Love for Lucinda (26 page)

She swung her head up to stare at Lord Mays. Flags of indignation flew in her cheeks, and her brown eyes flashed. “You callous beast! How could you hit a wounded man?”

Mr. Stassart stopped groaning long enough to look up at her in astonishment. His own expression was duplicated on Lord Mays’s face. Ferdie, ever quick-witted at the least sign of opportunity, commenced to groan with great fervor. He added an artistic touch by fumbling with his hand at his throbbing jaw.

“Oh, you poor man!” crooned Miss Mays, sitting down and carefully lifting Mr. Stassart’s head into her soft lap.

“Here, I say!” protested Lord Mays feebly. “Not at all the thing, cousin!”

Ferdie flicked his eyelids a couple of times before apparently being able to focus upon her anxious face above him. “Where am I? Miss Mays? Can it be you? Ah, no, it is an angel!”

“Now see what you have done! He is delirious. I shouldn’t wonder at it if he is not put into a raging fever after your brutal treatment, my lord!” said Miss Mays fiercely.

Lord Mays’s eyes fairly started from his head. “No such thing! I just planted the fellow a facer.” A sense of strong ill-usage rose up in him, and he said indignantly, “Good God, cousin, I have just saved you from this dastard’s unwelcome liberties!”

Ferdie had closed his eyes, enjoying his unique position. But at his lordship’s untimely reminder, he uttered another loud groan. “Oh, my head! My shoulder! Has my face begun to swell? Am I bleeding!”

“Go away! Haven’t you done enough damage?”

“Miss Agnes Maria Mays!”

Miss Mays started severely at the awful pronouncement of her name. She stared up at Miss Blythe’s stern visage. Abruptly, all the evils of her situation burst upon her. She had been caught once more in an unladylike pose.

She scrambled to her feet and Mr. Stassart’s head dropped hard against the floor. He let loose a string of curses, but Miss Mays never heard the gentleman’s shocking lack of control. It was doubtful that anyone else did either, for Miss Mays had promptly burst into noisy tears.

“What a looby!” exclaimed Lord Mays. He stretched a hand down to Stassart, who was groaning in earnest and nursing his head. “Come on, you shouldn’t stay down there. She might take it into her head to stumble over you and there you would be, trapped beneath a watering pot!”

Ferdie was instantly struck with the truth of these words. He grasped his lordship’s hand, and as he was pulled to his feet, he exclaimed, “Yes, by Jove! And though I do not care for this coat, it is the only one that I have at present.”

Miss Blythe had put her arm around Miss Mays’s shoulders. “Come, my dear. This is no place for you. I shall take you upstairs.”

As the two ladies turned to the door, Lucinda walked into the room. She stared in consternation at the weeping Miss Mays, and then her gaze swept around to her cousin, who was brushing down his coat. “What has gone on here?” she asked very quietly.

In response, Miss Mays weeped louder. Miss Blythe’s lips thinned. She raised her voice. “I am taking Agnes upstairs. I shall deal with her there. I shall leave Mr. Stassart to you, Lucinda.”

Lucinda waited until Miss Blythe had guided Miss Mays from the room before she rounded wrathfully upon her cousin. “How could you, Ferdie? When I expressly told you last night that Agnes was not to be treated like some light-skirt.”

Ferdie threw up his hand. “I admit that I was off my head for a few moments. I was seduced by her playing of the pianoforte and—”

“What rot!” exclaimed Lucinda. “The truth is that you took advantage of an ignorant young woman, not taking a thought to anything else but your own selfish desires!”

“I knocked him down for that, Lucinda,” offered Lord Mays in a conciliating way.

“Thank you, Wilfred! I wish you had milled him down a few more times for good measure!” said Lucinda.

Lord Mays coughed. “Couldn’t very well do that, my dear. Miss Mays wouldn’t let me.”

Lucinda stared at Lord Mays, her fury momentarily suspended. “Not let you? Whatever do you mean? Why, Agnes was in hysterics just now. I would have thought she would have been egging you on to it!”

Ferdie gave a nasty laugh. “Your little sister-in-law gave me her lap and nursed my head, dear cousin. She only fell into strong hysterics at sight of Miss Blythe. I can’t say that I blame her for that. That woman has always given me a strong desire to spit.”

“Mind your tongue, you!” warned Lord Mays.

Mr. Stassart honored his lordship with a mocking bow. “Forgive my lapse, my lord. Behold, I am all contrition.”

