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Chapter 18
“That farmhouse of yours isgoing to need a woman’s touch now that repairs are underway,” Lady Thurlby said to Lavinia as she took her on a tour of Alderwood. She’d been going into detail about the responsibilities that would be Lavinia’s as mistress of her own household. “The girls and I would be only too willing to go with you into the village to look for fabrics and colors. Those men doing the repairs will slap on a coat of paint in some drab color they find at hand if we don’t act quickly. Paper-hangings, draperies, carpets . . .”
Furnishings for the house had moved near the top in priority. They would need beds and wardrobes and washstands and dishes and cooking utensils and tables and . . . the list went on and on. And they would need those things to begin arriving by next week.
Lucas met them on the landing as Lavinia and Lady Thurlby rounded the corner of the corridor. “There you both are. I’ve been looking for you.”
“We’ve been busy,” the viscountess said. “I have been instructing Lavinia on the management of a household. You need to sit down together sometime soon and talk about furniture for the farmhouse. There is much to be done before Primrose Farm becomes a home for the two of you, from what Thomas and James have told me.”
“I am always willing to set aside time for Lavinia, Mama,” Lucas said. “I am entirely at her disposal.”
The look he gave Lavinia melted her heart and a good deal of her resolve.
“Come,” he said, extending an arm for each of them. “Everyone is waiting.”
“Everyone?” Lavinia asked as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Waiting for what?”
“Goodness! Has Simon arrived? And without my knowing it,” the viscountess said, taking his other arm before they descended the stairway. “That bounder. It’s about time. One would think London was halfway across the globe considering how long it took my two wayward sons to arrive from there.”
“I apologize profusely for my own procrastination.”
“Apology accepted. But just barely.”
Lucas leaned over and kissed his mother on the cheek, and Lavinia lost a little more of her heart to him.
Lavinia discovered when they reached the drawing room that “everyone” included the entire family, minus the children. Hannah, Delia, and Artie were also there.
Simon Jennings stood in the midst of them.
The first thing Lavinia noticed about him was his striking resemblance to James, although his coloring was darker than his brothers; Susan was the only other sibling who had the same dark hair as he. He also had an air of dissipation and ennui about him that robbed him of the vitality he should have had as a young gentleman, especially considering the fact that, according to Lucas, he was a year younger than Lavinia.
“Lavinia, may I present my youngest brother, Simon? Simon, my betrothed, Lavinia Fernley,” Lucas said.
Simon turned to acknowledge Lavinia and stopped, an arrested look on his face.
Lavinia attempted to ignore his expression and extended her hand to him. He bowed over it. “It is an honor to meet the lady who has captured my brother’s heart,” he said. “And such ararebeauty she is too.” He smiled—rather wickedly, it seemed to Lavinia.
His eyes narrowed, and Lavinia’s heart raced. He was studying her too closely. Had he recognized her? Had he been one of the countless young bucks who’d stood on the floor of the Orpheus Theatre nightly, clapping and cheering for Ruby Chadwick as she’d performed in breeches onstage? Was he about to share her secret with Lucas’s entire family? She struggled to maintain her composure.
“Have we met before?” he asked.
“No, sir.” She should say something more, keep the conversation from stalling and giving him time to think, but in her panicked state, her mind was a complete blank.
“You must be right, although I could swear . . .” He paused and Lavinia held her breath. “Well, brother dear, you must tell us how you managed to convince such an exquisite female to marry you. I’m sure James and I would both appreciate some pointers.”
“I said virtually the same thing to him, Simon,” James said. “Except for the pointers part.”
“It’s no great mystery,” Lavinia said, knowing she must be her most convincing self right now. She looked at Lucas. “He is the kindest and most noble man I have ever met, and sharing my life with him would be the greatest honor I could ever hope to have.”
Lucas’s gaze burned intensely at her words.
“You’re sure it’sourLucas you’re talking about?” James asked.
“Oh, I think that’s lovely,” Delia said from her spot on the sofa next to Artie. “Such words ofdevotion; pure declarations of the heart. Don’tyouthink so, Artie?”
“‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; / And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind,’” he replied.
“Ah, yes, indeed,” Delia said. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” she added in explanation, for the sake of the others in the room. “Shakespeare says it so well when therestof us are lacking the words for ourselves.” She stared flatly at Artie.
