Company Of Rogues: A Shocking Delight Part 28

Potter didn't like that, but he said, "It's what lies behind it, my lord, and what grows from it. Things that could prove dangerous to my daughter's comfort and happiness."

In other words, he knew, or at least guessed, that David was Captain Drake's son, and probably deeply involved with the perilous Freetrade. How the devil . . . ?

After a calculated pause, Potter rose. "I wish you well, my lord, but not with Lucy."

David rose, challenging him. "What if she wishes to marry me?"

"She'll get over it."

"May I suggest, sir, that you underestimate your daughter?"

"No you may not. I know and appreciate all her virtues."

David was suddenly aware of abandoning Lucy to a world full of people who didn't see the truth of her. "Yet you call her pet."

"What?" Potter was baffled. "Perhaps you are the Mad Earl's son after all."

"Think on what I've said, Potter. Talk to her. Listen to her. Love her."

"d.a.m.n you, sir! I love my daughter dearly, which is why I will protect her, even from her own folly, in all ways necessary. She is not for a d.a.m.ned smuggler."

David wanted to declare then and there that he'd have her. That Potter could go to h.e.l.l. But the man was saying only what he'd told himself.

"There's no need for this heat, Potter. I leave Town today and don't expect to return soon. Your daughter is safe from me."

Potter studied him with narrowed eyes, but then nodded. "I'm glad to hear it, my lord. Good day."

When the man had left, David stood in thought, but nothing changed, nothing improved. Without him to distract her, Lucy would settle on some other man.

Northcliff. She'd shown some partiality there. He seemed a little dull for her, but he'd be a safe and doting husband.

Or Sir Harry Winter. He was a thoroughly good man, and not a fortune hunter. His estate lay in Ess.e.x, so within easy reach of her beloved City. Perhaps she would even be able to enjoy involvement in trade from there.

Even that fool Outram would be better.

He could easily have bloodied Potter's nose, but d.a.m.n it all, he was right. In addition, his implied threat couldn't be ignored.

Susan came in. "Was Lucy's father really here?"

"In the flesh. He warned me off."

"What? How dare he?"

"Don't fly into alt again. He was in the right. Also, he knows."

"What?"

"That I'm Captain Drake."

"How?"

"I should have expected it. A man doesn't succeed like that without excellent intelligence on anything that might concern him. Lucy certainly concerns him, even though he's dense about her."

"But no one back home would let anything slip to a stranger."

"It needn't have been that way. He's a merchant, and possibly not above a bit of illegal trade, especially in his early days. A word to the right people and he'd know."

"Is he dangerous?" she asked.

He soothed her clasped hands. "There's no profit to him in exposing me and he has no need to serve me ill."

"As long as you leave his daughter alone."

"Exactly."

"The Rogues-"

"No! I'll not have the Rogues poking into my affairs, and Potter's right. Lucy shouldn't be married to a smuggler. She'll find someone better."

"We discussed this earlier."

"And almost came to blows. Don't fight the winds, Susan. I'm going home."

"What of marrying for money?"

"I'll have to do without for a while. I'll return to harness in due course."

She touched his cheek. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"No. Lay the blame on mad, obsessive love. And may we all be free of it."

Chapter 21.

Happy antic.i.p.ation hadn't led to a restful night and Lucy had again woken too late to go to the park. That shouldn't matter, because he would come here to propose to her properly. Unless he'd gone to the City to speak to her father.

Oh, no. She should have warned him that her father had concerns. He might need some persuasion.

She wrote a note. She found she couldn't address the matter of their betrothal directly when he hadn't quite proposed, so she simply asked him to call. When she received no response, she was tempted to rush round to speak to him, but if he hadn't received her note yet, he must be out.

In any case, it would be hard to escape the fuss and flutter in Lanchester Street. She didn't remember her own debut ball causing a tenth of this bother. Lucy did her best to help, but when she made another silly mistake because of daydreams she apologized with the excuse of a headache.

"Then go and lie down," her aunt said testily.

Lucy escaped to her room, telling herself to calm down. If David had gone to her father, it wouldn't be disastrous. Her father couldn't forbid the marriage, and he'd come around. She opened her journal, but was stuck on hearts and flowers again.

In the end tiredness did overcome her, so she had a nap, and was reasonably coherent when it was time to prepare for the ball. Where he would be.

She wanted to dazzle him, and she had two evening gowns that she'd not yet worn, but this was Clara's night, so she chose the sprigged gauze again. For jewels, she wore a delicate parure of colored stones and seed pearls.

