Page 55 of The Duke’s Wager

The cook gave her a look full of meaning and shook his head, though a laugh played around his lips. “You can talk to me, my dear. I am not your father, you know.”

Though he said this teasingly, there was a serious note to his voice. Lucy was certain that he was attempting to tell her that whatever secrets she had would be safe with him.

“You’re right,” she said softly, her hands lingering over the plate in front of her. “I would that you were, though. My life would have been so different had I been born as your child instead of—”

She broke off her sentence and shook her head, suddenly sad. He noticed – of course he did – her melancholy tone. When he spoke, his voice was gruff, fraught with unshed tears. “Now, this tea is cold already. Let me make you a fresh cup.”

Though he did not respond directly to her wish of having him as a father, the fact that he’d turned around to make more tea told her everything. As much as she believed that her life would have been better with Nicolas as a father, he believed it too.

“There you are!”

The tender moment was shattered by Maria’s cheerful voice. Today was one of the few days that Lucy did not require Maria’s company at the cemetery, as the other woman had far too much work around the house. It would not have killed Lucy to go somewhere unchaperoned for once, regardless of what her father may have believed. What he didn’t know…

“How was…” Maria hesitated and took a step closer before continuing her sentence. “…the visit to your mother’s grave? Bless her memory.”

Lucy swallowed her smile and looked down at her hands. Maria, sweet as she was, was not subtle by any means. “It was fine.”

“Maria!” Nicolas moved forward with the tea and gently placed the cup in front of Lucy. “Please,” he continued, “do tell me what Lucy does at that cemetery.”

Maria looked at him with a grin. “She visits her mother’s grave, Nicolas. What on earth else would she be doing there?”

“Ha!” It was evident that he did not believe this, for he shook his head with certainty. “Most people who visit a cemetery look rather grim and despondent. Not our little Lucy… at least not lately. She returns from the cemetery with a certain glow about her, and a radiant smile, the likes of which I had last seen—”

He stopped speaking and merely stared at Maria, who suddenly burst out laughing. After a quick look in Lucy’s direction, she started moving around with her broom as though they were in the midst of a romantic waltz.

“I believe, dear Nic, that our Lady Lucy is in loooove!”

Maria pretended to sigh before continuing her mad dance with the broom.

“Maria!” Lucy could not help but laugh, nearly spilling her tea as she giggled. “Stop, this is utterly mad of you!”

“In love? Are you making a mockery, or is it the honest truth? Who could it be? What man is good enough for our dearest Lucy?”

The questions shot from Nicolas like arrows, and Lucy shook her head quickly, a silent plea for Maria to keep her secret. It was futile, for Maria answered almost instantly.

“It’s Lord Edward Lockhart!”

“Lord Edward Lockhart?” To say that Nicolas was shocked would be a severe understatement. He seemed aghast. His eyes were wide in his head and his mouth hung open. He did not move his eyes from Lucy, though he spoke to Maria. “My dear friend, tell me this is a lie.”

“It is not.” Maria sounded rather eager to tell the grand secret. Lucy could truthfully not blame her – at least not wholly. She understood Maria’s desire to share this rather shocking tidbit quite well.

“That’s what she’s been doing at the cemetery,” Maria admitted now, words flowing from her like a river in flood. “They talk there all day long while I sit in the carriage. Rather boring for me, I must admit… But it is a sacrifice that I will gladly make if it allows our lady some happiness.”

Lucy’s cheeks felt as though they were on fire, and she pressed her palms to her face quickly, her eyes closed. “I beg of you both, stop!”

It was fruitless – Maria and Nicolas had decided that she was deeply in love with Edward Lockhart, and they were animatedly discussing what her life as the next Duchess of Hartford would be like.

“Oh, she’ll make the loveliest bride,” Maria squealed now, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Can you not see it, Nicolas? Dressed in white, with red flowers in her hair… She’d look like a princess!”

Rather than be the voice of reason, Nicolas was loudly dreaming along, taking it even further. “Oh, just imagine how beautiful their children would be!”

Maria gasped and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “I had not even thought of that yet! Lord Edward is rather handsome indeed! A little boy like his father, and a girl who would be the spitting image of our Lucy. Oh, Lucy…” Maria turned to her now, and Lucy could swear there were hopeful tears in her eyes. “You will be the most wonderful wife and mother.”

Lucy shook her head and looked at the two with a small smile. “Both of you are mad. I am not marrying Lord Edward, nor am I in love with him!”

They merely looked at her with expressions clearly showing that they did not believe a word coming from her lips, and she sighed.

“Lord Edward and I…” She ignored the juvenile squeals they let out at the start of her sentence and continued softly. “We are merely acquaintances. We happened upon each other at the cemetery…” Maria snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “It is the truth. The first time…”