“He’s really quite a nice man,” Lucy added. Oh, what was the use? Her friends knew her too well. The fact was that she and Lord Berkeley had exchanged barely more than a few words both times he’d come to call. She wasn’t certain if it was because she had nothing to say or because he had nothing to say. But they’d both quietly sipped their tea and smiled at each other off and on and that was all there was to it. Nice was probably too effusive a word. Not to mention, the entire time Lord Berkeley had been sitting in the drawing room, Lucy had been having wayward thoughts about Derek. And that had not been helpful at all.
“There’s that word again,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Nice.”
Cass took a deep breath. “Perhaps you should see him again. Find out if you get along better next time. That reminds me. You never told me, Lucy, what did the duke say when you told him I was ill?”
Lucy jumped. She pricked her finger with the needle. “Ouch.” She popped the appendage into her mouth to suck on it briefly before saying, “What? I told you.”
Cass shook her head weakly. “You said he gave me his well wishes, but you never said if you thought he believed you about my illness.”
Lucy sat up straight, dropping the detested embroidery into her lap. “I think he believed me.”
Jane gave her a funny look. Lucy still hadn’t had a chance to speak with Jane, and she desperately wanted to. She’d merely whispered to her earlier as they’d entered Cass’s room that she wanted to have a private word at some point. Jane had nodded.
Cass looked hopeful. “Do you really think he did believe you?”
Lucy nodded. It was all she could do with Jane’s assessing gaze on her.
“Did you fight with him again, Lucy?” Cass sighed.
Lucy wanted to sink through the floor. She couldn’t look at Cass. She kept her eyes pinned to the embroidery circle. “No. I. We were quite … civil today.” Heavens, lightning would strike her. She was a harlot. A lying harlot.
“I’m glad to hear that, Lucy,” Cass continued. “Because I was hoping that you would keep him company while I’m ill.”
Lucy’s head snapped up. Her eyes went wide. “Keep him company? What?”
Jane almost hid her smile behind the edge of Wollstonecraft.
Lucy pointed at Jane. “Why can’t Jane do it?”
Jane pulled the book away from her lips. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who has history with the man. We can’t confuse him by tossing a third lady into the equation.”
Cass leaned back against her pillow and sneezed into her handkerchief. “Lucy, you know he’s used to you.”
Lucy gulped. You could say that.
“He’s been around you as much as he’s been around me,” Cass continued.
Uh, he’s been a bit more around me, to be honest.
“You two may not be friends, per se, but I think he’d appreciate you keeping him apprised of my condition. We’d talked about going on a picnic. Seeing the ruins. Things like that.”
Lucy tapped on the embroidery frame. “And you can do all those things, Cass. Just as soon as you’re feeling better.”
Cass smoothed a hand over her bed-mussed hair. “It’s most unfortunate that I’ve been taken ill. I feel horribly guilty about it.”
Guilty? Lucy swallowed. She knew all about guilty. “What have you to feel guilty for, Cass?”
Cass shook her head. “The way I treated the duke up till now. I’ve been so rude.”
Lucy leaned forward in her chair and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “No, I was the rude one.”
“But only at my request.” Cass sneezed daintily into her handkerchief.
“It doesn’t matter, Cass. I’m certain he’s pleased that you’re willing to speak with him now,” Lucy replied.
“But I’m worried that he’ll become disinterested,” Cass replied. “Find someone else to court if I’m ill for too long.”
“If he finds someone else to court, he doesn’t deserve you,” Jane added. “Remember, Mary Wollstonecraft said, ‘Women are systematically degraded by receiving the trivial attentions which men think it manly to pay to the sex, when, in fact, men are insultingly supporting their own superiority.’”
Lucy nodded. “Absolutely. Jane’s right. Perhaps it’s better if you let him go.”
“I know. I know,” Cass agreed. “But after the way I’ve treated him, I’d feel so much better if you’d agree to keep him company, Lucy. Please? Besides, it can’t hurt Lord Berkeley to believe he has a bit of competition.”