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“Thank you, Lavinia,” Lady Thurlby said. “I’m sure the others would agree that theoccasionaltheatrical or imaginative playtime, with their mothers’ prior approval, would be entirely acceptable. There. That is settled. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things to discuss with Cook regarding the betrothal party we’ve arranged for next week.”
The other ladies dispersed soon after the viscountess left the sitting room, leaving Lavinia alone with Delia and Hannah.
Hannah stood and shut the sitting room door before turning to Delia. “What you done is beyond the pale,” she scolded. “It’s bad enough our poor Livvy here was pulled into this betrothal nonsense, nice as Mr. Jennings is, but you talking about love and ‘sharing something wondrous and beautiful,’ as you put it, like it’s a real thing between them two—well, that’s taking it too far.”
“We were to keep as close as possible to the truth, Delia,” Lavinia added. “I care about these people. They are going to be hurt and embarrassed when the truth comes out. I don’t want to make it any worse.” Especially for Lucas. Oh, especially for him.
“As far as I’m concerned, the betrothalisthe truth,” Delia said. “He said the words, didn’t he? I’ve seen the looks he gives you—and you give right back to him. I’m an old actor who’s seen more than my share of good acting in my day—some so convincing it looks as real as I’m sitting here—but Lucas isn’t an actor, dearie, and I’ve been reading his face like a book ever since we met up with him back in London. He looks at you different than all the other gentlemen did—and you know he does.
“You’re a fine actress yourself, Livvy, but I can see what’s in your eyes too. You don’t fool this old woman. I know that look. I’ve felt that look—” Her voice caught. Seasoned actress that she was, she shook off her real emotions and continued on—and Lavinia’s heart broke for her. “Love is a precious thing, Lavinia. Too precious to waste. I should know.” She stood and straightened up, looking like the grand lady of the stage she’d been for so many years. “Now, I believe I shall go to my room and lie down for a while.” She turned to Hannah next. “If you love this girl of ours even half as much as Arthur or I do, Hannah Broome, you’ll convince her that what I said is the truth.” She turned and marched out of the room, as grand an exit as any she’d ever made onstage.
“Don’t say anything, Hannah,” Lavinia warned.
Hannah folded her needlework and placed it in her sewing basket. “I don’t need to,” she said. She rose and kissed Lavinia on her forehead. “Because she’s right—at least when it come to Lucas Jennings. I never seen a man what’s treated you with such respect.”
“And that’s precisely why I won’t force him into a betrothal, Hannah, or allow Delia and Artie to force the issue,” Lavinia said. “I won’t repay his kindness that way. I can’t.”
“That’s as it should be, but it’s a sorry thing too. For I want you to be happy for once in your life, and I think you’ve found a man who has finally seen that you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. And that’s a rare thing, Livvy. A rare thing, indeed.”
* * *
It had felt good spending time with his brothers at Primrose Farm, Lucas thought as he handed off Hector to the stable boy. Now it was time to clear the air with Thomas—and with Isobel too. The few conversations he’d had with either of them since returning home had been uncomfortable. Except for yesterday.
Spending time together, reminiscing and playfully badgering each other as they had done as boys, had felt like old times, and it seemed to Lucas that it might also have worked to soften the edges of the prickly subject that was Thomas’s marriage to Isobel.
Mr. Allard had done a fine job supervising the laborers repairing the farmhouse. It wasn’t difficult to imagine it being ready for occupants within the week. Considering its dilapidated state a mere few days ago, Allard and his men had worked something of a miracle.
A miracle that would take Lavinia away from him.
He and his brothers had discussed Lavinia on the way to and fromPrimrose Farm. They had been brimming with questions about her: Where did they meet, where was she from, where did thathaircome from, what could she possibly see inhim(that particular question had come from James), and did he worry that others would assume she wasn’tmodestenough (that tactfully worded question had come from Isaac)?
Lucas had kept his answers brief and to the point: they had met in London (without telling them when or how), her family at least partly hailed from Lincolnshire (pointing to Primrose Farm as evidence), she obviously had good taste (that one in response to James’s question), and she’d been given her glorious beauty from God, so God-fearing people should not be inclined to judge her based on it (that one in response to Isaac).
“You’re one lucky devil,” James declared to Lucas as they walked toward the house. They had lagged behind the two other brothers.
“You think so?” Lucas replied, knowing he alone understood the irony in his words.
“Yes, I do. You survived seven years in the army and on the Peninsula, which, I understand, is a remarkable feat in itself. You have an absolutely stunning bride-to-be, who appears to be quite devoted to you—andonlyyou, although, with looks like hers, she could have her pick of any man.”
“Agreed,” Lucas said.
“How she managed to escape London with you before finding herself scooped up by some wealthy nabob or duke is a mystery I think many gentlemen would find intriguing. Me included.”
James’s phrase “managed to escape” made the hairs on Lucas’s neck stand on end. James was so near the truth that Lucas wondered for a moment if his barrister brother had gained inside knowledge about Lavinia in some clandestine manner. And how ludicrous was that? As though James could have known beforehand that she was even here. Ridiculous.
“As I was saying,” James continued. “You land a gloriously beautifulbride, who also happens to be an heiress, after surviving years of war as an enlisted man, to boot. I think, perhaps, you are the most successful Jennings brother of us all—or at least the luckiest. And still a relatively young buck too. Quite unfair.”
“You wish to marry?” Lucas asked. James had always been so academically driven and focused on his career that Lucas thought his older brother would never allow time for a wife and family.
James shrugged and whacked some mud from his boot with his crop. “Not in the immediate future, no. Too many professional duties to attend to at present. But when I see my other brothers—and now you, too, in such happy circumstances . . . it makes a man think.”
For the merest of moments, Lucas wondered if he should tell James his secret regarding his betrothal. It would have been nice to discuss it with him, unburden himself a bit, and feel he had a family member who had his back when he finally confessed the truth about the betrothal. But he wouldn’t put Lavinia and her friends at risk, so any thoughts he had of confiding in James died a quick death.
James, and everyone else, would find out soon enough. It was going to feel like a very short week, Lucas suspected.
* * *
As Lucas headed toward the stairs on his way to breakfast the following morning,he could hear that someone had just arrived at Alderwood. The arrival of aperson or persons this early in the morning could mean only one of two things:either his brothers had gone out for a morning ride without him, which hedoubted—one of his brothers surely would have invited him along—or Simonhad finally arrived, with or without the Home Office’s intervention on theirmother’s behalf.
