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Chapter 39
It was midmorning when Lucy answered the knock on the door. They weren’t expecting anyone, so she divined that it must be the post. A footman in neat livery stood there. He handed her a letter.
“Special delivery from the Viscount of Thornbridge,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied, wondering what it could be. Silas hadn’t mentioned anything when he’d called the day before. Though, when she opened it, she found that it was the invitation to the party, come at last.
“What is it?” Aunt Joan asked. Lucy held the letter out to her.
“An invitation to the party at their newly-renovated townhouse,” she explained. “They plan to have the renovations completed soon.”
Aunt Joan accepted it, her eyes travelling over the invitation. “How exciting!” she gushed. “We will have to get you a new gown.”
“Why, Aunt Joan?” She had planned to wear her blue and white striped muslin. After all, why spend money when she wasn’t sure she was going to marry Silas, after all? She didn’t believe that she was going to be able to magically turn herself into the viscountess. Why pretend to be a queen when you were a nothing more than a maid in rags?
“Lucy,” her aunt said. “You are the intended of the viscount. You have to look the part!” She gasped, beaming. “You’re going to be Mistress of Thornbridge Manor.”
Lucy felt herself grow pale. She knew nothing of running a large household. She smiled, though inside, she was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Her tiny, happy life with Aunt Joan was going to come to an end. And then, Lucy was going to have a life of struggle, trying to become someone who she clearly was not. Aunt Joan walked quickly down the hall, leaving a stream of excited chatter in her wake.
She was, in her heart, a quiet and reserved person, who was used to her quiet, introspective life. It was going to all come shattering down around her. The ton would talk and they would find her utterly wanting. A complete disappointment! Silas would be so let down.
Lucy steadied herself. She had agreed to it already. She and Silas, while they were not yet engaged, seemed to have an understanding that one was forthcoming. Just as soon as the six-month mourning period for his father was over, he would likely ask her.
She was going to have to face her new life with some measure of bravery and resolve—which was easy enough to say but difficult to conjure up, particularly where neither existed.
Should I say no?she wondered.He’ll be disappointed, for certain, but… maybe it would be for the best.
When she made her way to the parlour, she found that Aunt Joan was dressed to go out.
“Where’s your bonnet?” she asked.
“I—I haven’t gotten it yet.” She swallowed. There was a painful lump in the back of her throat. Tears prickled her eyes, threatening to overflow.
Her aunt studied her closely. “What’s the matter? Don’t think that I haven’t noticed how much quieter you’ve been all of a sudden.”
Aunt Joan had always noticed when she was upset. Lucy couldn’t hide it from her. She exhaled, then sat down on the settee. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“Aunt Joan,” she began, then paused, swallowing back the painful lump. Her aunt sat down on one of the armchairs, taking her hand and pressing it gently.
“Tell me, dear.”
“How am I supposed to become the Viscountess of Thornbridge?” she asked. She couldn’t believe how short-sighted she had been. “I couldn’t even stand being a guest in the countryside for a weekend. How am I supposed to be the hostess? How amIsupposed to throw balls? Me, Lucy Wilds, an orphan and a societal hermit? Silas claims that I’ll have help, and that we can take it slowly, but… what if I am never able rise to the occasion?”
Aunt Joan smiled. “I know that it’s not your expertise,” she said tactfully. “But I’m sure that you will be able to rise to the occasion.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Lucy insisted.
“You know that you’re going to have help,” Aunt Joan reminded her. “I’ll be there, and Dinah. Miss Sweet knows what she’s doing, and I also have some knowledge of these matters, unmarried as I am.”
Lucy’s tears were hot on her cheeks as they began to fall. “I’m not the sort to be a fine lady and to run a household. I’m going to feel like an imposter. And the worst thing is, everyone will know it.”
“Oh, Lucy!” Aunt Joan gasped, reaching out to take her hand.
“I just… I wasn’t thinking when I accepted Silas’ request to court me. When I met him, he was not a viscount, but now… he is, and that means something,” she sobbed.
“But you learn,” Aunt Joan said. “You can learn. You are the most intelligent and witty woman of my whole acquaintance. If anyone can become a fine lady, it’s you.”
Lucy looked into her aunt’s eyes. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks. She was devastated that she was going to have to turn down Silas’ offer of marriage. She felt as though her heart were breaking. “I’m going to have to end it, aren’t I? I cannot marry him.”
