A wide grin spread across Jane’s face. “You know, that plan is just mad enough that it may work. It’ll be just like Horner in The Country Wife. Only less risqué.” Jane was forever mentioning her favorite plays.
Cass shook her head, a worried look flashing across her pretty face. “No. No. It won’t work at all. He’s sure to hear you, Lucy.”
“We’ll just make certain he’s several paces away,” Lucy replied. “You’ll tell him not to come any closer. For propriety’s sake, of course. It’s perfect.”
Cass’s wide blue eyes turned to Jane. “Janie, what do you think?”
Her forgotten book shoved back into her reticule, Jane crossed her arms over her chest. “I think I shall be out in the garden hiding behind the hedgerow with Lucy so I don’t miss a moment of this.”
Cass wrung her hands. “But what if it doesn’t work?”
Jane patted her friend’s shoulder. “What does Lucy always say? Be bold? At this point, you’ve nothing to lose. And if anyone can manage this feat, it’s our Lady Lucy here.”
Cass gulped. She eyed both her friends warily and took a moment to speak. “Very well. If you’re certain, I suppose I’ll try it.”
Lucy smiled an enormous smile and clasped her hands together. “Excellent. Leave everything to me. It’ll be just like one of the romp plays we love so much. I’ll set the arrogant duke back on his heels. We have an appointment in the hedgerow.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning Lucy spent an inordinate amount of time in the breakfast room of her cousin’s town house mentally compiling a list of crushing things to say to the Duke of Claringdon when they next met. Why, the man was a complete boor. How dare he call her Miss Upton? How dare he question Cass’s wishes? How dare he tell her he didn’t give a toss what she thought? The Crown may have bestowed a title upon him, but it obviously could not bestow the good breeding and manners that should come along with it.
She’d already cataloged an entire plethora of things to say to bring the duke to his knees when a footman arrived to announce that her friends were waiting in the drawing room to see her.
By choice, Lucy lived with her aunt and her cousin Garrett. Garrett had been her closest childhood friend. Lucy’s own parents would never forgive her for not being a boy. They’d essentially disowned her. Well, completely ignored her for the most part. And while her parents preferred to remain in the country, Lucy adored Garrett’s mother, Aunt Mary, who acted as her chaperone while she was in town.
Lucy hastily made her way to the drawing room. If Jane and Cass were there, surely Garrett had made his way to the drawing room as well. Garrett seemed to appear wherever Cass was lately. Lucy suspected he had an infatuation with her beautiful blond friend.
Lucy pushed open the double doors to the drawing room and marched inside.
“Ah, Your Grace, lovely of you to join us,” Garrett said in his usual sarcastic tone. Lucy hid her smile. Yes. Garrett was here. The honorific he’d called her by was a jest between the two of them. He’d begun calling her that soon after her come-out, after all the eligible suitors had fallen away. Lucy had heard one of them say that he wasn’t interested because of her wasp’s tongue and high airs.
“You’d think she was a duchess the way she carries herself,” Lord Widmere had said. It had stung Lucy, but only that first time. She refused to allow anyone to see her hurt and her shame. She’d spent her life trying to be the son her parents didn’t have, shunning all things ladylike and girlish. Was it her fault she spoke her mind and refused to suffer fools? Her penchant for unvarnished honesty had earned her the reputation of having a shrew’s tongue. But if it helped in situations like Cass’s debacle with the overbearing Duke of Claringdon last night, she’d take her so-called waspish tongue over being a demure little miss any day. And as for her supposed duchesslike airs, well, those had been an unfortunate by-product of her refusal to show anyone that their rejection hurt. She pushed up her chin, squared her shoulders, and told herself she didn’t need the approval of the ton. What did it matter to her what they thought?
So she’d shared Lord Widmere’s words with Garrett, and they’d made a jest of them. A jest that nettled her still a bit, but she absolutely adored her cousin, even if her father detested him. Perhaps because her father detested him. Father couldn’t stand Garrett for the simple reason that Garrett would inherit his title and estates one day and he was not Father’s very own son. Ah, what a loving family.