Loving Lucy Read Free

for. Her blue eyes sparkled with youth and life; her dark hair gleamed with brushing. She took Lucy’s hand. “Dear child.”
    “Good morning Mama,” said her beloved child, not at all put out by her Mama’s look of doting fondness. Her mother’s moods were volatile, and it didn’t do to enter them wholeheartedly, but she was always aware of Lady Royston’s care and devotion to her. “Mama, I think we may have a visitor this morning.”
    “Oh? Who? If you in any way encouraged your cousin last night, I will tell you now that the house is still barred to him.”
    Lucy looked shocked. “No indeed, Mama, how can you think such a thing? Not at all. It is Sir Geoffrey who wishes to call.”
    “Sir Geoffrey?” echoed her ladyship, frozen for a bare moment by the thought.
    Lucy bounced gently on the bed, restraining her natural enthusiasm. ”Yes, Mama, he said most particularly he wished to speak to me.”
    Lady Royston sat up. “Oh.” She clutched a wisp of lace she frivolously called her handkerchief to her ample bosom. “I never thought he would be so precipitate.”
    “Mama, what should I do?”
    “Why are you asking me, dear child?”
    Lucy looked at her mother in surprise. “Why, Mama, because you are my Mama. Who else should I ask, pray?” Lucy had always come to her mother for advice, trusting her to give her best counsel.
    Her ladyship eyed her daughter with calculation. “You like him?”
    “Oh he is very handsome, Mama. But what’s that to the point? You know I don’t need you to tell me that.”
    “Yes, my love, of course I know.” Lady Royston pressed the hand still lying in hers. Decisively she released it. “I must get up. Where is Field?” she raised her voice to a tone her bosom friends would have been surprised to hear in her. “Field.”
    Immediately a tall, gaunt female entered the room from the dressing room, two or three gowns over her arm. Lady Royston threw back the bedcovers, dislodging several newspapers and invitations, which fell disregarded on to the floor. “I’m getting up now. My daughter has a particular visitor this morning.” She glanced at the gowns her maid bore. “The puce.” Field put the other garments carefully over a brocaded chair and shook out the gown. Lady Royston found her wrapper and put it on, going to sit at her overloaded dressing table. “Now,” she said. “How did he seem last night?”
    Lucy picked up a slice of bread and butter from the breakfast tray and regarded it thoughtfully. “Most gentlemanly.” She knew what her mother wanted to hear. But it was not the gentlemanly aspect of Sir Geoffrey that she was thinking about.
      “No, no, I know that.” her Mama exclaimed impatiently. “I meant did he seem passionate, fervent, or cool, holding off?”
    Field made herself busy brushing her mistress’ hair out from its night-time braids. Lucy met her mother’s steely gaze in the mirror. Lady Royston’s grey eyes were sharp and alert with calculation, her generous figure upright. “No,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I knew he was interested in you, but I thought it was only a flirtation on his part. I was waiting to see if it was real, or just a fleeting attraction.”
    Lucy took a bite of the bread and butter. “He has always seemed most sincere.” She wasn’t in the least put out by her mother’s straightforward approach; she had seen the transformation from fashionable matron to cool, decisive businesswoman too often for it to be remarkable to her any more. Her mother might be reticent in public, but despite her many prejudices and snobberies she was far from it in private. “Yes,” Lady Royston said now. “A sincere approach. Well his request isn’t a casual one, I’m sure of that now. Do you think he will come up to scratch?”
    “I think so, and if he doesn’t today I think it very likely soon. He seems to want me to be aware of his partiality.” She finished her bread and butter and picked up a napkin to