement. ‘But if that was not your reason for wishing to stay in Much Marcle, then—oh!’
Warmth swept through her as she suddenly recalled the
wild entanglement in his bed last night.
‘The penny drops at last,’ he teased.
Lucy lowered her tone to an admonishing hiss. ‘Stefan, you are outrageous!’
‘
But not, you will agree, high-handed and autocratic.’
‘Worse,’ Lucy told him, trying not to laugh. ‘You are horridly devious
and will do anything to get your own way.’
‘Well, if you truly do not wish for it, you have time enough to argue the point until we have secured this special licence.’
But Lucy, discovering in herself a partiality for Much Marcle and all it had to offer which more than matched that of her prospective spouse, abandoned any attempt to avail herself of the opportunity.
grew up in the open spaces and tropical atmosphere of colonial Africa, one of four siblings with unconventional parents. Reading and drama were inculcated from an early age and both have borne adult fruit in acting, directing and writing. Elizabeth returned to the England of Mary Quant and geometric hair, and ended a brief secretarial career by landing in drama school and thence treading the boards. In her thirties, Elizabeth discovered her true métier as a writer and fulfilled an early addiction to Georgette Heyer by launching into historical romance. It took the proverbial lengthy apprenticeship before Harlequin Mills & Boon accepted her first book, but they have overall published 18 of her novels.
In 2005, with Unlimited Publishing,
Elizabeth brought out the first of her mainstream
novels dealing with the unexplained, FLY THE WILD ECHOES, a story in dual time
of the intertwined lives of three women. Her second novel in this style is FOR ONE
MORE TOMORROW, a supernatural tale in which the real Macbeth returns from the dead to challenge Shakespeare’s villainous version of his life. Both these novels are now available on Amazon Kindle.
Elizabeth
’s writing recently swerved in a new direction with the publication of the first two in a Georgian historical crime series, THE GILDED SHROUD and THE DEATHLY PORTENT, published by Berkley Books (Penguin US). But since she still loves writing romance, Elizabeth is delighted with the opportunity to publish her work independently.
You can find out about Elizabeth Bailey’s writing career and her books at www.elizabethbailey.co.uk and follow her on twitter @lizbwrites.
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