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She was enjoying herself and it was not until the end of their dance, when she left Andrew to circulate and make sure that all her guests were having a good time, that she noticed Justin staring at her.
She inclined her head and smiled at him. His look was neither hostile nor angry, but rather puzzled, a little whimsical, as if he were trying to make up his mind about something.
She wondered what he was thinking. He had opened the dancing with her and she’d seen him dance with Jane Lanchester and one or two of his relatives, including Sir John’s wife, but mostly he seemed content to move about the room, engaging his friends in conversation.
He approached her at supper and asked if she were having a pleasant evening.
‘Yes, Justin,’ she said and smiled without restraint. ‘I think it has all gone well, do you not agree?’
‘Everyone is congratulating me on my choice of a wife. They like your manner, Lucinda, and the refreshing change you have brought to Avonlea.’
‘Oh…’ Her cheeks burned. ‘I am just being myself. I might have sent to London for the decorations had I thought there was time, but I was not sure who to use—and I enjoyed making the decorations myself.’
‘As a first attempt it was well done,’ he said, a note of qualified approval in his voice. ‘I dare say people are prepared to be generous to a young and lovely bride holding her first ball.’
‘Thank you, Justin. I shall, of course, consult your mother’s diaries in the future now that I understand you prefer a more professional approach.’
Keeping her head high and refusing to let herself be hurt, Lucinda walked away from him to join her guests. Was everyone just being kind because it was her first ball? She had thought they genuinely liked what she’d done, but it seemed that Justin thought her efforts were amateur and not up to the standard he was accustomed to. If they were just humouring her, it was too lowering.
‘Your Grace.’ A lady she had met only briefly earlier that evening came sailing up to her. She was wearing a purple gown, but had sewn black beads to the hem and now Lucinda noticed that she had stars, a moon and a black cat repeated around the gown. ‘May I congratulate you on your theme this evening? I love the way you have done these little murals and the hangings are so effective—as are the lanterns now that the light has gone outside.’
‘How kind of you, Lady Morgan. I fear it is all a little amateurish, but I was not sure who to consult in the matter of decoration.’
‘Not at all, I am all for using your own talent, Lucinda—may I call you Lucinda? I am giving a house party next month and I should like your advice about a theme I have in mind. Perhaps we could talk in the morning?’
Lucinda felt a rush of emotion. ‘I should be delighted. I am grateful for your approval, Lady Morgan.’
‘Do call me Veronica, my dear. I have every hope that we shall become good friends.’
‘Yes, I hope so, too.’ Lucinda swallowed hard. The lady’s approval, coming as it did after Justin’s remarks, had made her emotional. ‘I have few real friends in society as yet.’
‘But everyone likes you,’ Lady Morgan said. ‘You will be the toast of the town when you go to London in the spring.’
‘You are so kind.’ Lucinda smiled, the cloud lifting. She was by nature a happy person and she determined that she would gain friends and make her life as pleasant as possible. ‘I shall look forward to our talk tomorrow—at about eleven, if that suits you?’
‘Perfectly.’ Lady Morgan smiled. ‘I hope you did not mind my bringing my nephew with me? Simon was staying and asked if he might accompany me.’
‘You mean Mr Royston?’ Lucinda glanced at the young man standing a few feet away. He was, she noticed, staring at her oddly, but smiled and inclined his head as he saw her interest. ‘No, of course not. Had I known he was your guest I should have added his name to the invitation.’
‘I was sure that would be your answer. I believe him to be a great admirer of yours, Duchess—but, of course, everyone will be at your feet after this evening,’ the lady said before sailing majestically away to talk with her nephew.
Lucinda glanced at the young man once more. Something in his look at that moment made her feel uncertain, for his expression was calculating and cold rather than admiring. Briefly, she wondered why he’d told his aunt that he was an admirer. She did not recall having met the gentleman before that night, though there was something about him that disturbed her. Her thoughts were interrupted as someone spoke behind her.
‘Shall we dance?’
Lucinda turned in surprise to find Justin behind her. Her heart raced madly, because the expression in his eyes made her remember the first night they had met. She consulted her dance card and discovered she had a space; inclining her head, she accepted his outstretched hand.
‘Why not?’ she said. ‘We have danced only once this evening. In Harrogate we danced three times that first evening and my aunt forbade me to dance with you again for it looked so particular.’
‘I thought you the most perfect woman I had ever seen,’ Justin replied as he swept her into a waltz.
