The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables Book 2) (33 page)

Tindall blinked. “Perhaps a bit of it will rub off on me, my lord.”

Andrew wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly, but then laughed when he realized he had. “Perhaps. An added benefit of the position.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Put like that, it seemed an excellent opportunity, and an improvement over his current employment situation. Andrew was suddenly sad to see him go. Hell and damnation, what was wrong with him? All this melancholy feeling about friends and retainers and women, and
damn it
.

He nodded. “When will you be leaving?”

“A fortnight, if it’s convenient for you to find a replacement before then.”

It wouldn’t be convenient, but it was necessary. “Yes, thank you. And congratulations.”

“Thank you, my lord. I’ll prepare your clothing for this evening.” He began to turn.

“Don’t bother,” Andrew said, halting Tindall’s movements. “I won’t be going out.” He planned to curl up with a bottle of gin instead. Change, it seemed, was going to take some work.

Tindall nodded and left.

Andrew’s insides curdled. He was losing Tindall and Charles. He’d excise Beaumont and the others. And he’d already lost Lucy. The dark despair that had choked him for so long after his family had died washed over him, signaling another attack. Damn it, he was tired of losing himself to the pain. It was his own fault for opening himself up as he had with these people.
 

His eye caught the last missive he’d received from Sadler about the parachuting excursion the day after tomorrow. Thinking about that offered a modicum of relief, of hope. He reread the letter, letting thoughts of flying high and conquering another adventure soothe him.

The memory of his last balloon ascent invaded his thoughts, and his traitorous mind turned to Lucy—her face providing solace when he’d regained consciousness, her care as she’d helped him to the house, her passion when he’d invited her to stay.

He gulped for air, suddenly breathless, as panic surged through him.
 

Stop it,
he told himself.
She isn’t dead. She will live on and enjoy a happy life. Just not with you.

He bolted from the chair and dashed straight to the gin bottle sitting on the table in the corner. If he had to spend the next week drunk, he’d banish her from his mind. He had to.

Chapter Eighteen

L
ucy stared bleakly at the bustling street as the coach made its way to Lady Satterfield’s for tea with Aquilla and Ivy. She’d allowed herself a day to grieve the loss of Andrew, silly as that was, but here it was the second day, and she still felt heartbroken, damn him.
 

Grandmama had been greatly disappointed to hear that he wouldn’t be calling again. But this morning she was back to championing Edgecombe and looking forward to perchance seeing him at the ball they planned to attend that night.

Lucy didn’t want to go. She’d had enough of Society events, of pretending to care about finding a husband, of comporting herself as everyone expected. She wanted to don trousers, race in Hyde Park, and shoot at Manton’s. She wanted to go to Andrew’s town house and shake him until his head rolled off. This vision gave her a moment’s perverse satisfaction until sadness overtook her emotions.

The coach stopped in front of Lady Satterfield’s, and the footman helped her out. She went inside, and the butler showed her up to the drawing room, where Aquilla and Ivy were already seated.
 

Aquilla jumped up and hugged her. “How are you?”

They’d heard of her promenade with Andrew the other day. Apparently it had been a choice piece of gossip that evening, particularly after Andrew had appeared to be angry with his friend Charles. Both Ivy and Aquilla had sent notes to Lucy, but with varying tones, of course. Aquilla wanted to know what had happened and hoped things with Andrew were perhaps progressing. Ivy, on the other hand, had hoped that Lucy would continue with her plan and that Andrew would have no part of it because she didn’t need him. Neither of them knew what had transpired after the ball the other night. She hadn’t seen them since then, but even if she had, she wasn’t sure she would tell them.

She felt like a fool for continuing her association with Andrew, especially in a sexual manner, and blamed herself for the anger and hurt she now felt. He’d been clear from the start and all along the way. It was her feelings that had taken a detour and thrown her entire plan off course.
 

She did, however, blame him for giving her hope. His proposal had been surprising, but when she’d had a moment to let it sink in, she’d been thrilled. Delighted. Overcome with joy. Until Charles had shown up and revealed the true nature of Andrew’s intent.

“I’m fine,” she answered, forcing a smile. She sat in a chair and pulled off her gloves.

Aquilla sank down on the settee next to Ivy, exchanging a worried look with her. Lucy braced herself.

“You don’t look fine,” Aquilla said. “That was a feeble attempt at a smile.”

“Actually, it was a rather Herculean attempt, if you must know.” Lucy wished she could take that back. She didn’t want to be maudlin or focus any more energy on Andrew. He didn’t deserve it.

Ivy grinned. “How I adore your wit.”

The comment reminded her of something Andrew had said once. Would everything remind her of him? This business of falling in love was horrid. She hoped falling out of love happened just as quickly and with far more success.

Aquilla peered intently at Lucy. “I am, of course, dying to know what happened in the park. Were you and Dartford merely planning your next excursion, or was there more to it?”

Lucy had been a fool to think she could avoid discussing him today, but she had to at least try. “There is nothing between us any longer.”

