Page 26 of A Lady in Name

Dion at last piped up. “And what shall I do while you are gone? There is not room for three in your curricle, Stefan.” Mischief entered her face. “I know. I shall entertain Mr Waley for you, Lucy. The poor man is dreadfully set down. I think he must be in love with you, Lucy.”

Reminded of her grievance, Lucy bounded up from her chair to confront Stefan, wholly ignoring Dion’s remarks. “Why did you do that? You should not have spoken for me.”

Those ironic brows rose. “What, will you upbraid me when you clearly needed rescuing?”

“I did not!”

“You had no notion what to say to the man, or how to explain the presence of Dion and myself.”

Lucy bridled. “That may be true, but I would have thought of something acceptable.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, do stop it, the two of you,” cut in Dion in exasperated accents. “I cannot think why you are so cross, Lucy. You surely can’t be wishing to marry the man?”

“That is beside the point,” said Lucy, vainly trying to command her spleen. “Stefan had no right to make it impossible for Mr Waley to make me an offer.” She turned on him again. “You could not know my wishes in the matter.”

His lip curled. “Could I not? When you have so vehemently decried your state of illegitimacy? He does not know of it, that much is evident. And I cannot suppose you would marry him without informing him of the truth.”

That he had so accurately read her character did not endear him to Lucy. Rather it exacerbated her annoyance. “You are making assumptions.”

“Which,” put in Dion judiciously, “are fair ones, Lucy, you must admit.”

“Whether they are or not is scarcely germane,” she uttered in frustration. “What I am trying to make your bull-headed brother understand is that he has no right to make them.”

“Bull-headed now, am I? I thought I was high-handed and autocratic.”

“You are all three,” Lucy threw at him. “I wish you will stop interfering. It was you brought Mr Waley here in the first place. And I should also like to know how you came to do that.”

To her renewed irritation, Stefan folded his arms and adopted the look of cool control she so much disliked. “Nothing simpler, Lucy. I went in search of the man.”

She stared at him, a sense of blank futility in her head.

“I found him in the church,” he added unnecessarily.

“But why look for him at all? What has it do with you? I told you I meant to find him for myself.”

“Then you should be grateful to me.”

Feeling the more befogged, Lucy looked to Dion for succour. She giggled. “I am as mystified as you are, Lucy. I can’t think what possessed him.”

Lucy sat down abruptly, her gaze shifting back to Stefan’s face. A slow pulse began to beat in her ears as a half-formed thought wreathed in her brain. An impossible thought, one she could not begin to accept. Jealousy as a motive? Absurd. There must be some other explanation.

Before she could tie herself in knots trying to fathom his mind, Stefan spoke again. “I have a question. This aunt, of whom we have previously heard no mention, who is she?”

“Yes, you spoke of her earlier today,” said Dion brightly.

Lucy sighed. “She is Papa’s sister. Aunt Harriet. But of course she is not really my aunt, I know that now.”

“And she does not know about the Pennington connection, I suppose,” Dion guessed.

“I believe not. I cannot suppose Papa told her.”

She found Stefan’s penetrating eye upon her. “Why not?”

“Because she had every expectation of my being married. Papa put her off the notion, saying he was not ready to be rid of me yet awhile. Aunt Harriet was wont to reprove him, saying I would soon be on the shelf. Papa always responded that he had my future mapped out and needed no help from his sister.”

She saw Stefan’s deepening frown and wondered at it. Slowly he shook his head. “No, it won’t fadge, Lucy. Did you not tell me Mrs Graydene died before you were born? Your aunt cannot have been ignorant of the circumstances of your birth.”