Chapter Fifteen
“Oh, Lucy…”
Lucy tried not to combust as Bernard’s words were whispered in her ear, but honestly, would anyone blame her?
The man was, after all, nuzzling her neck as he drifted kisses down it.
He was pressing her into the sofa, his wide chest pinning her down in a delicious manner.
His hands were on her hips, caressing her through her gown, which was most inconveniently making it impossible for him to touch her bare skin.
What was a lady to do?
“Bernard, we mustn’t—”
“Your brother won’t be back for ages,” came Bernard’s murmur as he delicately kissed her just under her ear.
Lucy shivered. Perhaps so, but she was certain respectable young ladies were not supposed to allow themselves to be ravished on a sofa by their intended before the wedding day.
Not that they had spoken of such details—but they would. When the time was right. She would just have to wait until then and suffer through the continuous ravishing.
It was a hard life.
“I love you, Lucy,” Bernard murmured, lifting his head briefly before pressing a kiss upon her lips.
Lucy eagerly accepted the kiss, accepted his kiss, luxuriated in the knowledge she had never been so happy. This man was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Soon, they would have their own home, where they could enjoy ravishing one another on the sofa whenever they wanted. Until then…
Her breath hitched in her throat as Bernard’s fingers tugged up the hem of her skirts. “Bernard, we can’t—not here!”
“I don’t see anyone else using this drawing room,” came his confident and heady reply.
“Bernard,” Lucy whispered, half in chastisement, half as encouragement.
Well. It wasn’t her fault that he was so attentive, so attractive, so dazzlingly—
The door burst open and Bernard jerked away from her. Lucy desperately tried to ascertain whether or not her hair was adequately pinned as she lurched upright, tugging her hem down and hoping to goodness her cheeks didn’t look pink. If her parents, who were due any time now, even guessed—
Her brother smirked. “Hallo, you two. What are you up to?”
“Reading,” Bernard said quickly.
“Just talking,” Lucy said just as quickly.
Oh, bother. They really should have agreed on some sort of explanation for all this.
Percy looked from one of them to the other, a smile on his face. “Oh, really?”
“Talking about what we’d just read,” Lucy said swiftly, giving her brother a brief smile before turning to Bernard and widening her eyes just slightly as she said, “Wordsworth again, wasn’t it, Mr. Dixon?”
“Oh, you don’t have to call him that around me, I know you call him ‘Bernard,’” said Percy with a snort as he stepped fully into the room and dropped onto an armchair. “And why not? Dixon here has become almost like a brother to us, hasn’t he? Truly become a part of the family.”
Lucy did not say anything. No, absolutely not like a brother to me…
“I suppose our parents will be back any moment now,” her brother continued as Bernard attempted to look interested and not cross his legs over—
Lucy stifled a giggle. Oh, dear.
“Their letter was very clear that they were returning today,” Percy said with a sigh. “Goodness knows why. I’m not even sure why Mama and Papa and all the uncles and aunts had to meet at Stanphrey Lacey, anyway.”
Ah, an opportunity for diversion. Excellent. “You never know,” Lucy said seriously, picking up the abandoned embroidery that had been substituted for the far more interesting Bernard Dixon. “Perhaps Papa is considering giving up his title.”
As she expected, her brother’s face drained of all color. “Do not even jest about that!”
“‘Give up the title’?” Bernard sounded confused—as well he might. “But—I mean, an earl cannot just give up his title.”
“Our Uncle William gave up his,” Lucy said, humming at her brother innocently. “Our cousin Thomas became Duke of Cothrom, oh, early last year?”
“Lucy, do not even put it into Papa’s head,” Percy warned. “Do not even speak of it!”
Lucy ignored him. “And Uncle John decided to stop being the Marquess of Aylesbury, oh, half a year ago? It truly cannot be longer than six months ago, for Cousin Samuel took on the title and was wed that same month, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Papa has seen how much more relaxing it is for his brothers, no longer having to worry about managing the estates and attending Parliament—”
“Lucy!” With that smug smile wiped off his face as he leaned forward, her brother did truly look concerned now, which was a delightful thing to see. After all, what were sisters for? “Do not even consider it. Papa is not about to give up being the Earl of Lindow.”
“And when you do enter Parliament,” Lucy said smoothly, stifling a giggle as she stabbed her embroidery with her needle, “please consider supporting me in the cessation of prisoner transportation, won’t you? Papa has been awfully stubborn about it, and when you are the Earl of Lindow—”
“Handing out my title already, Lucy?” came an amused voice from the doorway. “I don’t know, I go away for five minutes and you’re already passing out the spoils.”