Lord Mays gave a snort of disgust. He turned to Lucinda. “For all that he is a dashed court-card, Stassart speaks the truth of the matter.”

“Court-card! You slander me, my lord. I admit that I am nice in my tastes and perhaps a bit finicky in my dress.
But I
am no court-card!”

Lord Mays ignored Mr. Stassart’s indignant digression. “Once I had knocked down Stassart, Cousin Agnes flew
into
me with the most astounding denunciations. She accused
me
of practically murdering Stassart here and took his head in
her
lap. Lucinda, I swear to you that I was never more thrown
off
balance than when she turned around on me as though I were a criminal.”

“I do not believe it!” exclaimed Lucinda, having difficulty reconciling this picture with what she had envisioned to have happened.

“The sooner you have this fellow out of your house, the better it will be for you,” said Lord Mays.

“Yes, indeed! Ferdie, I was just coming to tell you, and
now
I may do so with even greater pleasure! I am throwing
you
out, Ferdie. Lord Mays has persuaded Lord Levine to take
you
in. How he protects you from the tipsters is your worry,
for I
wash my hands of you!” said Lucinda.

Ferdie drew himself up with an assumption of grand dignity. He adjusted his sling with a fussy air. “I shall not
hold
these hasty periods against you, cousin. I recognize that
you
are overwrought. It is only what one might expect of a high-strung beauty.”

“Shall I help him along, Lucinda?” asked Lord Mays with a suggestive flexing of his hands.

“Pray do,” said Lucinda cordially.

Ferdie stepped backward, putting some distance between himself and Lord Mays. “I am just going,” he said hastily, defensively. “However, there is a bit of a difficulty. My pockets are to let. I haven’t even the fare for a hackney. Dearest cousin, may I make so bold and request an advance of you?”

“How much do you lack, Ferdie?” asked Lucinda quietly, a strange smile touching her lips.

“A few hundred pounds. That is all that I require. I daresay that I could squeeze by on that,” said Ferdie promptly.

Lucinda turned her gaze on Lord Mays. There was a mischievous light in her eyes. “What say you, my lord? Shall I frank Ferdie to the tune that he lacks?”

Lord Mays regarded her for a moment with a frown, which abruptly cleared. He gave a bark of laughter. “By all means! I have no objection, for it is a reasonable request.”

Ferdie looked at Lord Mays almost with friendliness. “I say, that is deuced decent of you, Mays. I never expected you to come the pretty.”

Lucinda went to the door and called for the butler. Quietly, she made a request. The butler nodded and reached into his own pocket. He withdrew a few pound notes and some coins. Lucinda scooped up what she needed, thanked the butler, and turned back to her cousin. She put out her hand, and automatically his hand rose to meet hers.

“Here you are, Ferdie—the price of a hackney fare,” she said cheerfully. She dropped the meager amount into his outstretched palm.

Ferdie stared at what he held. Then he raised his head. He smiled. “Very amusing, I am sure. But let us end this game, dear cousin. Am I not to be properly provided for?”

Lucinda raised her slim brows. “Ferdie, you complained that you did not have the price of a hackney fare. I have provided it. I believe that I have fully honored your request.”

Ferdie’s face hardened. He would have liked to have thrown down the sum he had been given, but it was not in his nature to toss away his substance except on the game tables. “I now know what I am thought of, I see. You will rue this day, my fine lady.”

“Are you threatening Lady Mays?” barked Lord Mays. He did not move, but he positively emanated a threatening presence. Very quietly, he said, “If I hear one whisper, one innuendo, I shall come after you, Stassart. Then we shall see how well you do without a female’s skirts to hide behind!”

Ferdie’s pale countenance lost another shade. Lord Mays’s expression was smoldering, his wide stance remarkably menacing. Ferdie recalled that his lordship was accounted as quite a bruiser in the ring. Vividly he recalled the power behind the one blow that had knocked him off his feet. His instinct for survival was roused to alarm.

Ferdie began edging toward the door. “You misunderstand me, my lord. I would not dream of offering threat to my cousin. Dear me, no! I meant merely that dear Lucinda’s conscience, which has been oddly suspended throughout this unfortunate episode, shall some day smite her.”

He was near enough to the door then to breathe a little freer, and he could not resist the final word. “I shall await in confidence for that day and your certain apologies, dear cousin!” Then he nipped through the door, slamming it shut behind him, and was gone.

