CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
In fact, Sir Lucius was being very circumspect.
He wanted nothing more than to have the chance of conversation alone with her, but gauged that to appear over-keen would ruin all.
He therefore watched her, covertly, as she stopped here and there, received compliments and congratulations, 193laughed softly at some witticism of young Southram’s.
He felt as if only she remained in focus, and everyone else was vaguely blurred.
With planning worthy of Lord Easby, he positioned himself so that he might approach her in time to lead her in to supper, although their conversation would have to be superficial under the eyes of many.
However, he was beaten to this pleasure by the unexpected presence of Lord Nuneaton, who, having just failed to secure Miss Amelia Ashling, descended upon her cousin.
That she would far rather have declined his arm was clear, and for a brief moment her eyes met Sir Lucius’s, and he saw the embarrassment and, yes, disappointment within them.
Was it disappointment because she did not like Nuneaton, or that it had not been himself leading her in to supper?
He told himself not to read so much into it, and went to ask a slightly shy-looking young lady to take his arm.
It could not be said that Elizabeth enjoyed supper as much as she had hoped, despite the well-chosen repast. Lord Nuneaton chose to treat her to his uninhibited manner, secure in the knowledge that in such a public place she might not do anything about it.
It was an appropriate revenge, so he thought.
She found him offensive more from the intimate tone he adopted than his actual words, but itched to slap the self-satisfied pink cheeks.
By the end of supper she could feel her own anger marring her visage.
It was not, perhaps, the most propitious time for Sir Lucius to approach her, and her eyes flashed as brilliantly as the diamonds at her bosom.
‘I must apologise, Miss Ashling.’
‘Apologise, Sir Lucius? For what?’
194‘For failing you in your hour of need. Had I not been distracted by Lady Micheldever, I would have pre-empted Nuneaton’s request to lead you in to supper.’
She looked at him, the angry fire glowing. He understood so much, and yet he understood so little if he thought her his for the mere asking.
‘You feel you had the right, sir?’
‘No. Not the right, but every chivalrous instinct.’ He looked very serious, and his voice was calm. If she expected him to fan the flames of her wrath for her, she was mistaken.
‘Oh.’
‘Miss Ashling, might I beg a few minutes’ conversation with you, somewhere a little more private?’
‘No. I mean, it would be remarked upon, Sir Lucius.’ She looked flustered, nervous.
‘I think we are at cross-purposes, Miss Ashling. I wish to speak to you in order to correct a misapprehension that owes everything to malicious rumour. If you would but indicate a chamber where we might be private, you might slip away first and I would follow some minutes later, if you are concerned about gossip.’
She frowned. He sounded very reasonable, and very dispassionate.
‘I am not sure …’ she faltered.
‘Be sure.’
She looked at him, and trusted. ‘There is a small withdrawing room on this floor, at the back of the house, adjacent to the room where supper was laid out. I will meet you there.’
He bowed and walked away to exchange pleasantries with 195an acquaintance, and Elizabeth, feeling very clandestine, slipped out, unaware that Lady Chalford had watched the interchange and was smiling benignly at her.
The withdrawing room was a peaceful haven, but Elizabeth felt more as though she was entering a lion’s den. She sat, then stood, then walked up and down in agitation, and when the door opened, and Sir Lucius entered, she was gripping the back of a chair as if it were her only support. He noted it.
‘Thank you for seeing me, Miss Ashling. I shall not insult you by beating about the bush. I fear that you have been made aware of a rumour that’ – he paused for a moment – ‘that I had the temerity to be about to propose marriage to you in arrogant confidence that you would accept me on the spot. This is so?’
She nodded.
‘The rumour, and it was merely that, was started by a lady who is partial to malice. She observed me in a jeweller’s where I took a minor heirloom to be cleaned, upon my mother’s instructions.
The unfortunate phrasing of one of Mr Rundell’s remarks might have led to supposition.
However, the lady must have been very aware that my other purchase was simply a small brooch, the very brooch that I sent to you today. ’
Elizabeth felt a wave of relief, that was yet tinged with something else, run through her.
‘So you are not about to make me an offer, Sir Lucius.’ She tried to sound light-hearted, but the smile was a little awry.
‘Not about to, Miss Ashling, and if I should ever do so, 196be assured it would not be with any insufferably puffed-up assumptions as to your answer.’
‘I see. Thank you for your honesty, sir.’ She was as calm as he was now.
‘I am only sorry that any breach of … trust, existed between us. Lady Rendlesham has much for which she should answer.’
‘Lady Rendlesham? So it was she who … How very typical of her. Yes, I see now. I too am sorry, Sir Lucius. You have been open and honest with me, and’ – she extended her hand suddenly, and he took it – ‘I must have seemed inconsistent and rude. Forgive me.’
He held the hand firmly, though from choice he would have kissed it. ‘There is nothing to forgive, ma’am, I assure you.’
‘And I have not thanked you properly for my birthday gift.’ Her other hand went to the brooch at her bosom.
‘You wore it.’ He could say nothing more without betraying himself entirely.
There was an awkward silence, but not a silence of emptiness, rather one in which many confused thoughts jumbled and jostled until none could be understood.
‘Will you ride with me tomorrow, Miss Ashling?’ Sir Lucius asked, seeking to lessen the tension with normality. ‘Weather permitting, of course? If we were to meet at the Godmanchesters’ stables at, shall we say ten o’clock?’
‘I … Yes, Sir Lucius, that would be a pleasure.’
‘Then I shall leave you now. Thank you for hearing me, and’ – he smiled, though it was a slightly lopsided smile – ‘happy birthday, Miss Ashling.’
197He bowed and was gone, and Elizabeth took a deep breath, easing her fingers, which were stiff from clutching the back of the chair. She wanted solitude but knew she must return to what was in many ways ‘her’ party. With a sigh, she gathered herself together and went back to the throng.