Page 27 of A Lady in Name

A tight band seemed to close about Lucy’s chest. Was it possible Aunt Harriet had known all along?

“But how could she suppose you might be eligible to be married?” asked Dion, echoing her own thought.

Stefan moved to perch on the desk, crossing long legs. Lucy shifted in her chair, watching him sideways. “What is in your mind, Stefan?”

His eye turned on her, no hint within it of what he was mulling over. “What sort of man had your aunt in mind for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Of what condition would he be? It is evident she thought Mr Waley suitable. He is a mere curate. A respectable match.”

“For the vicar’s daughter?” put in Dion. “Yes, most respectable.”

“Then I dare say your aunt meant you to marry someone of his ilk, a man for whom your antecedents must be relatively unimportant.”

“As long as no one knew,” said Dion darkly. She seemed to feel Lucy’s immediate dismay, for she added, “I beg your pardon, dearest Lucy, but nothing is to be gained by mealy-mouthed speaking.”

Stefan nodded. “I agree. And I believe Lucy’s mind is of an order to look the truth in the face without a tremor.”

Lucy grimaced. “Not quite without a tremor, but I thank you for that.”

He grinned at her. “A first, Lucy. I must be growing on you.”

She was obliged to laugh. “Until you try to take over my life again and drive me into losing my temper.”

Stefan’s eye gleamed, and Lucy was conscious of a sliver of warmth somewhere inside her. “I cannot promise not to do so again. Habits of command are hard to break.”

“Will you stick to the point?” begged Dion. “Have we established to our satisfaction that your aunt does know of your heredity?”

Lucy puzzled a moment. “I am unsure. At the funeral she invited me to live with her. Would she have done so had she known?”

“Just a moment.” Stefan was frowning again. “If you had the chance of a home with your aunt, what induced you to come seeking my uncle?”

Dion snorted. “Well, if you can’t tell that, brother dear, you must be all about in the head.”

Lucy had shrunk from the question and could only be grateful to Dion. But Stefan was obviously unsatisfied.

“Enlighten me, then, sister dear.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Lucy thought her aunt did not know about her true parentage. Naturally she would reject the notion. Anyone would.”

“And sue instead to a chancy relative? Besides, Lucy had no expectation of receiving money from me — or rather, from my uncle.”

“But it was a possibility,” Lucy cut in. “Oh, I didn’t expect it. Perhaps deep down, I hoped my appearance would induce Lord Pennington to pay me off. I don’t know what I was thinking, to be truthful. I had determined, in any event, on earning my living in whatever way was open to me.”

“Rather than marry the curate? Rather than make a home with your aunt?”

“Stefan, for goodness’ sake! Did I not tell you Lucy thought her aunt was ignorant of the truth.”

A sudden thought occurred to Lucy and she jumped up. “But she does know. So there is another path open to me: I could make my home with her.”

She looked to the others and found no echo of her eagerness. Stefan was wearing his ironic look, while Dion wore an expression of pity.

“Why, what? You look as if I had made an outrageous suggestion.”

“Well, I can understand why you might rather choose your aunt than to live with us at Pennington.”

Lucy was swept with remorse. “Forgive me, Dion, I did not mean it so. Whatever my feelings, it cannot but embarrass all of us for me to live at Pennington. You must see that. Whereas if I went to my aunt —”

“She would marry you to Mr Waley,” said Dion dampingly.

Lucy’s rise of hope fled away. She glanced at Stefan, and found him enigmatic, his eyes fixed on her face.

“You would consider it, then?”

“No, she couldn’t,” uttered Dion, revulsion in her face. “You would not, would you, Lucy?”

The thought was anathema. But of all the options open to her, Mr Waley, whom she liked and admired for all his lack of personable qualities, was the least unwelcome. Lucy hardly knew she spoke aloud.

“I would marry him only if he knew the truth.”