Page 52 of A Lady in Name

“I don’t think so. It seems to me admirable to our purposes if Lady Sarclet does think me a servant. Indeed, it fits well with Mrs Ankerville’s earlier suggestion, that I am an indigent relative come to help with her work.”

Conscious of listening ears, Stefan looked round for the footman, but Hawkesbury gave him a nod of reassurance. Having removed the used dishes, James had left the dining parlour.

“Paulina would never believe Mama had engaged a helper,” he said, giving Lucy an apologetic look, “though it is an excellent notion.”

Her eyes flashed. “You need not patronise me, my lord!”

The room fell silent. Stefan clamped down on a rise of annoyance. Dion was frantically trying to engage Lucy’s attention with a pair of wriggling eyebrows, while Corisande was looking at Lucy as at a rare poem.

Mortified at forgetting herself in public, Lucy could only be relieved when the butler saved the day by beginning to serve the next course. She really must make more of an effort to keep her tongue.

“What was it you had decided, Stefan?” Dion asked.

He did not look at Lucy, who was thus able to watch him surreptitiously as he responded. “I was of the opinion we should use the tale I gave to the curate.”

“What, that Mr Graydene commended Lucy to Uncle Beves’s care because of some long-forgotten obligation?”

“Precisely. But on reflection, I suspect it will scarcely pass muster with Paulina.”

“Gracious, yes. She would be bound to plague us with question. She always does when her papa is in the case.”

“Which is why I think the indigent relative is preferable. And we had best make it on Corisande’s side. To set the relationship far from any connection with the Ankervilles seems to me the safest course.”

He was unprepared for what his mother had to say to this. “You cannot expect Paulina to be blind, Stefanus. Do you suppose she has never looked in a mirror?”

Stefan frowned. “Meaning?”

Corisande raised her brows. “For all I know Beves fathered a multitude of bastards, but there can be no doubt he left his mark on his daughters.”

Shock rippled through Stefan. “Mama, how did you know Lucy is his daughter? I distinctly recall it was not mentioned.”

“No, indeed,” agreed Dion. “You asked no questions, Mama, so we said nothing.”

Lucy’s chest had dropped sharply at Mrs Ankerville’s words, and she was the more disturbed by the expression of astonishment on that lady’s face.

“Why should I need telling? I have eyes in my head, have I not?”

Dion’s own eyes were popping as they came around to Lucy’s face. “You mean she looks like Paulina? Oh, no. No, no, Mama. Why, Lucy has a charming countenance, while Paulina —” She left the sentence unfinished, her wrinkled nose proof enough of her opinion of her cousin’s features.

Lucy caught Stefan looking at her, his brows beetled in a concentrated frown. “I confess at first I could see points of resemblance. Paulina has dark hair like yours, Lucy. And her eyes are perhaps similar, but paler in colour.”

Mrs Ankerville uttered a disbelieving laugh. “Hair? Eyes? Heavens, Stefanus, but use yours!” Her hand swept an encompassing arc across Lucy’s features. “The shape of the face; the little determined chin; the width of the brow. Granted, Paulina has grown chubby in the face, big as she is with child. But you cannot have forgotten how she looks under normal circumstances. They might be sisters.”

“I must be gone from here!”

Lucy was pacing the carpet in Stefan’s study, while he perched upon the edge of the desk, watching her.

The shock in her face at Corisande’s appalling revelation had struck him to the core. He had known how desperately upset she was, and it did not surprise him when she developed a headache before dinner was over and excused herself.

Dion had risen. “Shall I go after her? Though what in the world can be said?”

Corisande had looked from one to the other of them. “Dear me, have I put the cat among the pigeons?”

“Well and truly, I fear, Mama,” Stefan said drily. And to Dion, “I will go. This is likely the opportunity I need, though I’ve been reluctant to look for it.”

He had left the room on the words, giving Dion no opportunity to enquire further into his meaning. It had not taken many minutes to track Lucy down. He caught her up in the corridor on her way to her chamber. He had given her no chance to evade him, taking her arm in a firm grip.

“Come to my study.”