Page 79 of A Lady in Name

Lucy curbed her impatience with difficulty. “Please try to remember. It is important.”

“Yes, yes, I see.” He put his palsied hand to his brow, scratching absent-mindedly. “No, not Stisted, for he left me in the autumn of ’86. Who was it before him? Ah, yes, I have it.”

“His name?” rapped Stefan.

“Waley, it was. Yes, how could I forget? The dear boy came back to visit me only a short time since. The Reverend John Waley.”

Lucy was spitting fury. “How could he do that? How could he leave me in ignorance?”

They were seated in the only private parlour afforded by the Rose and Crown, which Cobbold had bespoken along with the bedchambers, of which there were but two, which had fortunately been unoccupied. The groom must make do with a room above the stables. Stefan had ordered dinner from the unsophisticated fare, and had acquired a bottle of wine while they awaited its arrival.

He poured a measure into a glass and handed it to Lucy. “Drink this. It may serve to settle your temper.”

Lucy took the glass. “Nothing will settle my temper until I confront Mr Waley in person.” She sipped at the liquid and made a face at the rough flavour.

“I apologise for the poor quality, but there was little choice.”

Lucy dismissed this with a gesture. “It does not matter in the least.”

Stefan set his own glass down. “Lucy, there is nothing to be gained by speculating. I am inclined to be as infuriated as you, but until we can ask Waley to explain himself, there is no purchase in discussing the matter.”

“Except it allows me to vent my spleen,” said Lucy crossly.

Stefan’s eye gleamed. “It had not escaped my notice.”

Lucy was obliged to laugh. Stefan reached across the table and took hold of her unquiet hand.

“Don’t waste any more time on it. We have far more important matters to discuss.”

His thumb caressed the flesh of her hand as he spoke, and a rosy glow settled in Lucy’s bosom. She tried to speak and found her throat dry. She swallowed.

“What do you wish to discuss?”

Stefan’s eyes became serious, and apprehension leapt in Lucy’s chest. “The date of our wedding.”

Her heart jolted. “Oh.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that all you have to say?”

Suddenly shy, she looked away from him, acutely aware of her hand resting in his. “You took me by surprise.”

Stefan got up and came around the table, drawing her to her feet. He took both her hands in his and brought her close so Lucy was looking directly into his eyes. “I am about to surprise you further.”

She could not speak. The consciousness of his proximity had awakened the little snakes rippling along her veins.

Stefan’s voice softened to a caressing murmur. “Lucy, I don’t want to wait to wed you. Oh, I know there are banns to be read or licences to be acquired. But unless you have an unshakeable fancy for all the trimmings of a society wedding, I would have you to wife in the shortest possible time: now, before we go home.”

Lucy wanted to ask him why such haste, but she read the answer in the depths of his eyes. She blinked away sudden wetness from her own. “I had no expectation of being married at all, and I don’t care for any of that fancy stuff.”

Stefan drew her gently into his arms and pressed her head into his shoulder. His voice rumbled in her ears. “I am relieved you have no further objection to the idea of being married.”

Lucy drew away so she could look up at him. “Why should I? Now I have seen what my mother wanted me to see.”

Stefan’s quick frown made her realise what she had said. “What in the world are you talking of, Lucy?”

Haltingly, she told him of the strange sensations she had experienced in the vestry of St Bride’s church. “I am convinced it was Alice.”

Stefan looked sceptical, but indulgent. “Do you suppose her shade has been haunting the place for twenty-three years?”