The Unexpected Duchess(38)
“Promise me you’ll stay with me today. When he comes to visit, I’ll need you.”
“Of course I promise, dear.” She didn’t relish the thought of being in the same room with him, but she couldn’t leave Cass to fend for herself with the blackguard.
“And I promise to leave immediately and secure our travel plans to Bath.” Garrett stood and made a sweeping bow in the general direction of all the ladies.
Lucy smiled brightly. “We’re going to Bath!”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“We’re going to Bath,” Lucy announced with another bright smile on her face two hours later. This time she was speaking to the Duke of Claringdon, who sat in a chair across from Cass in the Monroes’ drawing room.
He appeared to be avoiding all eye contact with Lucy, which only served to make her more relentlessly cheerful. Without bothering to look at her, he said, “Bath, eh?” He sat back in his chair and crossed his booted feet at the ankles.
“Yes, Bath.” Lucy punctuated it this time with a resolute nod of her head. She’d assumed she’d find it a bit difficult to look at him, too, after the kiss they’d shared. But she was actually enjoying delivering this particular bit of news. And the more he refused to give her the satisfaction of looking at her, the farther she leaned forward in her seat and glared at him.
“Just decided to take a trip?” he pressed, tugging on his snowy white cuff as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Lucy braced both hands on her knees and eyed him. She’d foiled him and he didn’t appear to like it one bit. And of course he couldn’t just allow them to share the news and wish them well; he had to pry for details. She wrinkled her nose. If he had an ounce of chivalry, he’d already realize that part of the reason they were fleeing west was to evade his unwelcome presence. He must suspect that. Ugh. No doubt that was why he was asking.
“Papa thinks the waters will be good for me,” Cass added, offering a delicate teacup to the duke. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned how her Mama had railed against the idea, convinced that any journey that took Cass away from the duke’s company was quite a bad idea indeed. But Cass’s papa had intervened and insisted she go. He knew how upset Cass had been at the news of Julian, and he thought the change of scenery would do her good. Thank goodness for Cass’s papa.
The duke leaned forward to accept the teacup that Cass offered. Lucy watched their interchange with the hint of a smile playing around her lips. The man didn’t drink tea and never would. She’d noticed that about him on the first day he’d visited, but Cass never seemed to pick up on this bit of information pertaining to their esteemed guest. She insisted upon presenting him with the drink as if he’d somehow change his mind (and personality) suddenly. Lucy lifted her own cup to her lips. Why, Cass would do better to offer him a brandy. He’d be more likely to drink it. Lucy hid her smile behind her own teacup.
“I’ve never been to Bath,” the duke replied. He paused to set the unwanted drink on the side table before pushing out his legs again.
Lucy swallowed and tried to avert her eyes. Oh, my, but he did have long legs. Long and fit. And he was wearing dark gray breeches and an emerald-green waistcoat that brought out the color of his eyes. She glanced away. His eyes? Now she was waxing poetic about his eyes? Oh, this had to stop and immediately. She set down her teacup and folded her hands in her lap. “Never been to Bath? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
His gaze barely flickered over her. “Yes, well, there’s not much occasion to go to a holiday town when one is in the army, is there?” He gave her a tight smile, and Lucy tried to pretend that she wasn’t remembering what it felt like to kiss him. She would not blush. By God. Would not. She was not a blusher!
“Oh, of course not, Your Grace,” Cass rushed to assure him. “But Bath is an absolutely lovely town. All rolling hillsides and so green and pretty. And the Assembly Rooms and Pump Room and the Roman ruins. Why, it’s quite breathtaking.” Lucy’s heart wrenched for her friend. Cass was doing so well pretending to be happy and cheerful in the duke’s company. As if she hadn’t spent the entire night sobbing. She looked as fresh as a flower, too. If Lucy had cried all night, she’d look like a puffed-up pigeon.
The door to the drawing room cracked open just then and Cass’s mother came bustling inside. “Oh, forgive me, Your Grace, for being late for your visit but I only just learned you were here.” She gave Lucy a narrowed-eyed glare that caused Lucy to wonder if the matron had somehow discovered that she’d bribed the footman to keep the news from Lady Moreland as long as possible. That blasted Shakespierre must have cracked.