Lucinda tingled with pleasure. To be close to him like this was both a delight and a torture. She wanted to melt into him and let herself drift away on a cloud of enchantment, but kept a little distance between them. She must remember that she was a duchess.
Her throat was tight with emotion. If only her terrible secret had not come between them, how happy she might have been. She wondered what their guests would think if they knew she had a secret child hidden in a cottage in the woods. Ladies who smiled on her this evening would no doubt turn from her in disgust if they guessed her shame.
‘What are you thinking?’
Justin’s voice scattered her thoughts, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. ‘Nothing in particular.’
‘You looked sad—and that is my fault.’ Justin’s voice was suddenly deep, husky. ‘I do not mean to hurt you, Lucinda. I am sorry if I offended you earlier. Your decorations are delightful. I did not mean to be critical. Mama’s designers could not have done better.’
‘I am a mere amateur.’
‘Yes, but you have style and clever fingers. Your dress is charming. I hope you are satisfied with your ball?’
‘Yes, of course. I think the costumes are more medieval than like witches or wizards, but some people have gone to more trouble. Did you see the beading on Lady Morgan’s gown? She has motifs of witches, stars and cats.’
‘I had not noticed. Your gown looks like fairy gossamer.’
‘I am the Queen of the elves,’ Lucinda said and gave him the shy smile that had been missing for a while. ‘I think you must be an elf or a pixie.’
‘That was my theme. You wondered if anyone would have the courage to come as an elf, so I thought I would oblige you, but I could not quite manage the ears. I tried to make some pointed ears, but they flopped and looked more like a rabbit.’
Lucinda’s laughter rang out, causing one or two heads to turn indulgently their way. ‘You needed something to stiffen them. I would have helped you had you asked me.’
‘I wanted to surprise you.’
‘You make a fine elf king even without the ears,’ Lucinda said. ‘I think Jane looks lovely this evening. Green suits her, do you not agree?’
‘Miss Lanchester is always elegant, but her looks pale beside yours, Lucinda. Indeed, you outshine most ladies of my acquaintance.’
‘Only most?’ She tipped her head to one side, teasing him. ‘Your cousin Alfred was far more flattering. He said I was the most beautiful woman in England.’
‘Alfred was probably in his cups,’ Justin said and then looked struck. ‘No, I did not mean that—you are, but he has a reckless tongue when he drinks too much wine.’ He pulled a wry face and laughed, his eyes sparkling. ‘I am not making it better, am I?’
‘No, but I understand you.’ Lucinda smiled forgivingly. This was the man she had fallen in love with. He had come back to her, at least for a little while. ‘Your cousin is a pleasant gentleman, but over-fond of his wine and a little expansive in his compliments.’
‘You are very forgiving,’ Justin said and there was an odd reflective expression in his eyes. ‘I should try to follow your lead.’
‘The case is rather different. I had little to forgive,’ Lucinda said and then wished she had not as the smile faded from his lips.
‘We shall not speak of it again,’ Justin said and his lips tightened. ‘I have made up my mind. We shall be husband and wife in truth and forget the past.’
‘As you wish, Justin. I have never wished for anything else.’
Lucinda smiled serenely, but her heart was thumping so hard that she could scarcely breathe and she felt a spasm that was half-nerves, half-delight curl through her stomach.
Then, feeling that she was being watched, she turned her head and saw that Mr Royston was staring at her again. There was such a strange expression in his eyes—a look almost of gloating. A shiver of ice trickled down her spine. Why would a man she hardly knew look at her so knowingly?
Simon Royston’s eyes followed the beautiful duchess as she moved gracefully through the dance. She was undoubtedly a great success. Her first ball had hit the right note and everyone was talking of her wit and talent. She was thought to be a great asset to the duke.
A sly rather unpleasant smile touched Royston’s mouth as he wondered what some of these proud ladies would think, if they knew as much as he did. His gaze narrowed as the young duchess glanced at him. She turned away, a faint flush in her cheeks, as though she found his interest in her disturbing. Laughter rose inside him as he savoured his secret. The time was coming when he would put his knowledge to good use.
His misfortune was that he had expensive tastes. For the past two years or more he had been living beyond his means, his lifestyle supported by a run of luck at the tables. Of late his luck had deserted him. Royston was deeply in debt. His aunt had given him a thousand guineas, warning him it was the last time that she would pay his debts. He’d gambled on doubling his stake and lost. On the verge of fleeing abroad for a year or two, he’d stumbled across something that could make his fortune.
All he had to do was choose his moment.
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