She thought Clara's lace gown a little too fussy, but otherwise, her cousin looked charming. The cream color suited her more than pure white would have. Her curls were tamed and the pearls looked perfect there. She wore a neat string of real ones around her neck.

At this point Clara seemed more composed than Lucy, or perhaps it was only that she bubbled all the time. Lucy was suddenly overwhelmed by a fondness for her cousin, who was delightfully uncomplicated and said what she meant.

She found a silver and ivory brooch in her box and offered it. "A gift for your ball."

"Lucinda, how kind! It will go well on my bodice."

"I think so." Lucy pinned it there. "And perhaps you could call me Lucy. It's what my father calls me, and I'd like that."

"Of course. Lucinda is more elegant, but Lucy suits you."

"Are you saying I'm not elegant?" Lucy teased.

Clara giggled. "Of course not. Though you're not quite. But you're beautiful. Have you chosen Wyvern, then?"

Lucy started, but then realized it was simply Clara's mind fluttering about.

"Perhaps," Lucy said, feeling herself blush. She wanted to babble all about him, but she retained enough sanity not to do so to one of the greatest chatterers in Town.

"So you'll be a countess! How exciting. Of course it will mean having to live in Devon."

"Not a fate worse than death."

Clara giggled. "And he shows no sign of madness yet."

"For heaven's sake, why should he?"

"His father was mad."

Lucy had completely forgotten that.

She remembered him saying something about it. That the earls of Wyvern had always been mad. Or had he said odd?

"Odd," she said out loud. "Or eccentric." Clara looked dubious, so Lucy added, "He shows no sign of insanity."

"True." Clara was surveying herself one last time in the mirror. "But then, neither did the king when he was Wyvern's age. Grandmother Gres.h.i.+ngham remembered him as a young man with some admiration. Come, we should go down."

Lucy grabbed her fan and reticule and followed, glad to escape Clara's babble.

Madness, indeed.

For once Lord Caldross accompanied them, and he seemed truly fond and proud of Clara. The hired rooms were well decorated with flowers and lit with an abundance of candles. The small orchestra was already playing, waiting for the guests to arrive.

The refreshments were abundant and the arrangements for supper seemed excellent. The ladies' and gentlemen's rooms were suitable and servants already waited there. Other servants staffed a cloakroom where people could leave outer clothing and, if necessary, change their shoes. It was a fine, dry night, however, so most would come here in their dancing slippers unless they chose to walk.

Guests began to arrive, friends and family coming early to give the rooms a populated look, then others in numbers that should satisfy Aunt Mary.

Lucy had no place in the reception line so she chatted to any number of people, aware again of having made acquaintances in the ton. She felt accepted. If there were looks, she suspected they were because she was firmly linked to the notorious catch of the season, not because she was a scandal and a Cit.

Where was he?

Maria arrived, with her husband and niece. Lucy saw Lord and Lady Charrington and the b.a.l.l.s. The Duke of St. Raven and his wife were announced. Aunt Mary had been thrilled by their acceptance, and that of the Ardens.

Lucy had wondered if it was something to do with the Company of Rogues, but that would mean that they were here for David, the friend of the Rogues. So where was he?

The Amleighs were announced. David's sister and her husband-but where was her brother? Lucy looked around, wondering if she'd missed his entrance, and then Lady Amleigh was coming toward her.

"I'm pleased to see you in good spirits, Miss Potter."

"Why shouldn't I be, Lady Amleigh?"

Lady Amleigh blinked. "I did think . . . but no matter. This event promises to be a success."

With foreboding, Lucy asked, "What's happened? Where's Lord Wyvern?"

"Oh, dear. I sent a note. In response to yours."

"Mine? He didn't read it?" Lady Amleigh's message had probably been mislaid in all the fuss. "What's happened to him?"

"Calm, please, my dear. I'm sorry. Nothing bad. My brother had already left. He was called urgently back to Devon."

"Back to Devon?" Lucy knew she sounded as if she'd been told he'd gone to the moon, but she felt that way.

"Sadly, yes. Some estate matter requiring his attention."

Something in Lady Amleigh's eyes put Lucy on the defensive. She would not show how devastated she felt. "How tiresome for him. Will he return soon?"

"It's hard to tell. It is a very serious matter."

"The season will be much diminished," Lucy said, and escaped.

She kept a smile on her face, but it was painfully hard when David wasn't here and wouldn't be here. When he'd gone far, far away.

Why?

To escape her? She hated the thought, but there it was anyway. From the first he'd said he didn't intend to marry her. Last night he'd been carried away, but had those promising words been spoken from a sense of obligation?

She was alone again, even bereft of her suitors. Her plan had worked too well, and here she was, isolated.