Page 17 of A Lady in Name

Lucy could not but feel sorry for Dion, who had gamely attempted to introduce several subjects of small talk for the remainder of dinner, while she and Lord Pennington had spoken less than two words to each other. Lucy had never been more glad of the custom for ladies to leave the table first, and she followed Dion with alacrity, refusing to meet his lordship’s eyes as she passed.

“I am sorry to have been so uncivil at dinner, Dion. It must have been very uncomfortable for you.”

“Never mind that,” said the other, taking her favourite perch on the sofa in the Red Saloon. “Please tell me why you will not stay. What did Stefan say to you to make you so cross?”

Lucy ignored the question, opting to answer only the first part. “I cannot live upon your brother’s bounty, under the circumstances.”

“But the circumstances are precisely why you can,” Dion objected. “I know Stefan, and if he can make a duty out of protecting you, he will.”

“I do not need his protection!”

Dion made a face at her. “He phrased it badly, I expect.”

“Badly? He did not phrase it at all,” stated Lucy baldly. “He practically ordered me to remain.”

“Oh, dear, how typical,” said Dion, but her eyes danced. “Stefan has been dictatorial from a child. He drove his nurses to distraction.”

“I can readily believe it.”

She was little mollified to see how the situation amused Dion, but she could not help softening a little when that young lady’s bright eyes dimmed suddenly.

“But if you don’t stay here, Lucy, what in the world will you do?”

Lucy shrugged away a feeling of discomfort. “I shall find employment.”

Dion’s face fell. “As what? I suppose I may guess. A governess or companion. You cannot wish to be a drudge, Lucy.”

“Of course I don’t wish for it.” Lucy caught her tongue on the snap, and softened her tone. “But even less do I wish to be beholden to the family of Lord Pennington. I am talking of your deceased uncle, not your brother.”

“You mean your father,” said Dion, a note of deliberation in her voice.

Lucy shuddered uncontrollably. “I will not have him named so.”

“I beg your pardon. Only I learned from my own papa that it is futile to ignore the truth. One can only deal with it if one first accepts it.”

Yes, Papa had said the same. But Lucy was not ready to allow the relationship. The moment she realised this, her way became clear. She spoke without thought.

“I cannot remain in this house, Dion, to live in the vicinity of those who must, through no fault of their own, be a constant reminder of my condition. Most of all, I cannot usurp a position for which I am wholly ineligible. I may be your cousin, but I am not worthy to be called so.”

To her shocked surprise, Dion’s eyes filled and tears chased one another down her cheeks. She rose and in a moment was beside Lucy, who felt her hands seized in a convulsive grip.

“I am so very sorry. Oh, Lucy, forgive me. I had not thought how dreadful it must be for you. Here I have been positively enjoying the situation, without paying the slightest attention to your feelings. It is too bad of me. And so typical, I am afraid. Can you forgive me?”

Thoroughly taken aback, and yet moved by the note of appeal and the falling tears, Lucy found herself returning the pressure of Dion’s fingers.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she uttered. “Pray don’t cry, Dion. I had far rather have you giggling than weeping on my account.”

Dion smiled through her tears. “You had best take full advantage of my penitence, dear Lucy. Stefan will tell you it is a rare event.”

Lucy could not forbear an answering smile. “In that case, I will confess myself relieved.”

“I won’t press you any more, I promise, but I do so wish you might change your mind. You will never be made to feel your unenviable position in this house.”

Except, thought Lucy, she was made to feel it in every way, if only by default. She longed suddenly for the vicarage, the old days when her evenings were spent in ever interesting talks with Papa, or in reading if he were out upon his duties. Unknowing, she spoke aloud, and from the heart.

“I just want to go home.”

In the open doorway, Stefan lingered briefly, the echo of Lucy’s utterance haunting in his mind. He stepped quietly back into the hall, gently closing the door, sure that neither of the women had noticed him.