Chapter TWO
Derek Hunt narrowed his eyes on the young woman he’d plucked from the bushes. He could see enough of her in the light from the candles scattered about the gardens. She had bouncy black hair and bright blue eyes—wait, one of her eyes was blue, the other was hazel—and a decidedly unhappy look on her upturned face. Her chest was heaving with what was no doubt indignation, and if looks could cause bodily harm he’d be a heap in the mulch right now.
Lady Lucy Upton.
He’d noticed her earlier in the ballroom. All the men had noticed her. She was stunning. Even with leaves stuck in her hair and a twig hanging from one dark curl. He’d heard a rumor about something unusual in her appearance but he’d not been able to discern it before. Must be the eyes. Regardless of their odd colors, she was a beauty.
He’d questioned Lord Chambers about her.
“Firmly on the shelf,” Chambers had replied. “No suitors.”
“Why’s that?” Derek had asked nonchalantly. “She’s certainly pretty enough.”
Apparently, the lady had a rapier for a tongue. She jabbed with nouns, riposted with verbs. And she delivered adjectives with a particular flourish. By all accounts, she was a master. One who could rip an overzealous beau to shreds in mere seconds. According to Lord Chambers, it didn’t take long for the eligible bachelors of the ton, those who were not otherwise occupied with war, to disentangle themselves from any association with Lady Lucy.
Derek eyed the dark-haired beauty closely. He had recently turned thirty. He had just returned from the war. He’d spent years being shot at and had nearly died half a dozen times on battlefields across the Continent. Now he was looking for peace.
Lady Cassandra had been recommended to him. She was considered quiet and demure. “The perfect choice for a wife,” Swift had said. The perfect choice for a man seeking a peaceful life. An obedient wife.
Lady Lucy Upton was the exact opposite.
“Your Grace,” Lady Cassandra began, obviously fumbling to explain the highly unusual situation. “We were just…”
Derek crossed his arms over his chest and watched the two young women. Obviously Lady Cassandra was mortified. Her lovely face was bright pink, and she looked as if she wanted to flee from this entire debacle. Lady Lucy, on the other hand, looked as if she was merely getting started.
“I think I know what you were doing,” he replied, staring down his nose at the two of them. “If I don’t mistake my guess, Miss Upton here was behind the bushes, offering you guidance in the form of things to say to me.” His eyes were riveted on Lady Lucy, who clearly wanted to slap him. “Am I right, Miss Upton? Do words escape Lady Cassandra?”
The beautiful termagant opened her mouth to speak. She was shaking with antagonism toward him. Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear this.
“Why don’t you choose someone to provoke who is worthy of your skill?” Lady Lucy shot back at him.
He arched a brow. “Like you?”
Her eyes blazed fire at him. “Exactly like me. I may not match you in height, weight, or arrogance, but I assure you that I am not intimidated by you. And while we’re chastising each other, Your Grace, you might be reminded that I am the daughter of an earl and am Lady Lucy, not Miss Upton.”
Derek had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at the reprimand. He’d known perfectly well he was speaking to a lady. But there was nothing the peers of the realm hated more than anyone misquoting their precious titles. He himself had been born the first of three sons of a soldier. A complete nobody who rose to his rank purely on his own military merit. Yes, he was a duke now—rewarded by the Crown for his exceptional decision-making skill in battle, or so they’d told him—and everyone was eager to make his acquaintance. It sickened him. And he refused to play. Though interestingly enough, Lady Cassandra and Lady Lucy didn’t seem to care a bit about his illustrious title at the moment, did they?
Derek watched Lucy Upton. He had spent the last few years barking orders. He was a man used to having those orders carried out immediately, and here was a slip of a young woman who not only refused to snap to attention but also seemed to enjoy antagonizing him. He had to reluctantly admit, it fascinated him.
The solider in him admired her penchant for forthrightness. He also reluctantly admired her for standing up for her friend and being loyal. But Lady Lucy was not about to dissuade him from his goal.
“My apologies, my lady,” he said with a mocking bow.
He didn’t miss her haughty look of disapproval.
“We’re ever so sorry for deceiving you, Your Grace,” Lady Cassandra said, her voice still quavering. She shuffled her slippers through the gravel, looking as if she’d just confessed to the greatest sin imaginable.
“No, we’re not!” Lady Lucy nearly shouted, her arms crossed, her fingertips tapping near her elbows.
Lady Cassandra’s angelic blue eyes went wide. “Lucy!”
Derek held up a hand. “No. No. Lady Cassandra. Please allow Lady Lucy to speak. I’m quite looking forward to her explanation.”
Lady Lucy propped her fists on her hips and took two steps forward. She moved a hand up to her hair and plucked out the errant twig. “We do not owe you an explanation, Your Grace. But the truth is that Lady Cassandra is not interested in your suit. It’s that simple.”
“Is it?” he asked, solidly planting a smirk on his face.
“Yes.”
“And is that your opinion, Lady Lucy, or Lady Cassandra’s opinion?”
He could tell she was grinding her teeth. “Ask her,” Lady Lucy replied.
“I would, my lady, but I’m afraid you would answer for her.” He gave her a false smile.
Lady Cassandra made a noise that sounded as if she were being suffocated. “I suggest we all go back indoors and—”
Lady Lucy continued speaking to Derek as if Lady Cassandra hadn’t even spoken. “How dare you question the actions of a lady?”
Derek stared serenely back at her. “How dare you answer for Lady Cassandra?”
Lady Lucy’s eyes seemed to be changing colors with her mood, the one turning deep sapphire and the other mossy green. “If you were a gentleman, Your Grace, you wouldn’t question Lady Cassandra and her disinterest in your advances.”
His gaze remained on Lady Lucy’s face. “Lady Cassandra, are you currently betrothed to another?”
“N … no.” Lady Cassandra gulped.
“Then there is still hope for me,” he replied, continuing to watch Lady Lucy.
She gave him a withering glare. “You’re not listening, Your Grace,” she managed through clenched teeth.
“On the contrary. I believe I’ve understood you perfectly. But I’ve fought many a losing battle in my day, fought them and won. I don’t give up easily.”
Derek had no idea why he was even still speaking with them. He didn’t know how to woo a lady. It was hardly something he’d been trained for in the military. But something about the way they both wanted to dismiss him brought out his competitive nature. That, and the fact he intended to master this particular skill before it was all over. True, Lady Cassandra had apparently been out for five seasons already, but he actually preferred that. Marrying a young girl held little appeal to him. And there was the added benefit that his interest in Lady Cassandra appeared to have Lady Lucy near to an apoplectic fit. That was just fun. And then there was his promise to Swift.
“But Cass is not interested,” Lady Lucy continued. “I thought I’d made myself clear.”
“You did make yourself clear, my lady, and I’m sorry,” he said, staring down his nose at her again.
Looking a bit mollified, she pushed up her chin and plucked an errant leaf from a curl near her forehead. “Sorry for bothering Lady Cassandra?”
He widened his grin. “No, sorry you’ve mistaken me for someone who gives a toss what you think, Miss Upton.”