Page 74 of A Lady in Name

“Very true, ma’am.”

Lucy threw Stefan a grateful look, trying for a measure of composure. She had not foreseen that an elderly woman whose sight must be in question would so readily note the resemblance. It could not but touch upon the wound of her reason for being here in the first place. She threw out the first thing that came into her head, anxious to deflect the old lady from any further investigation into her true identity.

“I understand you never married, Lady Dorothea.”

The eyeglass thankfully dropped. “I was not permitted to ally myself with the man I would have chosen, so I refused to marry at all. In my day, we did the bidding of our parents.”

“Except that you did not,” Stefan pointed out.

“Because I did not choose to marry another? Poppycock. My father washed his hands of me. Turned his attention to my sister instead.”

“How very sad,” uttered Lucy impulsively.

“Marriage ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, my girl. Pennington knows that, I’ll wager.”

Stefan laughed. “On the contrary, Aunt. It happens I have the most ardent desire to be married.”

Up went the eyeglass, this time thankfully directed upon Stefan. Lady Dorothea snorted. “What you mean is you’ve fallen in love with some hopeless ineligible. Nothing ardent about an earl’s marriage plans, boy.”

The uncanny accuracy of Lady Dorothea’s statement threw Lucy into disorder. How in the world was she to live with a creature as embarrassingly outspoken as this? She dared not look at Stefan, and could only be glad he came down on the side of prudence and said no more.

The old lady once more let her eyeglass fall, but her oddly riveting gaze remained fixed upon Stefan, and her look became direful. “You ain’t going to fall into the same foolish error young Beves made, are you, boy? He was lucky, for the creature died and he was never called upon to confess his misdeeds. Shocking misalliance. My brother would have crucified him.”

Stefan felt as if his mind was tucked behind a veil of gauze, numbed with bated shock. Had his ears deceived him? He glanced at Lucy and found her wide-eyed and rapidly paling. As well she might.

He found his tongue. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but what are you saying?” His tongue ran dry and he was obliged to swallow and start again. “Are you saying my uncle Beves married a second time?”

Lady Dorothea looked pained. “Something wrong with your understanding, Pennington? Did I not just say so?”

Stefan let out a half-laugh of incredulity. “Yes, but it is so unexpected, I could not be sure I had heard you correctly.”

“When?”

The painful intensity of Lucy’s single utterance told him more vividly than any words how vital to her was the answer. He wanted to reach out and seize her hand. Instead, he reiterated her question. “When, Aunt? When did this marriage take place?”

The old lady sat back, her chin going up as she contemplated the ceiling, as if she sought there for the answer. “I am not certain of the time. My brother yet held the earldom.”

“You mean Grandfather Fulbert?” Stefan put in, desperate to have all clear.

“I had only one brother who was Earl of Pennington. Of course your Grandfather Fulbert,” snapped Lady Dorothea irascibly.

“Do you say my uncle Beves confessed all this to you?” pursued Stefan.

“He wouldn’t tell anyone else,” she said, as if they ought to have known. “Had to tell someone, I suppose. I advised him to confess it to his father and take the consequences. But before he could do so, word came the woman had fortuitously died.”

“Leaving a child whom my uncle refused to recognise,” burst from Stefan without will, springing from his seat in a sudden access of fury.

The abrupt movement tugged Lucy out of her stupor. The words had flowed to and fro across the room, and all the while the only thing she was aware of was the slow and heavy pumping in her chest. Bemused, she watched Stefan pacing, his fists tightly clenched. The possibility just opened up was so impossible she knew not how to look it in the face. She was hardly aware of speaking, her words addressed within her own mind only.

“He wedded her. Then he left her. Friendless and alone. But he did wed her.”

“Scoundrel,” growled Stefan, turning to glare across the room at Lucy, as if she were at fault. “I thought I had known the worst of him when you came to me, Lucy, but this beats all!”

“What in the world are you talking about, Pennington?”

Lucy’s eyes were drawn to the old lady, whom they had both forgotten in the press of this precious intelligence. Lady Dorothea was sitting bolt upright, her stance showing no sign of her advanced years, her snapping eyes travelling from Stefan to Lucy and back again.

She saw Stefan’s glare turn upon his great-aunt, and quickly cut in. “I am Lucy Graydene Ankerville, ma’am. I thought I was the late Lord Pennington’s illegitimate daughter. But now…” Her voice failed as the enormity of the news came home to her. Her eyes pricked, her throat worked and she put her hands over her face.