Page 16 of To Break the Rules

“I think the study is this way,” Harriet said as the other girls followed in her wake.

She led them out of the ballroom and through a series of connected rooms, each more opulent than the next. Lucia’s stomach churned, anger burning under her skin as she saw the way the man lived. To have all of this and to still need more, to have squandered so much…. Bile rose in her throat as emotion coursed through her, and she scolded herself for allowing it. She’d not come this far only to ruin everything by losing her head.

Suddenly they found themselves in a larger foyer, and Harriet grinned.

“It’s that one,” she said.

Lucia took a deep breath and nodded. “Well, then, you girls stay here and keep watch and I’ll go and… have a drink,” she said, laughing suddenly as the ridiculousness of the situation dawned on her.

“And smoke a cigar,” Kitty said, looking envious at the idea.

“And smoke a cigar,” she agreed, winking at Kitty.

Leaving them on the threshold of the study, she opened the huge door and peered around, just to be certain the place was empty. It was a huge room, dimly lit with only one lamp burning, illuminating a massive oak desk.

Lucia slipped inside and closed the door behind her. Quickly she noted a tantalus bearing what she suspected were decanters of brandy and whisky. Selecting one at random, she poured a small measure into a crystal glass with trembling hands, and carried it over to the desk. To her relief, an elaborately decorated cigar box sat atop the desk and the key was in the lock. Turning it, she opened the box, and then gasped at the erotic scene displayed on the inside of the lid. A large and leering man was making free with a woman who seemed less than thrilled by his attentions. Both parties were naked and illustrated with great attention to detail. Lucia shuddered at the scene, took a cigar, and slammed the box shut again.

Lucia’s hand stilled on the box as she looked down and noticed the cigar cutter. Her breath caught. Delicately made of carved ivory, a memory flashed of it in her father’s hands. He’d shown her how to cut the end off of the cigar and toast the foot before lighting it when she was a very little girl. She’d sat on his knee, transfixed by the ritual and the curling smoke that had filled the room as he’d puffed on the cigar. He’d told her he travelled a great deal as a young man and had picked up the habit abroad. She remembered watching him with eager interest as he blew smoke rings over her head.

Her heart ached as she thought of him, though his face had grown dim and shadowy over the years. Now she recalled only green eyes, full of kindness, and the tone of his voice. She’d loved his voice, loved to hear him talk to her.

Lucia held the cigar to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the tobacco as tears pricked at her eyes. Setting it down, she reached for the cutter. As she held the cool, slender tusk in her hand, she felt a rush of anger that it was here, on this man’s desk.

As if performing some religious rite, Lucia cut and prepared the cigar, exactly as her father had shown her, and took a deep draw. She choked and spluttered, her eyes watering for a different reason as the smoke stole her breath. Reaching for the glass, she took a sip and sighed as the smooth warmth of the brandy eased her throat. Trying once again, she took another, smaller puff of the cigar, remembering not to inhale but only hold the smoke in her mouth. She blew out a cloud of smoke that drifted about her in a haze.

Better.

Setting the cigar aside, she looked about the desk for paper and pen, and settled to her real object in being here.

Lucia smiled as she dipped the quill into the ink and began to draw.

Chapter 5

Why do I let that wretched man get under my skin? Just because he’s handsome and titled, people hang on his every word. Even Lord Cavendish, who seems a sensible man, apparently esteems him. Yet he’s a brainless nincompoop and ought not to have the power to irritate me. I should treat his comments like the droning of a stupid fly, a minor annoyance and nothing more. Why then do I want so badly to give him a set down?

―Excerpt of an entry by Miss Harriet Stanhope, to her diary.

6th July 1814. The Earl of Ulceby’s ball, Hyde Park, London.

Silas ducked back behind a marble column as he saw the three young women huddled together. Frowning, he noted that Lucia was not amongst them.

It had been the devil’s own job to track them down in the massive house, and it was only by luck that he’d stumbled upon them. One of his friends had been certain he’d seen Miss de Feria in their company, however. So… where was she? Then he realised the girls were standing guard. Lucia was inside the room they dithered beside. What were they up to?

Curiosity and anxiety stirred in his chest. If anyone discovered her, there would be a scene. At that moment, he heard a door opening and chanced another peek around the column. His mouth fell open, an astonished laugh catching in his throat as he saw Lucia, leaning against the door jamb in a nonchalant pose, with a glass of what looked like brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other. He blinked as she raised the cigar to her lips, took a drag, and blew out a cloud of smoke as the other three girls laughed and clapped their hands in delight.

“You little devil,” he murmured, grinning from the seclusion of his hiding spot.

Something lit up inside him at her daring, at her desire to taste something forbidden to nice young ladies of the ton. For a moment he wished he’d had the chance to introduce her to such illicit pleasures, but then decided against it. From the triumphant look in her eyes it had been something she was proud of having done alone, and he couldn’t take that from her.

On the heels of that thought, however, came another: of the other kinds of pleasures to be had and enjoyed. He closed his eyes.

“Behave,” he scolded himself.

She was not to be someone’s mistress; she’d told him that much. The only way to make her his was to marry her and, after his behaviour, he knew she’d throw any offer back in his face. Not that he could blame her for that. Besides, he was a long way from knowing if that was something he wanted to consider. The certainty she was up to something lingered, and he needed to know what that something was before he got involved with her. He needed to know her better.

Silas pressed into the shadows behind the column while the girls hurried back towards the ballroom, the sounds of rustling skirts and excited murmurs of congratulations fading as Lucia and her friends departed. About to leave and make his way back himself, Silas froze when he heard quick footsteps cross the marbled floor.

Once more hugging the shadows, he held his breath, seeing the Earl of Ulceby heading towards the room Lucia had only just vacated, his son Edgar in tow. His stomach lurched as he realised how close she had been to discovery.