Abandon Read Free Page A

comfort, just his housekeeper to tend and cook rustic meals. He was an ordinary man there, an artist and mad Englishman who lived a quiet life.
    Forced back to England by the death of his father his tranquility was gone. There was business to take care of, the affairs of his estate, and he needed to look after his mother. Responsibility did not bother him; he knew that and accepted the necessity for it. But Lucy’s appearance at the ball last night had knocked him off his pins. He hadn't got a wink of sleep and had consumed much too much of the brandy in his library. He kept going over and over in his head the conversation he had overheard on the terrace between Lucilla and Carlisle. Then he had ruined a perfectly good canvas, unable to concentrate on the scene he wanted, seeing only Lucy in his mind’s eye, lush and pale in the candlelight.
    Why wasn’t she married? Bloody hell, what was the matter with Wakefield? Shouldn’t he have found her a husband by now? He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, regardless of the people passing by him, and closed his eyes as he remembered her appearance at the ball. She was still as beautiful as ever. He groaned and shook his head, then realized where he was and started to walk again, ignoring the stares and whispers behind hands.
    A bell chimed as a millinery shop door opened to let two women exit the store. Too late Aubrey recognized Lady Harriet, followed by Lady Lucilla and a maid carrying wrapped parcels.
    “Lord Lovell,” Harriet exclaimed. “It is so nice to meet you again and so soon. I do hope that you enjoyed yourself last evening.”
    Aubrey nodded his head, not daring to risk a glance at Lucilla. “It was quite enjoyable, Lady Harriet. I trust that you and Aversley also had a pleasurable evening. The ballroom was sparkling, it was such a crush.” Aubrey realized that he was blathering on and took a deep breath, forcing himself to stop. He turned to her companion.
    Lucilla was not even looking at him, but was staring fixedly at something further down the street. She gave nothing away, no knowledge that she even knew him, but stood still as a statue. She was lovely in a yellow walking dress, a bonnet tipped with a long green feather trailing off the back, set just so on her thick chestnut hair. Only the small hands fisted within her gloves exposed her tension.
    “I trust you have met Lady Lucilla Blount,” Harriet was introducing them. “Lucilla, Viscount Lovell is a dear friend of Aversley and will stand for him at our wedding.”
    A flash of memory went through Aubrey’s mind, long pale limbs and chestnut hair tumbling over rounded pink tipped breasts. Oh, yes, he knew her. Sweat was dripping down his back and he could feel the flush on the back of his neck.
    “It has been quite a long time, but..,” he got no further. Lucy looked at him square in the eyes, lifted her arm and slapped him hard across the face. Then she pushed past him and strode down the street.
    Lady Harriet’s eyes were wide and her face flushed. “Oh dear,” she exclaimed. “I don’t, I mean, I’m not sure…” her voice trailed off helplessly.
    Aubrey straightened his shoulders and forced a smile. “I’m sure that she mistook me for someone else. There is a misunderstanding of some sort, I'm sure.” The maid dropped a package, distracting Lady Harriet, and Aubrey bent to aid her and recover himself at the same time.
    He handed her the parcel, something soft wrapped in brown paper, and bowed. “I’m sure that you have more errands, so I’ll let you be on your way.” He knew he sounded stilted, but he needed to get away himself. The altercation had attracted the attention of some of the other shoppers and he could sense curious looks.
    “Of course, I must catch up with Lady Lucilla.” The incident had flustered poor Harriet. “I hope to meet you again soon. I’m sure that our paths will cross.” She curtsied and hurried off down the street, followed by her maid. Aubrey