Page 10 of A Lady in Name

To call the room a study was ridiculous. With a pang, Lucy recalled Papa’s sanctum, a homely apartment which smelled of must and old leather, its dark wood shelves groaning with books. It had been her delight to sneak in and watch the vicar at his work, his concentrated mind bent upon the text he was studying, his forehead resting upon the folded knuckles of one hand. Lucy would make an inadvertent sound — or perhaps she had meant it to disturb him? — and he would look up, and smile upon seeing her.

“What did you wish to discuss, Miss Graydene?”

Lucy jumped and the memory vanished. She focused on Lord Pennington’s face and found the grey eyes watching her keenly.

“I beg your pardon, I was miles away.”

“So I perceived.”

Impelled, Lucy hurried into speech. “I was thinking how unlike a study is this room.”

His brows rose. “Oh? How should a study look?”

Lucy glanced about the empty spaces. “Well, a good deal smaller, for one thing.” She waved a vague hand at the meagre collection of glass-fronted bookshelves. “I can’t think that you have space for all the papers and accoutrements of such an estate, though you could hold a soirée in here.” She noted a gleam of amusement in his lordship’s eye and felt all the awkwardness of ignorance. “I have no experience of such a house as this.”

“So I perceive,” he said again, much to Lucy’s irritation.

“I dare say you have many such rooms.”

“Too many. Fortunately, my secretary has the chore of keeping track of administrative papers. I imagine you would highly approve of his study. It is jammed to the ceiling with shelves and cabinets.” His eye gleamed again. “I assure you that room is decidedly smaller than this.”

Lucy lifted her chin. “Then perhaps you should think of exchanging.”

He laughed out. “An excellent notion. I shall suggest it to Barnsley, though I doubt he will approve. He feels this room is more suited to my status, particularly when I am obliged to interview my inferiors.”

“Such as myself.”

His brows flew up again. “I was quoting Barnsley. I cannot pretend to have been conscious of any feeling of superiority in your presence, Miss Graydene.”

Lucy was silent. She hardly knew how to take Lord Pennington. He was evidently laughing at her, but despite a tendency to be masterful, he did not appear to be high in the instep. She recalled he had only recently acceded to the earldom.

“Perhaps you are not yet used to the life yourself,” she ventured on impulse. “Or, no — you must have expected to inherit.”

“All my life,” he agreed. “But we lived in a very different style. My father had private means, an inheritance from his godmother. He chose to make full use of it for his own purposes, knowing I was provided for.”

“Do you mean he was profligate?” Lucy could not help a note of censure.

“By no means. Unlike his brother, the earl. But he had a love of adventure. We are a well-travelled family.”

Lucy was still dissatisfied. “But he did not provide for you. What if I had been male?”

The easy air disappeared, replaced by the same steely glint Lord Pennington had worn upon their first encounter this morning. “I hardly think you would have proved an impediment.”

Lucy felt a deep flush suffuse her cheeks, and her bosom filled with chagrin. “No, of course. How foolish of me. I am a natural child of your uncle. There could be no question of my staking any sort of claim.”

There was a silence. Stefan eyed the girl’s stiffened features. That was maladroit. She had not meant anything untoward by a remark made, he was persuaded, in good faith. A touchy subject. Small wonder she was thorny.

“We have wandered from the point,” he said, deliberately cool. “You were anxious to talk to me.”

She did not soften. “On the contrary, my lord. I am here upon your insistence. You are the one who wished to engage in further discussion. I merely wanted to go home.”

Provoked, he hit back. “I was under the impression you no longer had a home.” The wound showed in her eyes and he was instantly disarmed. “I beg your pardon. That was uncalled for.”

Her gaze remained fixed upon him, and Stefan was struck again by the air of deep-felt distress. Her voice was calm, but for the faintest of tremors.

“I am permitted to remain at the vicarage for a little longer. The new appointee is delayed in taking up his post.”

“And after that?” asked Stefan more gently.