Lucinda went straight into a peal of laughter. She fell into a wing chair, her head falling back against the cushions, still laughing. Lord Mays rested his elbows on the back of another chair and regarded her with a smiling face.

A few moments later, Lucinda regained some measure of control. She shook her head at Lord Mays, still chuckling. “I never thought to see my cousin put at such disadvantage.
It
was truly a delight to behold!”

Lord Mays placed his hand over his heart and inclined his head, taking an actor’s bow. He straightened, his crooked grin in place, saying, “I was happy to be of service once again. It is becoming a habit with me, it seems.”

Lucinda stood up and crossed to him. She took his hand
and
laid the back of it against her cheek. “You are becoming a very nice habit, Wilfred.”

Her smiling gaze looked straight into his eyes. Lord Mays sobered. He reached up his other hand and touched her face. His fingers caressed her cheek. There came a startled expression into Lucinda’s eyes. What might have been said or done was never to be known, for at that instant the door opened.

Lucinda and Lord Mays broke apart. By the time a footman had entered, a number of feet separated them. Lord Mays was contemplating the view from the window, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Lady Mays was softly running her fingers over the keys of the pianoforte.

The footman paused, sensing something electric in the atmosphere. He was carrying a dustbin and broom. “Begging your pardon, m’lady, but Mr. Church said as how he had noticed that there was a broken vase.”

“Oh, yes,” said Lucinda in a cool voice. “It was accidentally toppled earlier by Mr. Stassart.” She stood, intertwining her fingers in front of her. “I should go up to see how Agnes is doing. She was not feeling well, as you know, my lord.”

“Of course,” said Lord Mays, picking up his cue. He strode forward and took the hand that she held out to him. He stood looking at her for a long moment, then managed to smile. “I shall wait on you another day, my lady.”

Lucinda nodded, and she watched as Lord Mays turned and walked away from her.

Chapter Twenty-four

Miss Mays had naturally been frightened that her shocking lapse with Mr. Stassart had been her ultimate undoing, for Miss Blythe had given her a thundering scold for her foolishness. But Miss Blythe had completely understood that it had not been her fault that Mr. Stassart had tried to kiss her.

“That will happen on occasion. However, Agnes, you showed ingratitude and extreme lack of judgment to then reject Lord Mays’s service on your behalf,” had said Miss Blythe sternly.

“But poor Mr. Stassart!”

Miss Blythe threw up her hand. “Pray do not speak to me of that deceiving creature again, Agnes. I will not hear it! You will do better not to mention his name to her ladyship, either.”

Miss Mays had awaited her interview with Lady Mays with shivering trepidation, for in her mind she had acted so wickedly that she could not be pardoned. However, beyond also giving her a scold, dear kind Lady Mays had not sent her away in disgrace. Thus Miss Mays had not missed a single invitation that was subsequently delivered to Mays House.

In the weeks that followed, Lucinda and her two companions embarked on an orgy of social functions and affairs. One of the most notable was Lady Bishop’s ball.

The gathering itself was a rather insipid affair, Lucinda thought, glancing about her critically at the meager company. However, Lady Bishop had treated the ladies with flattering consideration. Lucinda and Miss Blythe were assured of possible attention from their hostess. Her ladyship had also kept her word and exerted herself to be certain that Miss Mays never lacked for a partner.

Early on, Lady Bishop had introduced her brother to Miss Mays. The Honorable St. Ives Bradford bowed over Miss Mays’s hand and diffidently solicited her for a waltz.

“Oh! I don’t think . . .” Miss Mays threw a rather wild glance at Lucinda.

“My sister-in-law has not yet been to Almack’s, and so she has not been granted permission to waltz,” said Lucinda smoothly. “Perhaps a round dance instead?”

She had been rewarded with such a relieved look from Miss Mays that Lucinda had wondered at it. The Honorable Mr. Bradford had accepted the rebuff with good grace. He had stood beside them for a few minutes, making desultory conversation. His eyes rarely deviated from Miss Mays’s face even when he was addressing Lady Mays. Lucinda thought this, too, was odd. There was little of vanity in her, but she was too used to admiration not to notice its absence. She noticed also her sister-in-law’s nervousness.

When the gentleman at last moved off, she at once inquired, “Agnes, what is it about Mr. Bradford that has you in such a twitter?”

“He ... he looks at me so!” Miss Mays could not articulate herself any better than that, and she cast a despairing glance at Lucinda.