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Chapter 3
What thedevil?
One minute, Lucas had been nursing his ale and staring at Isobel’s crumpled letter on the table, and the very next, a gray bundle of femininity had fallen into his lap and called himhusband.
He instinctively rose to his feet. Since the lady’s arms were securely around his neck, she invariably came with him.
“Please,” she whispered in his ear when he moved to set her on the floor—his head being drawn down to her height by the arms she’d slung around his neck. “Go along with my ruse.”
Well, then!
He’d been perfectly content procrastinating his inevitable trek upstairs to his room, aware that in the morning he’d have no excuse but to get on his horse and be on his way to Alderwood. Had he not procrastinated, he wouldn’t now be forced to deal with this . . . well, this unaccountablesurprise, for lack of a better term.
“Er, you found me . . . my dear,” he stammered aloud for the benefit of anyone who might be paying attention to them. “What is it you wish me to do?” he asked her in a whisper.
The lady seemed reluctant to show her face to anyone. Lucas had hardly caught a glimpse of it himself. She was still pressed tightly to him, her head tucked in close so the brim of her bonnet hid her face from the room. “I wish to retire, husband, after a long day’s journey, if you don’t mind,” she said, not exactly answering the question he’d asked. Then she added, her voice again in a whisper, “Appear to be a normal husband, and get me out of here.Please.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
With his simple reassurance, she gradually lowered her arms to her side, keeping her head down, and turned away from the room. Lucas reached for his hat and scooped up the crumpled letter, then offered his arm to his mysterious “wife” and proceeded to escort her from the public room—whereto after that he wasn’t entirely sure. But just as they were passing the group of young dandies Lucas had observed drinking and playing cards earlier, one of them came to his feet. “I tell you, it’s her,” the man exclaimed, pointing. “It’s that—”
“If you don’tmind.” Lucas directed his words to the dandy in a tone he’d learned from his best friend, the Earl of Halford. The woman’s hand had gripped Lucas’s arm tightly. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re up to, but I won’t have you disturbing my wife in such a manner.” He glared at the man, who was a good foot shorter than Lucas, making him shrink back into his seat.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” the fellow mumbled. “I was mistaken.”
“Come, my dear,” Lucas said and led her from the room, sensing that all eyes were on the two of them. He was curious to know what the fellow had planned to say, but he’d assured the lady of his assistance, and he was a gentleman who would not go back on his word, so he played his part.
They continued on together, up the stairs and down the corridor toward his room. She still held his arm in a death grip.
Unfortunately, her impulsive move had created a dilemma for them both. Lucas didn’t need a damsel in distress. He needed to figure out what he intended to do with the remainder of his life. He needed to reconcile himself to the uncomfortable situations in which he would find himself once he returned home. And while hehadwanted to delay his return, he hadn’t wanted a reason quite ofthismagnitude. He unlocked the door to his room and opened it wide.
“After you,wife,” he said, gesturing theatrically for her to enter.
She glanced up at him from behind the brim of her bonnet and went inside without an argument. After he closed the door, she turned toward him, her face lowered. Why the devil was this woman so intent on hiding her face? “I suppose I owe you an explanation,” she said.
“That would be helpful,” he said with no little sarcasm.
She sighed and untied the ribbons of her bonnet and then removed it from her head. Underneath it, she wore a large lacy cap, so Lucas still had no idea what she looked like.
“May I have a glass of water first?” she asked.
“Certainly.” He strode to the washstand that sat against the far wall and poured water from the pitcher there into a glass, then brought it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, her face still lowered.
She took the glass and wandered away from him, toward the window that overlooked the stables in the back. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that the men downstairs will pack up and leave anytime soon and I’ll be able to see them ride away on their horses if I were to peek out this window.”
“Undoubtedly,” Lucas said. They hadn’t seemed particularly inclined to move from their spot downstairs, even after Lucas’s public rebuke of their friend.
He waited until she’d drunk her fill. “Let’s begin with an introduction,” he said. “You are . . .”
“Lavinia, er, Fernley,” she replied. She paused briefly as though her name hadn’t come naturally to her lips. Suspicious, that.
“Miss Fernley, how do you do?” he said. “I am Lucas Jennings, obviously at your service, it would seem.”
“Yes,” she said. “And I thank you for it.”
She used her fingers to part the curtains and peeked out at the stable yard.