Aquilla blinked. “Nothing?” She sounded disappointed.

Contrariwise, Ivy appeared relieved. “He was looking for you at the ball the other night. I told him to leave you alone. I’m sorry he didn’t listen to me, but it sounds as though you set him straight.”

Lucy snapped her head toward Ivy. “What did he say?”

“That he didn’t deserve you. I quite agree, but then I did say it first, and he merely agreed.”

If he thought that, why would he propose? Because he’d wanted to protect her from scandal. When that threat had passed, he’d been free to let her go. Only, he hadn’t initiated that—she had. He’d said no one had made him think twice about marriage until her. He’d also said it would solve many problems, including their mutual attraction. No, he hadn’t mentioned love, but when she thought of what she knew of him, she wondered if that emotion wouldn’t frighten him to death.

Death.

What a perfectly awful choice of words.

“Lucy, what’s wrong?” Aquilla asked. “You look pale.”

She held her hand to her mouth briefly before dropping it and allowing her friends to come into focus. “I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

Lucy surrendered to the emotions catapulting through her. She didn’t want to be sad. She wanted to be happy. After everything she’d been through, she deserved that. And so did Andrew. “I love him. Lord help me, but I do. And,
I think
, he loves me too.”

Aquilla’s eyes brightened as she grinned. “How wonderful!”

“Why would you think that?” Ivy sounded skeptical and predictably pessimistic.

“He asked me to marry him.”

Aquilla gasped and brought her hand to her chest. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

Ivy looked at her sharply. “Because she said no. At least, that’s my assumption since you came in here declaring your association was finished. For the second time, I might add.”

Aquilla rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “Goodness, Ivy, must you be so very negative?”

Lucy smiled. “It’s all right. Ivy has her reasons for being guarded. Just as Andrew has his reasons for being tentative. I told you he lost his entire family. He suffers nightmares and distressing bouts of—” She looked around as if she could find the word she wanted sitting on a table or hanging on the wall. “Anxiety, I would say. Or despondency. Probably both and much more. He holds himself back from relationships, I think.”

“Fascinating,” Aquilla said. “What are you going to do?”

Lucy’s mind was racing, along with her pulse. There was every chance he wouldn’t want her—that he really
had
only proposed to protect her reputation and that he’d been relieved when she’d turned him down. “I’m not sure. But I have to talk to him.”

“You have a kind heart, Lucy,” Ivy said quietly. “I hope he realizes what a treasure he has in you.”

Lucy smiled at her friend. “Thank you. I think he might.” She hoped so.

She stood abruptly, drawing on her gloves. Now that she knew what she wanted, she was eager to make it happen. “I have to go.”

Aquilla looked up at her. “Where? You can’t just show up at his town house.”

No, she couldn’t, not if she wanted to maintain her reputation. What did she care if she was to be married? Because maybe she
wouldn’t
be married. A chill raced up her spine as she contemplated a future without him. She thought she’d resolved herself to that but realized she’d still nurtured a bit of hope. It had just taken her friends to fan it into action.

“Send him a note and ask him to meet you in the park later,” Ivy said, surprising Lucy with her advice.
 

Aquilla looked at her and blinked. “Ivy, are you in support of this? I can scarcely believe it.”

“I’m in support of whatever makes Lucy happy. Even if it is a man.” Her lips spread into a smile that made her eyes sparkle.

“You should do that more,” Aquilla said. “You really are beautiful.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “Please.”

Lucy was already thinking ahead to meeting Andrew at the park. How could she ensure that he came? If he was concerned about her reputation, she’d threaten to go to his house. That ought to provoke him to meet her. “Can I send the note from here?” she asked.

“Of course.” Aquilla jumped up from the settee. “We can go downstairs to the library. Lord and Lady Satterfield have gone to the balloon ascension.”

Lucy froze. She’d completely forgotten that was today. Andrew would be going up. And then he would be coming down. Via parachute. Her heart twisted as she thought of him falling to the earth. That hadn’t ended too well for him the other day. He was fine, but would he be today?

“Do you know what time the ascension is?” Lucy asked, her heart thundering.

“At three, I think,” Aquilla said.

Lucy glanced at the clock on the mantel. That was in less than half an hour. With the crowd, they might not make it in time. “We need to get to Burlington House right away.”

Ivy rose. “Why?”

“Because Andrew is going to parachute out of a balloon, and I should like to give him a reason not to risk his life.” She only hoped it would be a good enough one.

Aquilla immediately strode toward the door. “I’ll have the coach brought around posthaste.”

“Thank you,” Lucy called after her. She turned to Ivy. “I hope we’re not too late.”

“You won’t be,” Ivy said, smiling. “You’ll save him.”

She only prayed he wanted to be saved.

A
ndrew stood with Sadler amidst the roaring crowd at Burlington House. The parachute device, consisting of a framed canopy with a small basket, was affixed to the balloon. Once they were at the proper altitude, Andrew would climb into the basket from the balloon’s gondola, and Sadler would cut the parachute free.