Something was not right with Lady Brightstone. Her demeanor had been altered for the last few weeks since the night he defended himself against her. She had been distant, quiet, almost demure. But never before had she acted in such a manner as she did now, nor had she ever admitted to being wrong before. About anything. To anyone.
“Shall I fetch the physician?” Lucien asked hesitantly.
His mother touched his forearm. “You opened the door for me to look at myself, Lucien. And I did not like what I saw. I have been petty and sharp and impossible. When your older brother passed…” She shook her head, still unable to talk about the brother that had died before Lucien was born, an unknown boy to Lucien that he was forbidden from ever mentioning. “I thought if I kept everyone far away, I couldn’t hurt anymore. I did not think of who I might hurt instead.”
She patted his sleeve. “If Miss Bexley is who you want, then you should go to her.”
Lucien put his hand over his mother’s, appreciating the touch of affection. “Thank you.” He couldn’t stop the sigh that followed. “But I am afraid it’s far too late.”
15
There were few things in life more enjoyable than friendship. Once Hannah allowed herself to shrug off the overbearing cape of sorrow, she sincerely did have a grand time during the season.
Despite Elizabeth’s romantic notions that love would seek out Hannah once she stopped looking, it was Lucy’s advice that rang truest of all. Hannah put her focus on spending time with the other ladies, donning her finest gowns and dancing when asked without any expectation for what— or whom—the next waltz may bring.
Though Lucien was also at the social events she attended, she ignored him entirely, and even his very presence with Lady Alison did not trouble her a whit. Or so she liked to tell herself. There were many times in the evenings after the candle by her bed had been snuffed, and she was left in the dark with her thoughts, that she relived the passionate moments they’d shared. Those lonely hours were when the ache of missing him was most poignant.
Lucien was a sore spot in her soul that never seemed to heal.
Fortunately, no one saw that part of her she managed to mask so well.
At least, no one but Mary, who continued to maintain the furrow of worry at her brow whenever she studied Hannah too long. Which was why it was extraordinarily strange that on the morning of Lady Gentry’s ball, as Mary was putting Hannah’s hair up, that she would broach the topic of Lucien.
“I have a friend who is in the employ of Lambert Abbey,” she began.
Hannah immediately stiffened, every muscle locking into place with the need to gird herself from the impact of whatever Mary meant to say.
“Evidently, your Lord Brightstone is exceedingly unhappy.” Mary eased a pin into Hannah’s hair.
Hannah tried to push this thought from her mind. “His contentment is not my concern.” A knot of tension formed at the back of her neck. She hated the gossip about him and had heard plenty in the last few weeks regarding not only Lucien but also Lady Alison. Hannah could stand no more.
Mary twisted another lock of hair, securing it back against the others with a pin. “But as it happens, the reason he—”
“Mary, please.” There was a tremble to Hannah’s voice that stilled Mary’s efforts.
“I thought I might have news that could…” Mary’s voice trailed off.
“There is nothing that anyone can say that would explain away the idea of my being used as practice for him.” Hannah lifted her chin, finding solace in her newfound strength to set Lucien aside. “If he is unhappy, he has made his decisions, and I ask you to please stop discussing him.”
Mary lowered her gaze. “Yes, my lady.”
She did not mention him again as the day wore on, nor when she readied Hannah for the ball that evening. But it did not mean that Hannah had stopped thinking of Lucien. The very mention of his name lodged him in her mind like a stubborn stain that could never be fully removed.
Her friends were all in attendance at the evening’s ball, which immediately elevated her mood. But so were Lucien and Lady Alison, which decidedly dropped her mood once more.
“I heard some interesting news about Lord Brightstone today,” Elizabeth began once they were all gathered around.
“Oh, do tell,” Lucy demanded eagerly.
“I don’t care to hear it,” Hannah said as politely as possible.
Amy nudged her. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
Hannah was not. How could she be when the very mention of his name was like a fresh slice to her wounded heart?
“By all means, please proceed.” Hannah waved a hand at them to continue. “I’ll help myself to a bit of lemonade.”
Lady Gentry had something of a sweet tooth, and so it was that the lemonade at all her social functions was some of the best in London.
Hannah’s friends all shared a look.
“Come now,” Hannah protested at their disappointment. “I’m a grown woman and perfectly capable of securing a glass of lemonade on my own.” She winked at Elizabeth. “Perhaps love will find me as I do.”
“I’ll join you,” Jillian said as she gave a subtle nod in Lucy’s direction.
That nod was the first indication something was amiss. Something Hannah was not privy to.
Before she could protest, Jillian curled her hand around the crook of Hannah’s elbow and led her away. “Let’s leave them to their gossip.”
As they made their way through the crowded ballroom, the dancing couples swept by in circles over the center of the dance floor. One pair in particular caught both Hannah and Jillian’s attention as they twirled past. The Duke of Dudley and Lady Alison, both engrossed in their conversation.
Jillian watched them with a little smile pulling at her lips. “It’s such a relief to see those two together.”
“I imagine you’re glad for the reprieve from his company,” Hannah replied.
Since the duke had been spending more time with Lady Alison, he was seldom around Jillian. Without his oppressive person looming over her, Jillian laughed again and shared her wondrously unique ideas and thoughts. It was as though he had blocked the sunlight from her world, and she shone without him once more.
“Even more than that…” Jillian took a glass of lemonade. “It frees up Lord Brightstone for you.”
It was as unexpected as Mary’s comment had been earlier that day. There was something amiss with Hannah’s friends. But what?
“You must come quickly.” Lucy was suddenly at Hannah’s side, grabbing her arm and pulling her.
Hannah did not resist, allowing herself to be dragged from the lemonade table before she could even pour a glass. “What is it?” She asked, alarmed.
Lucy’s hand was like ice. “A cat…”
Hannah was immediately listening. “What of it?”
“I think it fell into the pond outside.” Lucy tugged her toward the terrace. “I saw it through the window. It was perched on the edge as cats do, you know. Then, it just fell in.”
“It just fell in?” Hannah shook her head. “Did it stumble or slip?”
“No, it…” Lucy held her hand upright, then dropped it to the right and made a small splashing sound.