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Edward laughed and stilled her questions with a kiss. He noticed that his ward had still not said a word. “Lucille? Does my news not please you?” he asked. Instead of answering, he watched as his ward flushed and looked away.
“Lucy?”
“It sounds wonderful, sir,” Lucy said though she didn’t sound like she believed her own statement.
Louisa looked across the distance and evidently had the same thoughts. “Lucy, it will be fun,” Louisa said. “There will be lots of pretty dresses…” her voice trailed off and she turned her face to her husband’s. “Papa, will we… may we… I mean, I don’t mind, but since this is Lucy’s first real ball, perhaps she could—” she attempted but Edward interrupted her.
“I believe both my girls deserve to have new dresses fortheirfirst ball,” he said, gently correcting her. “I’ve already arranged for a seamstress to come to discuss making new dresses for both of you.”
“Oh, thank you, Papa,” Louisa said practically bouncing with glee. “See, Lucy, we will have new dresses! There will be music and dancing and food,” Louisa said, and then giggled. “I bet there will be lots and lots of men there who might want to meet you!”
Edward watched as Lucy looked at her sister as if she were speaking a foreign language. About to ask her for the truth in what was keeping the joy of a party from her face, he realized he wasn’t the only one to sense her discomfort. Lucas went to sit beside her on the settee. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t seem to even realize he’d done so until he spoke.
“Lucille,” Lucas said softly, “tell us what is frightening you about this invitation.”
Lucy turned to him, her eyes wide, hesitating a moment before giving a shake of her head. Edward saw the indecision about what she should confess or perhaps choose to attempt to keep hidden from both him and Lucas in the crinkling of her nose and the biting of her lip. Evidently Lucas read her just as well as he stood and moved to the fireplace to scoop Cleo from the fancy basket he’d gifted to Lucy a few days earlier. Returning to the settee, he gently set the sleepy feline on Lucy’s lap before settling down beside her again. Edward noted that without speaking a single word, his friend had comforted her, her posture relaxing, her face softening as she began to stroke the small ball of fluff.
It was a far more satisfactory response than the one she’d given by screaming profanity before running out of the house when learning the secret behind the walls of Wintercrest Manor. Satisfactory, but definitely not pleasing as it did nothing to clear the confusion that had descended upon her the moment he’d made the announcement about the ball.
“Little one,” Edward said softly, “I thought you’d be excited. This will be your first party of the season. There is no reason to be nervous. Do you remember the night of your celebratory dinner upon your graduation? You were introduced to Lord and Lady Eddinberg? Did they frighten you in any way?”
She looked a bit surprised at the question but shook her head. “No, sir. They were… were nice.”
Edward smiled. “Yes, they are and they are also the couple hosting this ball. You weren’t uncomfortable that night, so tell me why you seem so frightened now.”
Lucy’s gaze flitted from his to Louisa’s, to the man sitting beside her before dropping to her pet on her lap before she answered softly, “I-I don’t want to be the source of amusement, sir.”
Edward wasn’t the only one who seemed taken aback by that statement. Lucas shot him a glance and then focused on Lucy.
“What on earth do you mean by that?”
She turned to face him, the question seeming to allow her to shake off the shroud of despondency Edward’s question caused to descend on her.
“Don’t mock me, sir,” she said, “You know exactly what I mean.”
Lucas shook his head. “I assure you that I don’t, Lucille. It might come as a surprise to you, but none of us are mind readers.”
Louisa proved otherwise as she said, “You think Papa meant that the seamstress will be making you… us, the same sort of dresses we wear now, don’t you?”
Lucy nodded. “I-I don’t want to go to any party dressed like a little girl. I know I said that clothes don’t matter… but…”
“A ball is different, is that what you’re trying to say, Lucy?” Lucas asked gently.
At her nod and her blush, Edward smiled to reassure his ward. “Lucille, you will have your choice of gown.” He saw her look of surprise and continued, “Within reason of course. I want my girls to feel beautiful, though I don’t believe either of you need fancy dresses for that. I’m aware that you are courting, Lucille,” he said, and saw her dart a glance to Lucas and her flush deepen to that of a rose in full bloom. “It might surprise you, little one, that even a stodgy man such as myself understands that you deserve to have a wonderful, magical night before you become an old married woman like my little lady here.”
Louisa reached up to pat Edward’s cheek. “Papa, you are far from boring, and I’m not old!”
Edward laughed and gave her forehead a quick kiss. “Of course you aren’t, little one. I simply meant that your sister has yet to join in the bliss of matrimony.”
With a smile, Louisa turned to her twin. “We shall make sure that the seamstress fashions you the most beautiful gown in the world, isn’t that right, Papa?”
“It is,” Edward agreed, pleased to see the sadness dissipate on Lucy’s face and the smile that took its place.
“Thank you, sir,” Lucy said. “The ball sounds like a lovely idea.”
Edward wasn’t surprised in the least to find his friend pushing his advantage of being a participant in the exchange.
“I’d be honored to escort you, Lucille,” he said.
