Page 14 of To Break the Rules

Lucia had noticed, in fact, but she took a deal less pleasure in the fact than Bonnie seemed to. She’d felt the weight of their gazes, felt the speculation of their wondering just what her price was, how much they would need to spend to gain entry to her bed and her body. A shudder ran over her. She prayed it never came to that.

“Who else is here, Bonnie?” Matilda asked, looking about the crowds.

“I saw Ruth earlier, and Prue is supposed to be coming, though I’ve not seen her. I think Harriet is here… oh, yes, there she is. Harriet… helloooo! Harriet!”

Matilda winced as Bonnie shrieked her friend’s name over the heads of the assembled company, and Lucia bit her lip to hold back a laugh. Those around them cast disparaging looks of disapproval at Bonnie, who flushed and seemed to deflate a little.

“Oops,” she said with a rueful smile. “Sorry.”

“Never mind, dear,” Matilda said with a soothing tone. “Just, perhaps a tad less exuberance?”

“Yes, Mama,” Bonnie said with a saucy grin, before hurrying away to find Harriet.

“Wretch,” Matilda said, shaking her head and laughing as Bonnie ran off, dark curls bouncing as she went.

“It’s how you feel, though, isn’t it?” Lucia said, turning her attention to Matilda. “You’re the mother hen, scurrying about after her chicks.”

To her surprise, Matilda blushed a little and then gave a little laugh of acknowledgement.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I… well, I always imagined I’d be married with children by now.”

Lucia felt a surge of empathy for her. Matilda was twenty-five, and perilously close to being on the shelf. She had beauty, and—thanks to her brother—a generous dowry, yet the Marquess of Montagu had cast a shadow over her, and no eligible man would marry soiled goods for fear of becoming a laughingstock.

“But,” Matilda continued, “my happy ever after seems to be out of my reach, so I’ve decided to ensure all of my friends have theirs. At least then, when I’m a faded old spinster, I shall have lots of offers to go and stay with them. Then I won’t have to outstay my welcome in any one place.”

She said it with laughter and a teasing note, but Lucia could hear the thread of truth—and the fear—behind the words. They both knew many would already consider her a spinster, too old to be certain of providing the necessary heir. Impulsively, she reached out and took Matilda’s hands.

“It’s not over, Matilda. There must be a good man out there for you. Don’t give up yet.”

Matilda squeezed her hands and smiled. “Dear Lucia,” she said with such affection in her voice that Lucia’s throat grew tight. “And here I was thinking you believed good men were the stuff of fairy stories, like unicorns and magical godmothers.”

Lucia laughed at that, and nodded. “Indeed, from my point of view they are, but it’s different for you.”

“How so?” Matilda stared at her, looking puzzled and intrigued.

Lucia cursed her unguarded tongue. She shook her head and pasted a smile to her face. “It just is. Oh, look,” she added, changing the subject before Matilda could pursue it further. “Here is Harriet.”

Indeed, Bonnie seemed not to have found Harriet yet, as the young woman hurried up to them alone looking harassed and irritated. She was an earnest girl who possessed a mind that made Lucia feel inadequate and not a little envious. Lucia thought her a tad intimidating, which Matilda had found amusing when she’d confessed it, for it appeared Harriet felt the same way about Lucia, albeit for totally different reasons. Apparently, Harriet was dazzled by Lucia and often became a little tongue-tied in her presence. Now that was funny.

The young woman pushed her spectacles up her nose in a nervous gesture Lucia now recognised.

“Hello, Harriet. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“No,” Harriet replied, sounding terse and disapproving. “That abominable man took Henry out drinking before coming here, and now he’s… foxed.”

Harriet mouthed rather than said the word, which made Lucia smile. She assumed the description of abominable man could only pertain to the Earl of St Clair, who was the best friend of Harriet’s brother, Henry. Quite why Harriet held such animosity for him, no one seemed to know. It was clear that she, Henry, and St Clair had all grown up together, so Lucia assumed it stemmed from some historical event which Harriet found unforgivable. Yet the earl always sought her company, though often it seemed with the express intention of rattling Harriet’s cage. He appeared to Lucia rather like a little boy pulling at her pigtails, but she kept such observations to herself, assuming Harriet would not welcome them.

“Really?” Matilda said, frowning a little. “He doesn’t look foxed.”

Harriet looked around and then followed Matilda’s gaze to where Henry, St Clair, and—oh, good heavens—Lord Cavendish were heading their way.

“Oh, blast,” Harriet and Lucia muttered in unison.

They exchanged a glance, their lips quirking in mutual sympathy.

Lucia avoided Lord Cavendish’s eye as they exchanged greetings, though she could feel the weight of his gaze on her. The urge to look up was irritating, like an insect bite demanding you scratch it at once, even though you knew it was a bad idea. Inevitably, the temptation was too much to resist.

“Ah, there you are,” he murmured, grinning at her, that pirate smile making something hot and wilful unfurl under her skin. “I wondered how long you could ignore me for.”