Page 24 of A Lady in Name

“Gracious, I have not seen this room before! Lucy, it is so quaint. Why did you not show it to me?”

Lucy moved through the door, aware of Stefan in her immediate rear. She would not turn. She would not acknowledge him. Let him see how angry he had made her.

She would not have chosen this way of re-entering the most important room in the house. In the event, what with the commotion and upset of the moment, she experienced only the briefest of tremors, and was at once called upon to play hostess. Her nerves and temper both steadied.

There were two prominent chairs, one behind the desk, the other before it, with a couple of straight backed chairs against the opposite wall. Unthinkable to sit in Papa’s seat. Lucy turned the chair before the desk and invited the curate to be seated.

Mr Waley demurred. “No, no, Miss Lucy. Do you take that chair. And my lady?”

He waved towards the chairs by the wall and Dion immediately perched on the further one. Lucy perforce sat down, noting Stefan remained standing by the door, dwarfing the little room in his greatcoat. She could not help but make comparison with poor Mr Waley’s far less prepossessing figure.

Lucy thrust the thought away, reflecting that at least Stefan’s manners were unimpeachable. Even if his actions were outrageously domineering.

Stefan caught the look she cast at him and his will strengthened. She might be as angry as she chose. At least he had thwarted whatever design she’d had in mind with this stick of a curate.

“I was exercised by your absence, Miss Lucy,” the fellow was saying, peering myopically at Lucy as if she were a specimen in a glass tank. “No one had the least idea where you were or for how long you would be gone.”

So she had told none here of her journey, reflected Stefan. Had he not said she was secretive? How was she going to get out of that one?

“I had business with Lord Pennington, sir, which — which was to do with my father’s legacy.”

Adroit, Lucy. Waley would take this “father” for Graydene, of course. The man looked pained.

“I had thought the lawyer dealt with all such matters.”

Stefan saw Lucy’s cheeks glow faintly pink. Should he intervene?

“It was a private matter. Nothing to do with the executor, or the will.”

Mr Waley’s hesitation was understandable. It was evident he would much have preferred to conduct this interview in private. His glance went from Dion to Stefan, a frown accentuating the extraordinary thinness of his features. How Lucy could contemplate marriage with the man was beyond comprehension.

“This business. I take it you have successfully concluded it?”

It was Lucy’s turn to look from one to the other of her cousins. Stefan deprecated Dion’s mischievous look and hoped he maintained his own bland expression. He must feel his way, depending on how Lucy played it.

“Not entirely,” she said. She drew a breath. “I am going to stay with the Ankervilles for a space. Lord Pennington brought me back so that I may pack my trunks and complete arrangements here ready for the new incumbent.”

To say Mr Waley looked shocked would be understating the case. He looked shattered. Stefan could almost feel sorry for the fellow.

“Going away? For how long? I had hoped — I mean, I had supposed you would go to your aunt, if you went anywhere.”

Stefan threw a sharp glance at Lucy. This was the first he had heard of an aunt. How many more secrets were to unfold before he had the full picture of Lucy Graydene’s life?

She had the grace to look confused. “No. Unhappily I am unable to go to Aunt Harriet.”

Mr Waley’s upset and confusion were evident as his voice cut into a higher register. “But I had thought it settled. She spoke of it to me at the funeral. Indeed, she intimated a visit to you there would be welcome. I had expected — nay, desired — to be permitted to settle matters in due course.”

“Once I was out of mourning,” stated Lucy, in the flat tone Stefan had no difficulty in recognising as the one she used to conceal her true feelings. “Yes, I understood that, Mr Waley.”

She fell silent, and the curate appeared to recall their company, casting an unloving glance at Dion and Stefan, who resolved not to be ousted unless a specific request were made for privacy between the pair. Even then, he would be within his rights to insist upon Dion remaining as chaperon.

He realised Lucy was looking at him. Stefan read it in her eyes before she spoke. “I must speak to Mr Waley alone, if you please.”

There was nothing to do but acquiesce, loath as he was to retire from the lists. Who knew but if the fellow made his proposals, Lucy might not accept him? He made up his mind.

“Certainly. But before we leave you, Mr Waley, perhaps I may be permitted a word?”

He came under the beam of the curate’s bespectacled gaze. “As I am indebted to you for learning of Miss Lucy’s presence here, my lord, I am of course at your service.” He moved towards the door, but Stefan held up a hand.