Chapter TWELVE
Lucy had been relegated to the back of the carriage like an unwanted maiden aunt chaperoning on May Day. She jostled along as the conveyance bounced through Hyde Park, giving the footman, who was clinging to the back of the thing, a commiserating smile every once in a while. Cass had given her strict orders. “Please don’t say anything too, too rude. I shall attempt to make my intentions clear myself this time.” Cass had given a firm nod.
Lucy had reassured her friend. “I’ll try, truly. I’ll do my best. And I have complete confidence in your ability to handle the duke.”
“It may be best if you remain silent.” Cass bit her lip. “If he invites me to do anything else with him, I’ll be firm.”
Lucy nodded. “Understood.”
Cass gave her friend a bright smile and a tight hug. “Oh, Luce. What would I do without you?”
“You’d probably end up married to a duke.”
They’d both laughed, but their laughter had been cut short by the arrival of the duke himself. He’d entered the drawing room, as handsome as usual, and managed to keep a smile on his face even when Cass announced, “I would feel ever so much better if Lucy joined us.”
For her part, Lucy managed to keep a perfectly innocent look on her face. The duke accepted the pronouncement with as much grace as His Grace could muster. “As you wish.”
Lucy and the duke exchanged fake smiles before Lucy took her place in the second seat of the phaeton. The groom jumped up into his position and they were off before Lucy had a chance to finish tying the wide bow of her bonnet beneath her chin.
As the conveyance bumped along the dirt road toward the park, the duke and Cass talked about the weather, the Season, Society, and the latest amusements at Vauxhall Gardens. Lucy kept her mouth tightly clamped the entire time, not particularly interested in the conversation, until the talk turned to the war.
“Did you lose many friends in battle?” Cass tentatively asked the duke as the coach made its way through the impressive iron gates of Hyde Park. Lucy turned her head to listen, precariously perched on the seat behind them.
He replied with one nod. “I did. Too many.”
“The man I … have feelings for. He was there,” Cass admitted.
Lucy’s heart wrenched for Cass.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the duke continued. “Did he make it home safely?”
Cass shook her head. “Not yet. I haven’t heard from him. I expect to any day now.”
“War is a hideous business.” The duke’s voice was solemn.
Lucy wrinkled her brow. She considered his answer for a moment. Of course she’d always thought war was hideous—but a seasoned soldier, a lieutenant general, thinking the same thing? She assumed they relished the battles. Looked forward to them even. Didn’t it provide them with their chance at honor, valor, victory?
“It’s a necessary evil to defend the country,” he added. “But I do not relish war.”
Lucy tilted her head to the side. Surprising that he would say such a thing.
Cass raised her voice as loud as Lucy had ever heard it. “I hate war. It’s kept my friend away for so many years.”
The duke’s voice was low. “It’s kept many of us away for many years, I’m afraid, Lady Cassandra. I’m glad it’s over.”
Cass nodded.
“Tell me, why don’t you think your friend will propose to you when he returns?” the duke asked.
Cass hung her head. “He won’t. He … he can’t.”
“Is he married?”
“Something like that.”
“Unrequited love is painful,” he said.
Lucy’s head snapped up. Unrequited love? The duke was discussing unrequited love? Why, she hadn’t known he was capable of such tender emotions.
“What do you know about unrequited love?” The words flew from her throat before she had a chance to stop them.
“Lucy!” Cass’s voice held a note of rebuke.
The duke turned his head toward her. “No. It’s all right, Lady Cassandra. Frankly, I’ve been surprised Lady Lucy here has remained silent as long as she has.”
Lucy glared at him. “Well?”
“Love, I’ve found, is a messy business. Marriage is another matter entirely,” he said.
“Spoken like a poet,” Lucy retorted.
“Lucy, please,” Cass begged.
The duke arched a brow at Lucy. “Something tells me a poet would be made short shrift in your world, my lady.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes on him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means any man who isn’t willing to dodge your gibes is quickly gone, is he not? I suspect that’s why you’ve taken such a dislike to me. I don’t run away at your slightest barb.”
Lucy squeezed her hands in the folds of her skirts. How did that man manage to get to the heart of things so easily? It was as if he had a window into her personality. And was it true that she disliked him so vehemently because he refused to leave? She bit her tongue. No use giving him more ammunition to lob back at her. Why, oh why, did he make her so insane? “Perhaps you should.”
“You seem to know a lot about affairs of the heart, my lady,” he said. “What about the war? Do you know anyone who won’t be coming back?”
Lucy jerked back as if he’d struck her. He was questioning whether she’d been hurt in life. Seen painful things. Lost someone she loved. “I’ve lost someone. Someone quite dear to me.”
A combination of surprise and regret passed over his face. “A man?”
Lucy looked away. “Yes.”
The rest of the journey continued in silence. When the phaeton finally rolled to a stop in front of Cass’s parents’ town house, the duke alighted and helped Cass down. He left the footman to help Lucy.
“Will I see you tomorrow evening at the Havertys’ dinner party, Lady Cassandra?” he asked.
Cass nodded. “Yes, I’ll be there, but—”
This was the moment. Cass would tell him she didn’t want to see him again. And if that happened and he finally took no for an answer, then—
The duke’s arrogance and assuming manner had left Lucy wanting more, another chance to put him in his place. She brushed past him, pulling Cass into the house with her. “We’ll see you there, Your Grace.”
“I look forward to it,” he replied.
“I’ll wager you do.”
“You’re not about to scare me off with your sharp tongue, my lady,” he said.
“We’ll see about that, Your Grace,” Lucy replied.
She had nearly shut the door behind them when the duke’s strong, sure voice rang out behind them. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”
Lucy didn’t look back. “Oh, Your Grace, if I were challenging you, you’d know it.”
“Very well,” he said. “While we’re on the subject of wagers and sharp tongues, I’d like to challenge you to one, Lady Lucy.”
She froze, standing as still as a statue. Then she slowly turned to face him, her eyes narrowed on his features.
She tilted her head to the side. “To what? A wager?”
“Yes,” he replied with a smile on his face.
“A wager?” Cass gulped.
“What sort of wager?” Lucy asked. She had to admit, she was intrigued. Quite intrigued, actually.
“I challenge you to a battle of words. Tomorrow night, at the Havertys’ party.”
“A word challenge?” she scoffed. “You challenge me?”
Cass pointed a finger in the air. “Um, Your Grace, I’m not certain if you understand exactly…”
The duke waved away the warning. “Oh, I understand, perfectly. Lady Lucy here is known for her way with words. Correct?”
Cass nodded.
He grinned. “And I intend to show her up.”
Lucy picked up her skirts and crossed the threshold into the house. She didn’t let him see the small smile that had popped to her lips. It had been an age since anyone had challenged her. “You’d best get plenty of sleep tonight, Your Grace. You’ll need it.”