Chapter THIRTY-THREE
Lucy rolled over on her bed and jammed her pillow over her face. This was all Jane’s fault. All right, very well, it was not Jane’s fault. But if she’d had a chance to speak with Jane in the last day or two, she might not have got into this untenable position. Kissing the Duke of Claringdon? Passionately? At his house? In the middle of the day? Unthinkable. But true. And doing … more. Much more. That was the only word she could conjure to classify the other things that had happened between them. Just thinking about them made her hot and left her wanting. She couldn’t help the little smile that popped to her lips.
Lucy tossed the pillow aside, scrubbed her hands over her face, and groaned. She stared at the ceiling. What was she to do? She was not only the worst friend in the entire world, she would die of guilt. That was all there was to it. She’d somehow managed to right her clothing and scramble out of Derek’s drawing room earlier without much of a good-bye, hideously awkward though it had been. They’d barely spoken two words to each other. No apologies. No discussion about how their little interlude would affect Derek’s courtship of Cass. No. Cass had not been mentioned and so much the better. What could they do to possibly make this right? There was no talking it away.
Lucy had faced the poor footman who’d been patiently waiting outside the whole time while she’d been tumbling around on the sofa with the duke. Thankfully, the servant didn’t say a word about her mussed clothing and wild hair. She pulled her bonnet down tight over her messy coiffure and nearly ran through the streets to get back home as soon as possible, the footman trailing her. That had been hours ago and she was still hidden in her room, alone with her regrets. Were they regrets? Or just deliciously wicked memories?
How would she ever explain this to Cass? And explain she must. “Oh, Cass dear, just a moment. You know the man who’s been courting you? The handsome duke? Yes, him. I just happened to do some unspeakably inappropriate things with him earlier. Have a happy marriage!”
Lucy couldn’t even laugh about it. It was ludicrous. It was wrong. And even though she knew Cass didn’t have deep feelings, or any really, for Derek, it still didn’t make what had happened between them acceptable. It was wrong, wrong, wrong. Blast it. Why had she allowed Cass to talk her into going over to Derek’s house? She’d known better. Truly known better. And at any rate she should have brought Janie with her. But instead, she’d pranced off knowing that she’d end up doing or saying something she shouldn’t. And oh, she’d done both. Spectacularly.
Where was Jane? Jane needed to tell her what to do. Lucy clamped the pillow back over her face and groaned.
* * *
After Lucy left his house, Derek made it his foremost duty to locate the boxing club in Bath and join immediately. He was already well into a bout with a chap who was little match for him. And yes, if truth be told, every punch he landed he pretended to be pummeling Berkeley. But despite having dealt some crushing blows, he still couldn’t erase the memory of his afternoon interlude with Lucy Upton.
How had his plan gone so wrong? Derek was nothing if not decisive. He prided himself on it. Lived for it. Lived because of it. Being decisive had literally saved his life more than once. His father’s words echoed in his brain: “A man is decisive. He makes decisions quickly, accurately. He doesn’t hesitate.”
Another punch.
And Derek’s decisiveness had caused him to choose Lady Cassandra to take to wife. She might be a bit shy and her penchant for using her friend to speak for her wasn’t her most endearing quality, but she was lovely, and sweet. Most important, she would be a steadfast wife. He could survive a bit of shyness while she was getting used to him.
What did he care if she thought she was in love with Julian? The stark truth was that Julian wouldn’t be coming back from the Continent and even if by some miracle he did, he couldn’t propose to Lady Cassandra. Besides, love didn’t exist. The fact that Cassandra thought she loved Julian demonstrated how inexperienced she was. But that was still acceptable. Love wasn’t part of the equation. Derek wanted a wife who would be true to him, of course, and he could tell that whatever unrequited love pulsed through her veins, Cassandra would not cuckold him. If Julian lived and married her cousin, Julian would never be so dishonorable as to be unfaithful, either. He knew his friend well enough to know that. Derek merely needed to convince Cassandra to give him a chance and see things from his perspective. They would make a fine match. They would have strong, healthy children. They would both go about their lives and their pursuits independently of each other as most of the couples of the ton did, and that was perfectly fine with him. His own parents might have enjoyed a very different marriage, but he inhabited a new world now. A successful union did not require the complication of passion.
Passion. He slammed another fist into the poor chap in front of him. The lad needed to learn to use his left with a bit more skill. He’d tell him as much after the match concluded.
Passion was what Derek had experienced with Lucy Upton this afternoon in his bloody rented drawing room of all places. Damn it. He hadn’t felt that on fire for a woman in … perhaps forever. It made him angry. Why? Because he’d felt out of control with her. He was never out of control. In fact he prided himself on being completely in control at all times. Lucy Upton made him feel lacking in control. It had been as if a force had come over him. He’d been unable to keep his hands off her. And damn it, he knew why.
The woman drove him mad. She was bossy, strong, and controlling. She was too sure of herself by half and she refused to back down. Derek was completely unused to anyone who wouldn’t retreat in the face of his will, especially that slip of a woman. Hell, he’d frightened seasoned generals in battle, but for some reason Lucy Upton was completely unintimidated by him. Her reputation preceded her. A wasp’s tongue was what they said about her. Wasp was an apt description. He’d been stung by her more than once now. But instead of it making him want to stay away from her the way it appeared to affect his fellow peers, Derek was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. To his chagrin, he found that he actually looked forward to his interactions with her, and for more reasons than one. Why did she have to be so bloody beautiful on top of it all? She was a challenge. A female challenge the likes of which he had never encountered. And it intrigued him.
Derek threw another punch that connected solidly with his opponent. Damn it. He’d already made his decisions. He didn’t want a challenge. He wanted peace. Another punch. And quiet. Another punch. No more fighting. A fourth punch. He’d had enough of fighting. Lucy Upton was the kind of woman who wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. She could have her bloody Lord Berkeley. So why did Derek crave her?
The chap across from him was a bloodied mess and acknowledged defeat. Too bad he wasn’t Berkeley. Derek apologized profusely for breaking his nose. Poorly done, that. He hadn’t meant to hurt the lad. But his mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Lucy Upton. Damn it.
Derek gathered his belongings and left the club. He took off on foot back to his town house. What about Lady Cassandra? He was supposed to keep courting her. Had promised Julian. But what sort of a scoundrel would he be, courting Cassandra after what he’d done with Lucy this afternoon? Damn it all, why had he done those things with Lucy? He was a highly trained military officer. He had no excuse for his loss of control around her. And the passion with which she’d responded to him—it made him hard again just thinking about it.
Blast it. What was he going to do? Things could not continue this way. That much was certain.
Apparently Lady Cassandra was ill. He believed that now. And though he didn’t wish an illness on her, it did afford him time. Time to think. Time to decide what to do next. About both ladies.