Lady Lucy's Lover Read Free Page B

Despite the iniquitous flour tax, many still wore their hair powdered and wore glittering jewels pinned indiscriminately about their person. Then there were the eccentrics like Henry Cope, filled with a morbid longing to attract attention. He wore only green suits and cravats and it was said he bought green furniture, had his rooms painted green, and excited the ridicule of the lampoonists;
    Green garters, green hose, and deny
it who can,
    The brains, too, are green, of this
green little man!
    Then there was Lord Dudley and Ward, propping up a pillar and talking to himself at great length, causing the wits to say, “It is only Dudley talking to Ward as usual.”
    And then there was…
    But before Lucy could examine the sudden breathless shock a single glimpse of a tall dark-haired man at the entrance to the card room had given her, a partner was bending over her hand and requesting her to join him in the country dance.
    Lucy was popular, and only her very obvious love for her husband stopped many of the gentlemen from pursuing her. She was a great favorite as a dance partner because she danced beautifully and was guaranteed to say any number of charming and not too frighteningly intelligent things.
    From time to time, she twisted her head, looking for that tall, dark man whose very presence had startled her in such a strange way, but she could see no sign of him in the ballroom and assumed that he must be in the card room.
    She had just finished performing a lively reel with an ebullient young Hussar when she saw her husband. No longer did her heart beat faster with joy. Instead, all she felt was an apprehensive ache somewhere in the region of that organ.
    His handsome high-nosed face was marred with patches of red and looked slightly swollen. His normally pale blue eyes were crisscrossed with red veins, and instead of smelling of new brandy, he smelled abominably of old spirits and snuff.
    But all his famous charm was to the fore and he turned the full blast of it on his young wife.
    â€œLucy,” he murmured, kissing her hand. “What a wretch you must think me, and what a forgiving little wife you are. We’ll spend the whole day together tomorrow and I warrant I shall bring the stars back to your eyes. I know you’ve been cursing me for being a poor sort of husband, but I’ll make it up to you. You do forgive me, sweeting, do you not?”
    Lucy looked up into his anxious eyes and her heart melted.
    â€œOf course I forgive you,” she whispered. “Do you wish to dance?”
    â€œNo, my love. Food is what I need. Let us go and sample some refreshments.”
    He tucked her hand in his arm and led her to the refreshment room. The long windows were open to the garden and a cool breeze made a refreshing change from the heat of the ballroom.
    He fetched her food and drink, hovering over her anxiously until she was seated and served, in such a humble, apologetic, almost schoolboyish way that Lucy’s heart went out to him.
    â€œWhat have you planned for us to do tomorrow, Guy?” she asked gaily.
    â€œOh, tol rol, just drive somewhere, you know, and be by ourselves for a little.”
    â€œI would like that of all things,” said Lucy earnestly. “I had… had begun to think you had ceased to care for me.”
    â€œFustian. That beanpole friend of yours has been putting nasty ideas in your pretty head.”
    â€œAnn? Oh, no. It’s just that… well, I may as well be open with you, Guy. There are terrible rumors that you are spending your time with Harriet Comfort.”
    The red patches on the Marquess’s face deepened to an angry color. “Harriet Comfort is the fashion,” he said in a calm voice, belied by the angry glint in his eyes. “One calls on her to take tea. It’s a ritual thing like going to the opera or stuff like that. Even Brummell goes and no one has ever credited him with any mad passions.”
    â€œOh,” said