Lucy’s spirits leapt as she saw her parents in the doorway. “You’re home!”
“So it would seem,” said the earl gruffly as Lucy abandoned her embroidery once again and launched herself into his arms.
“Did you miss us, then?” asked her mother as she welcomed her daughter’s embrace.
Perhaps it was a mite too honest to say brightly, “Not really!”
But then, as Lucy watched her brother welcome their parents’ home and relate the lie that he had been watching his sister like a hawk, it had been a rather special few days.
She and Bernard had declared their love for each other. He had revealed his secret, that he was no criminal at all but instead a man who had risked his life for his country. Bernard had shared parts of his past with her she would treasure always for the bravery he’d needed to speak them.
And we are to be married.
Oh, the words had not been said, at least he had not said them, but they did not need to be. Lucy smiled as Bernard politely bowed to her parents, asking them about their journey and declaring that long journeys in this heat really were awful.
He was hers. And she was his. And that was all there was to it.
And now that she came to think of it…
“So, what have we missed?” the Countess of Lindow asked as she settled herself on an armchair and fanned herself with her hand. “Goodness, it’s hot. Percy, ring the bell for Cawthorne, won’t you? I’m in desperate need of lemonade.”
“Right you are, Mama,” Percy said promptly, stepping up and ringing the bell.
“Yes, your mother has put down some odds on the events we have missed,” said their father with a twinkle in his eyes as he sat beside his wife, Lucy returning to her seat beside Bernard and carefully not sitting as close as she would have liked to.
“Two to one that an invitation came for us from someone we do not like—”
“Mama wins.” Lucy grinned. “The Quintrells are delighted to expect your presence at a picnic next Thursday.”
The earl groaned. “Three to one that Lady Romeril castigates someone in public and it’s written about in the newspapers—”
“Oh, now that’s a hard one,” Percy said lightly as he threw himself down back into his armchair. “Yes, she has castigated someone, but no, it’s not reached the newspapers.”
“Who was it?” the countess asked eagerly, pulling out a notebook and pencil from Lucy did not see where, and opening it up.
Lucy giggled as Percy sighed. “Me.”
Their father stiffened. “Percy Chance!”
“It was only a slight mark on my waistcoat. I hadn’t noticed it and most of the world wouldn’t,” he protested swiftly. “You should have seen the way she shouted at me…”
Lucy smiled as the conversation continued on around them, the warm family atmosphere she had always known and loved somehow magnified by having Bernard here beside her.
She greatly wished to lean over and take his hand, but even she knew that would be most inopportune. No, she would have to wait for just the right moment…
The door opened and Cawthorne stepped in. “You rang, Lady Lindow?”
“Lemonade, please,” said Lady Lindow eagerly. “And—”
“No. No, not lemonade.” Lucy spoke half without realizing, the idea only just occurring to her. “Champagne, please.”
Of course. Why not now? Why wait for the moment if she could create it? Why not share with her family, at least, the joy she and Bernard had found?
Dear Lord, not all of it—that would cause a scandal and she would never be able to look her father in the eye.
But enough. Enough for them to know a wedding was soon on its way.
“‘Champagne’?” Their butler raised an eyebrow.
“Little early for that, isn’t it?” Percy asked cheerfully. “But well, I’m never going to turn down a drink from Papa’s cellars; they’re always marvelous.”
“Lucy, it’s only two o’clock,” protested her mother, but not very strongly.
Lucy chuckled. Her mother had always had a taste for champagne. “Thank you, Cawthorne.”
The butler bowed, evidently confused as to why the typical afternoon fare for the family had changed, but stepping out of the room immediately to procure said beverage.
“You know, I’ll allow it this time,” the Earl of Lindow said mildly, stretching his arms out above his head with a wistful sigh. “But I usually like to save the bubbles for special occasions, and I am not sure returning from Stanphrey Lacey quite merits it.”
His wife took his hand. “Well, not quite, but there is a bit of family news.”
“Not now, Dodo,” the earl said quietly. “Not now.”
That should have been enough to pique Lucy’s interest—after all, that could only mean there was family news of the most exciting kind.
But she could not think about that, not now. Not now that she had decided to make the announcement that would radically change her life, and in the best way possible.
Bernard was looking at her curiously, his head tilted to the side. “Why the champagne?”
Lucy’s knee bounced. “You’ll see.”