Page 84 of A Lady in Name

“You must have realised there had been no rebuff when we escorted Lucy here to fetch her belongings. Yet you failed to reveal the secret knowledge you believed you alone possessed.”

Lucy’s shock hammered protest in her head. She eyed the curate with dawning anger. “You said nothing. Instead you asked me to marry you.”

Stefan uttered a short bark of laughter. “Of course he did. He never had the least intention of telling you.” He closed in towards the curate, who flinched back, cheeks pinching tight. “Is that not correct, my dear sir? You used cunning, I’ll grant you. You surmised Lucy might be less inclined to marry you if she knew the truth. Your best chance of success lay in being the magnanimous parson who would marry her in despite of her nameless state.”

Dismayed, Lucy stared at him. “Is it true? But why did you want me? How could I benefit you? It could not be love!”

The curate threw out a hand at this. “Believe what you wish, but my regard for you is sincere.”

“I don’t believe it,” Lucy declared.

“Oh, I think you may,” Stefan said unexpectedly. “I doubt he had the wit to think he might gouge a petty fortune out of the Ankervilles.”

Mr Waley drew himself up straight, his cheeks flying colour. “Sir, you insult me!”

“On the contrary, I have just said I acquit you of any mercenary motive. But I take leave you tell you that I find your actions cowardly and dishonourable. You are a disgrace to your cloth.”

Mr Waley seemed to shrink into himself. His legs buckled, and he just managed to reach the chair before he fell into it. Lucy could not withstand a rush of pity.

“Enough, Stefan. You have reviled him enough.” She went to the curate and held out her hand. “I must bid you farewell. For Papa’s sake, let us part as friends.”

Mr Waley managed to nod as he took her hand in a weak grip. “You are very good, Miss Lucy.”

“May I help you up?”

He shook his head, releasing himself. “I will manage, I thank you.”

Rising shakily from the chair, he made his slow way towards the door. But Stefan moved, halting him with a hand upon his arm before he could reach it.

“One moment. If you are minded to make amends, you may readily do so. I am in need of a special licence. Where may I find the nearest bishop?”

Lucy felt fortunate in the weather as the curricle, equipped with a borrowed team from the Rose and Crown, bowled along in the direction of Chaseley and the Cullicudden farm. It was a crisp afternoon, but the sun peeked intermittently between the clouds, making the day pleasant. The way was convoluted, but Stefan recalled it from their previous visit.

Lucy had asked Stefan at luncheon if he would take her back to the Oade farmstead, a decision he had not hesitated to question.

“Are you sure you want to return there?”

“Yes,” Lucy said staunchly.

Stefan eyed her frowningly as he forked a mouthful of pie. “But why?”

“It came to me all in a bang, when you said we must be married without delay.”

Last night, in the aftermath of Stefan’s careful initiation of his prospective bride into the intricacies of the marriage bed, which proceeding Lucy had enjoyed with a fervour she could not conceal, he had been adamant their wedding must take place immediately.

His frown now deepened. “Exactly so. And since, thanks to Mr Waley’s intelligence, we must journey to Gloucester for a special licence, we cannot afford the time. Can’t it wait?”

“No, it can’t, so we must make time,” Lucy insisted. “It is far more important than our wedding.”

“After last night? How can you say so?”

Lucy drew a painful breath. “That is just it, Stefan. I cannot be wholly yours until I have done this.”

He looked a little hurt. “After you have given yourself to me? You are mine, Lucy.”

She reached out to him across the table, and he gave her his hand. Lucy brought it to her cheek, and Stefan cupped her face.

“What is troubling you, my sweet?”