“Godmama,” she said, “excuse me for interrupting, but I feel the most horrid headache coming on. Would it be possible for me to go home early?” She fixed Alice with an intense look, hoping she got the message.
“Yes, of course,” Alice responded instantly. “You poor dear, you’re looking quite pale. We must leave at once, get you into bed with an eau de cologne compress.”
Lord Tarrant glanced at Lucy. His mouth quirked. “Dear me, yes, that’s the palest flush I’ve seen in a long time.”
Alice’s lips compressed. “Come along, Lucy dear, we will just make our apologies to our hostess and be off. Goodbye, Lord Tarrant, so . . . interesting to have met you.”
They hurried away.
“Do I really look pale?” Lucy whispered.
Alice glanced at her. “No, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Drat him.”
“You wanted to leave early, too?”
She nodded. “Now hush and try to look ill,” she said to Lucy as they approached their hostess, who was also called Lady Charlton. Lucy found it very confusing.
“Almeria, I’m very sorry but—” Alice began.
“So you ought to be!” The other Lady Charlton gave Lucy a scathing look. “I warned you about attempting to entice my son with your . . . your guest.” The way she said guest it might have been dipped in vitriol.
“Gerald asked to be introduced. I could hardly refuse,” Alice said calmly.
“And then they danced together.” Lady Charlton glared at Lucy as if she’d committed the crime of the century. Old bag.
“Yes, because Gerald asked her in front of others. She could hardly refuse that, either,” Alice said. “And now, Almeria, we’re leaving. Miss Bamber has the headache.”
Lady Charlton sniffed.
Lucy tried to look pale and wan. She was impressed with Alice’s cool responses. If anyone had spoken to her like that, she would have snapped back, and probably lost her temper. But Alice had responded so calmly and reasonably, the other Lady Charlton had nowhere to go—you could see the frustration on her face.
Even more impressive was that Alice had defended Lucy. Nobody had ever defended Lucy.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Alice said. “It’s been a delightful party.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” Lucy murmured. She glanced back and saw Lord Thornton holding a glass of ratafia and looking around. She slipped an arm through Alice’s, and they quietly slipped away.
* * *
* * *
Did my nephew upset you in some way?” Alice asked once they’d reached home.
Lucy was embarrassed to explain, but it had to be done. “No, I’m not upset—but oh, Alice, he’s going to be a problem.”
“In what way?”
“I’ve met your nephew before—and not in the best of circumstances.” She told her about their encounter on the Brighton road.
Alice regarded her wide-eyed. “You mean you’re the reason Gerald lost his race?”
Lucy nodded. “Well, it was the goose, really. He’d stopped because of her. I just collected her off the road.” And held him up further, by giving him a piece of her mind as well.
Alice let out a muffled snort. “A goose? Gerald lost his race because of a goose? Oh, he won’t like people knowing that.”
“No, and the way I was dressed, in my old clothes and an apron, and with my hair down and blowing about—I’m sure he thought me some kind of maidservant or farm girl. And the way he spoke to me, ordering me off the road as if he owned it—well, it was so, so lordly, it made him want to cheek him. And so I did.” He’d been furious.
Alice was still chuckling. “A goose. No wonder he didn’t explain. But what were you doing with a goose anyway?”
“She’s the comtesse’s pet goose.”
“Your comtesse has a pet goose?”
Lucy nodded. “Apparently back in France at the height of the Terror, the comte was imprisoned in Paris—she heard later they chopped his head off—and the comtesse was alone in their castle in the country. One night something had stirred up the local peasants, and they marched on the castle carrying sickles and pitchforks and burning brands. The castle geese started hissing and honking like mad, and when she looked out to see what the matter was, she saw the peasants coming for her. She managed to grab her jewels and escape, but her castle was burned to the ground.
“And ever since then she’s kept a pair of geese—Ghislaine and Gaston—to protect and warn her. But Ghislaine is naughty and likes to wander, and she wandered onto the road when your nephew was coming.”
“It was lucky he missed her.”
“He stopped, actually.” Lucy hadn’t expected that. Most lordly types she’d encountered would have driven straight over a goose. But then he’d shouted at her, and still shaken by the close encounter, she’d snapped and shouted back.
She wished now she hadn’t, because he obviously recognized her, even if he didn’t yet realize why.
“Ghislaine and Gaston, what a tale.” Alice sobered. “So you and that goose were the reason poor Gerald lost his precious race. Oh dear. He’s not likely to forget that. Or forgive.”
Lucy nodded. “I know. I’m going to have to avoid him. He already thinks he knows me from somewhere.”
“Yes, I see. It does make things rather awkward.”
“That’s why I wasn’t very polite to him tonight. I tried to give him a disgust of me so he won’t want to have anything to do with me in future.”
“It won’t be easy, seeing he’s my nephew.” Alice glanced at Lucy, her expression faintly embarrassed. “I wasn’t particularly polite to his friend, either.”
“The tall colonel?”
“He’s not a colonel anymore.”
“Is that why you were rude to him?”
“No, of course not. And I wasn’t rude, exactly, just not very encouraging.”
Lucy was perplexed. “But he liked you, I could tell.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to encourage him.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with him? Was he too forward? Coarse? Suggestive?” Men often were, in Lucy’s experience. Especially lordly types. But surely they wouldn’t behave like that to a proper, gentle lady like Lady Charlton, would they?
“No, no, nothing like that. He was a perfect gentleman.” Alice sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”