Chapter THIRTY-EIGHT
“So what did you and Cass have on the agenda for today?” Lucy asked with a saucy smile when Derek appeared at the town house that afternoon.
Derek returned her smile and bowed over her hand. “I was hoping to tour the ruins. The bathhouses.”
Lucy sat on a settee in the drawing room. As soon as she saw Derek, her plan to get out of the day’s activity somehow vanished into ash. What harm did it do, really, for her to spend time with him? He wanted to get to know more about Cass, didn’t he? She could help.
Very well. Perhaps the harm it did was that in the last few days while she’d been busily romping with Derek, she hadn’t spent any time whatsoever with Lord Berkeley. Oh, the entire thing was so backward and awful. And to make matters worse, soon Lord Berkeley would be returning to London for a bit before retiring to the country for the autumn and winter. She might not see him again for quite a long while. All of these arguments and more raced through Lucy’s head. Guilt, it seemed, was her constant companion. But it didn’t keep her from looking up at the handsome duke standing in front of her and saying, “Visit the bathhouses? Now, that is something I’d very much like to do.”
He bowed to her gallantly and offered his arm. “I’m assuming Lady Cassandra continues to be waylaid with a cold.”
“Yes, poor girl,” Lucy replied. More guilt. The truth was she hadn’t even checked to see how Cass was doing today. Just assumed—no, hoped—that her friend was still stricken with her cold so that she, awful person she was, might enjoy more time with her beau.
Derek smiled at Lucy. “By all means, then, let’s go.”
They strolled together out of the drawing room just as Garrett walked past. “Good afternoon.” Garrett gave Lucy a raised brow. “Claringdon.” He nodded toward the duke.
“Upton.” Derek inclined his head in Garrett’s direction.
“Here to see Cass, I assume?” Garrett asked.
“Yes, and since she remains ill, Lady Lucy and I have decided to go see the bathhouses together.”
To his credit, Garrett’s face remained completely blank. “Ah, I see. Enjoy yourselves.”
Lucy wrinkled her nose at her cousin but continued through the foyer with Derek.
“Oh, Lucy,” Garrett called out when they’d nearly reached the door.
She turned. “Yes?”
“Berkeley says he hopes to have the chance to see you again before he leaves town.”
Lucy dropped her gaze to her shoes. Guilt, guilt, and more guilt. “Yes. That would be … nice.”
Garrett gave her a funny look and strode away.
Derek frowned but helped Lucy retrieve her bonnet and cloak. Then he escorted her out of the town house and assisted her into his carriage. Lucy nearly gasped when she stepped inside. The conveyance was smartly appointed with squabs of deep claret velvet and polished brass fixtures. A carriage fit for a duke. She couldn’t help but think that the next time she rode in this carriage it might be as the friend of the Duchess of Claringdon, Cass.
A footman and a groom accompanied them as the coach rumbled over the mud through town to the bathhouses. When they came to a stop in front of the imposing stone structure, Derek helped Lucy to alight from the coach. She tried to ignore the pulse of heat that shot up her arm when he touched her. This is for Cass, she reminded herself as he placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her along to the ruins.
They entered the large building. The high gothic arches and stonework made Lucy turn in a circle, examining everything, her mouth a wide O.
“You’ve never seen this before?” Derek asked, watching her fascination.
“Oh, I’ve seen it before, more than once,” she replied. “But it never fails to amaze me.”
For some reason, he smiled at that.
“I’ve never seen it before.” He looked up and turned in a circle, too. “What do you think we should explore first?”
Lucy nearly clapped her hands. “Oh, the pool. The pool.”
“What’s the pool?”
She gestured with her hand. “Follow me.”
Derek followed her down a corridor and through a dank, dark tunnel that smelled like copper. They came out in a cool, shadowed room that had a green pool in the center.
“See.” Lucy gestured toward the water.
They made their way over to the edge.
“I would have never known this was here,” Derek said.
Shadows played off the wall, and the light from the pool made rings around the room. They glowed brightly and then faded depending on the movement of the water.
Lucy took a deep breath. Removing her gloves, she bent down and skimmed her fingers over the surface of the pool. “No one knew it was here for so long. It’s amazing to think how long it went undiscovered.”
Derek slid his hands into his pockets. “Yes, hundreds of years.”
Lucy stood and tilted up her chin to look at him. “Do you have a coin?”
“A coin? Why?”
She smiled. “They say if you toss a coin in this pool, your wish shall come true.”
“Do they?” Derek’s look could only be described as skeptical.
“Yes. But you cannot tell anyone what you wish for or it may not come true.”
He poked his cheek out with his tongue. “You believe that?”
She shrugged. “No use tempting fate.”
He pulled a small pouch from an interior pocket of his coat and fished out a coin. He handed it to her. “Here you are, my lady.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” Lucy took the coin from his hand, trying to ignore the warmth of his bare skin. She squeezed the coin in her fist, closed her eyes, and whispered her wish to herself. Let everything work out the way it is meant to with Cass and Julian and Derek and Lord Berkeley. Oh, and myself. And Jane and Garrett, too. Was that too much to wish for? Too late. She tossed the coin in the pool, watching as the little piece of metal slipped beneath the surface. Ripples spread out from the spot where it had vanished.
Lucy turned to Derek. “Now it’s your turn,” she announced.
“I’ll keep my coins, I think.” He stuffed the little pouch back into his coat.
Lucy crossed her arms over her middle. “Not a believer, Your Grace?”
“On the contrary, I believe in many things, my lady. For instance, I believe that sound decision-making causes better results than tossing coins into a pool.” The way he looked at her made Lucy very aware of the fact that they were alone together in the hushed little room. The footman and the groom had stayed outside with the coach.
