The Unexpected Duchess(88)

Cass’s hand dropped to the desktop. “Oh, Lucy. That’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. Is that why you’ve been hiding from me? How could I ever be happily married if I lost my closest friend as a result?”

The two women leaned over the desk and hugged, tears streaming down both of their faces. “I love you, Cass.”

“I love you, too, Luce.”

They finally let go and wiped their tears away with their handkerchiefs. Dabbing away the remaining wetness from her eyes, Lucy allowed an enormous smile to cover her face. “You know, I think I may do just what you suggested, tell Derek how I feel.”

Cass’s face turned somber. “Wait, Lucy, there’s one more thing I must tell you first.”

Lucy searched her friend’s face. “What is it?”

“Mama seems convinced that Derek still intends to offer for me. She and Papa have been discussing it. I told her not to hold out hope. I told her that I’d informed the duke I wouldn’t marry him. But she won’t listen.”

Lucy furrowed her brow. “What do you mean she won’t listen?”

“Apparently your aunt Mary wrote to her and told her how pleased she was that the duke had been courting me in Bath.”

Lucy winced. “Oh, no.”

Cass bit her lip. “Yes. And after the duke escorted Mama and me to the theater last night, she’s even more convinced he intends to offer for me. I’m quite worried that she and Papa won’t let it go. They’ve even written to Owen.”

Lucy stood up and paced over to the window to look outside. “What do you think your mother intends to do?”

“I don’t know. But I think I should warn the duke. I don’t want him to be caught off-guard if Papa attempts to speak with him.”

Lucy bit the end of her fingernail and turned back to look at her friend. “Do you think he’ll do that?”

Cass shook her head. “I don’t know. I wrote Derek a letter.” She pulled an envelope from her reticule and laid it onto Lucy’s writing desk. “I intend to have a maid bring it around in the morning. Other than that I’m not certain what else I can do. Besides trying to reason with Mama and Papa again.”

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest but forced a smile to her lips. No sense worrying about something that may not happen. Was there? “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Cass returned her smile. “Yes. Let’s.”

Lucy scooped up the letter. She gave her friend a sly smile. “You know. I could bring the letter around to Derek tonight if you’d like.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT



When Lucy alighted from her cousin’s coach, she raced over the stone walkway and took the stairs to Derek’s London town house two at a time. She rapped upon the door and fidgeted with her hands, waiting for the blasted butler to open it. “Is His Grace in residence?”

“Yes, my lady, but—”

Lucy didn’t wait to be invited. She hurtled herself inside. The minute she’d heard that Cass and Derek hadn’t seen each other, that Cass had told him she couldn’t marry him, and that they were not, in fact, betrothed, Lucy couldn’t get to him fast enough. It was late at night. She’d had to wait for Garrett and Aunt Mary to retire for the evening before she snuck out of the house. She’d bribed the grooms to put the coach to and promise not to mention it to her cousin. She’d arrived at the duke’s residence far past the proper time for callers, but she couldn’t have cared any less.

“Where is he?” The butler had better not give her any trouble. In her present state of mind, she could fight him with knives and win. Not that she was in possession of a knife, but that was not the point.

Haughty Hughes looked down his nose at her. “His Grace has retired to his bedchamber for the evening. I’ll be happy to take your card and—”

“No!” She made her way determinedly to the staircase. Retired to his bedchamber? That sounded perfect to her. Oh, this was going to be the scandal of the year, but Lucy didn’t give a fig what Hughes thought. She raced up the stairs, frantically opening the doors to several bedchambers to no avail, before coming to the final one at the end of the corridor.

She grabbed the handle with both hands and swung it open to find Derek sitting across the room, in bed, his hair gorgeously ruffled, a dark green silk robe mostly open showing his muscled chest. A book in his hands. He was reading and wore a pair of silver spectacles that made him look even more handsome. He also obviously hadn’t shaved since morning, and the dark stubble on his face made Lucy nearly swoon. She came to a panting halt as soon as she saw him. The door she’d burst through cracked against the opposite wall.