Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN
“Another letter?” Garrett asked, strolling into the breakfast room the next morning. Jane had been nowhere to be found all morning, and Cass was still in her sickbed. Lucy had been eating alone, since Aunt Mary usually took her breakfast much earlier. But this morning Lucy hadn’t minded being alone. She’d just received another wonderful letter from Lord Berkeley.
“Yes.” Lucy nodded happily.
Garrett made his way to the sideboard and loaded ham, eggs, cheese, and toast onto a plate. Then he came to sit next to Lucy. “Ah, young love. It’s a wonderful thing.”
Lucy slapped at his shoulder. “Stop it. I’m not in love.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I’ve only barely met him. Though he does seem rather nice. And his letters are”—she sighed—“amazing.”
Garrett furrowed his brow. “Never knew Berkeley had it in him, to be honest. He wasn’t much of a writer at university.”
“I cannot believe that,” Lucy replied, rereading one of her particularly favorite passages. “Just listen to this part—” She opened her mouth to speak, but Garrett dropped his fork and clapped both hands over his ears. “No. No. I cannot listen to a love note written by one of my closest friends to my own cousin. Please do not attempt to subject me to such torture.”
Lucy laughed and set the letter aside. “Very well, but suffice it to say he is quite a good writer.”
Garrett shrugged. “If you say so. Seems odd that he isn’t visiting as much as he’s sending letters, however.”
Lucy took a sip from her teacup. “Not at all. He’s been preoccupied with his cousin’s wedding. Besides, between you and me, I believe he expresses himself a bit better in written word.”
“Ah, now that I do believe.” Garrett took healthy bite of eggs.
“It’s quite extraordinary, really. When he’s here, we barely speak two words to each other. But when he sends these letters, it’s as if an entire other world has opened up inside him and he can express who he truly is.”
“That’s a bit too poetic for me. I’m trying to eat.”
Lucy laughed again. “Oh, stop. You’re the one who introduced us, remember? I have you to thank for this pleasant acquaintance.”
Garrett waggled his eyebrows at her. “Sounds like more than an acquaintance to me. And speaking of acquaintances, I hear you’ve been spending time with Cassandra’s duke lately.”
Lucy shrugged and set the letter aside. “Only because Cass can’t. But I must say he’s been surprisingly pleasant.”
Another eyebrow waggle. “Pleasant? That is a surprise.”
Lucy took another sip. “Isn’t it?”
“Have anything planned for today?” Garrett asked.
“Yes, actually. The duke will be here at half two.”