She pushed a wayward curl behind her ear, intent upon changing the subject. “Do you believe the waters truly have curative effects?”
Derek smiled. He slipped his hands back into his pockets. “I’ve no idea, but I cannot think it would hurt to try them. I’ve heard that people bathe in the hot springs.”
Lucy gulped. She nodded. An image flashed through her mind, one of herself in a wet, clingy bit of fabric in the hot water of the springs with Derek, his lips at her neck, his hands on her thighs, his …
“The Romans were truly amazing,” he said, snapping Lucy from her wayward thoughts. She pressed a hand against her throat and shook her head. “Y … yes,” she managed to choke out, still actively picturing him without his shirt.
“I studied their battles extensively at university,” he added.
Lucy’s head snapped to the side to face him. “You attended university?” The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to examine them. Oh, God. She wanted to kick herself for the rudeness of her question, not to mention the awful tone in which she’d asked it. As if there was no possible way it could be true. She briefly considered jumping into the pool to hide. No. Too idiotic. Plus, it would ruin her clothing. On the other hand, Derek might jump in to save her. And that presented a tempting possibility.
“Does it surprise you that I went to university?” The hint of a smile played upon his distracting lips.
“No. No. No. Of course not.” But there was no going back. Her babbling denial was useless.
He arched a brow, telling her without a word that he thought she was protesting a bit too much. “There is much to learn from history books and the armies of the past. I wasn’t only trained as a soldier. I studied all the greats, Charlemagne, Hadrian, Genghis Khan.”
Lucy stared unblinking into the pool. She nodded slowly. It had been unfair of her, truly unfair, to believe he was merely a brute soldier, not a gentleman. She hadn’t known anything about him really. She’d judged him entirely on his status of not having been born into the aristocracy. She swallowed, unable to peel her gaze from the brownish stone of the floor of the bathhouse. The guilt was really beginning to compound today, wasn’t it?
“Cass should be here,” Lucy blurted out, thinking for some reason that inserting Cass back into the conversation was the right thing to do.
A frown marred his forehead for the barest hint of a second. “Do you think Lady Cassandra would like this?” He gestured to the temple walls, the pool.
“The ruins?” Lucy wrinkled her nose. “Not particularly. Cass is more interested in painting and playing the pianoforte than history or reading. Jane and I are the ones who adore things like this.”
“We’ll have to bring Jane with us next time then,” he said with a smile.
Lucy glanced away. Would there be a next time for them, coming here? That was an odd thought, wasn’t it? “I think Jane and Aunt Mary already visited the ruins. Though I’m certain Jane would be eager to return. She always prefers to learn as much as she can about everything.”
Derek strode around the room, his boots crunching along the gravel near the pool’s edge. “Are she and Upton courting?”
Lucy nearly tripped. Her laughter echoed off the great stone walls. “Garrett and Jane? They can barely tolerate each other. Though I do think much of it is for show. They sort of engage in a merry war of words and have for years. It all began when I brought Jane to the theater with me and she met Garrett for the first time. They both vehemently disagreed about the premise of the play we’d gone to see and it seems they have been continuing the argument ever since.”
Derek turned to face her, another smile on his lips. “What was the play?”
“Much Ado About Nothing.”
This time his laughter echoed off the walls. “That’s ironic.”
Lucy smothered her smile. “I suppose it is, isn’t it?”
“If they can barely tolerate each other, why did they come to the ruins together?”
Lucy shrugged. “Jane likes to pretend that Garrett needs to be educated in such things, and Garrett likes to tease Jane about being a pedantic bluestocking. It’s just their way. They actually enjoy each other’s company, I suspect, though neither of them would ever admit it.”
“And Cassandra and Julian? You said they’ve never indicated that they have feelings for each other?”
“Not that I know of. Cass has known Julian since she was a girl. He’s distantly related to her cousin. Penelope’s parents and Julian’s parents have had their betrothal planned for years. Cass had a schoolgirl infatuation with him that she never outgrew. Then Julian went off to the army and she hasn’t seen him in … probably seven years. She’s written to him every day, far more than Penelope ever has.”
“Yes, Swift mentioned her letters. They kept him sane, I believe.”
Lucy searched Derek’s face. “Did Julian ever mention that he had deeper feelings for Cass?”
Derek scuffed at the stone floor with his boot. “I’ve thought about that a lot over the last few days. I don’t remember him indicating anything other than she was the cousin of his soon-to-be betrothed and a good friend to him. If I’d thought he loved her, I never would have promised to marry her.”
Lucy glanced away. “Even though he was dying.”
“It would have been quite awkward,” Derek said.
“But now you feel … obligated?”
He nodded.
Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat and twined her fingers together. “Cass has been so worried about him. So frightened. Her worst fears came true when she learned he’d been gravely injured.”
Derek braced his foot against a large rock on the side of the pool. “I wish I could have stayed with him. Until”—his voice nearly cracked—“the end.”
Lucy nodded solemnly. She walked over to Derek and put her hand on his sleeve. “I’m certain you did everything you could.”
He clenched his fist. “The surgeons told me there was nothing I could do, and my orders were to return to London immediately to debrief the War Office about my involvement in the battle.”
“Julian must have known you couldn’t stay.”
Derek’s face was grim. He cursed under his breath. “War is hell.”
Lucy bit her lip and pulled her hand away from his sleeve. The quiet of the room, the pool, the words they’d just shared. She had to say something probably neither of them wanted to think about. “Derek, when Cass gets better, what shall we do?”
Silently, Derek pulled out the pouch again, extracted a coin, and tossed it into the pool.
Lucy blinked. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you, Lucy, or it might not come true.”