Page 16 of A Scoundrel All the Way
She’dbriefly mentioned having to wear glasses, but he hadn’t seen her wear them until now.Perhapsshe wore them for reading or because she’d offered to cook and needed to see more clearly.Hethought she looked sweet with the spectacles perched on her nose.Likea little girl who was trying to be studious.GoodLord, if that was the reason why she’d been virtually ignored bySocietygentlemen, they were a bunch of fools.
“So, if painting and doing needlepoint are not to your liking, which of your skills do you favor?”Thequestion seemed innocuous enough, but she scrunched her nose and glanced down.
“Iapologize ifIinsulted you.Itwas not my intention.Whatdo you enjoy?”
Shesmiled at the fox, who, in turn, looked at her curiously. “Ihave a weakness for animals, likeAshe.Myfather complains thatIhave turned the gardener’s shed into an animal sanctuary, and there is no more space for the gardening tools.EventhoughIrecently moved to a modest townhouse, he’s allowed me to keep my animals there—for the time being.I’vestudied all the veterinary booksIcan find, and ifI’mnot reading,Ican generally be found helping a stray mama cat deliver its kittens…”
Asmile creased his face. “Orrescuing a fox from a foxhunt,” he added.Shehad shown no fear at the prospect of lifting a strange, wild animal from its cage.Thewoman’s gumption fascinated him.
“Yes.”
“Yousay your father complains?”
“Heis ready to see me married…really married.Mymother, as well.”Shelooked away.
“Reallymarried?Whatdo you—Ah,Isee…Youdon’t have to answer that question.”HerememberedLatham,Slice, andNelsontelling him the proxy marriage had never been consummated.Howcould he have been so thoughtless?
Herbrown eyes darkened with pain. “Yes, that.Iam a widow…technically,Isuppose.”Shefixed her gaze on him. “Areyou telling me you’ve never heard aboutUnluckyLucy?”
Hecertainly did not want to hurt her feelings even further by telling her he had. “I’vebeen working with the government and only recently returned fromFrance.Imay have heard the nickname, butIam afraidI’munsure of its connection to your widow status.”Evenso, he was curious to hear what she would say about her marriage.Atleast she wasn’t a debutante.Thenagain,Lucycould only have had her come out a few short years ago, so he suspected she would have been the only debutante that would have interested him.Hadhe been around and searching for a wife.Whichhe wasn’t. “Don’tfeel you need to share anything uncomfortable.Iwas merely trying to get to know you better since we appear to be here for a little while.”
Shestood and hobbled to the fireplace, where she stooped and gaveAshea scratch behind his ears.Thefox emitted a purring sound, much like a cat. “I’msorry.Thewhole marriage thing was at my father’s and mother’s insistence.Iwas married by proxy.Andto say it didn’t work out well would be a gross understatement.Itturns out that my intended decided he needed to travel toIndiajust before the wedding and convinced my father to marry us by proxy.Hewas discovered stealing valuable jewels from a wealthyBritishofficer’s family and met his demise at the end of a pistol.Incase you’re wondering,Ididn’t know my husband well.Andapparently, neither did my father.TheTonTattlerwasted little time spreading my woeful tale.”
Herdescription of what had happened made him feel horrible for her and angry that she’d had to go through that.Whenhe had initially heard the story, he had not yet metLucy.Buthaving met her and knowing how lovely and sweet and intelligent she was, his heart wrenched at her pain. “I’msorry that happened to you,” he finally said, genuinely meaning it.Rowanstood. “Doyou suppose we should see what we can find in the kitchen?”
Shebrightened. “Iapologize if my tone came across as unenthusiastic.I’vegrown a little weary of the bad luck that seems to follow me.Irather think it’s timeIlet go of that.It’sall in the past, after all.Shesmiled. “ButIwould very much like to be of assistance and find out how a soldier became such a fine cook.”
Hegrinned as he offered her his arm and helpedLucyto the kitchen.
Rowanwanted to know more about her.Excepthe was unsure how to ask, having already upset her once.Hopingto prompt conversation, he shared more about himself. “Ilived inFrancefor the last ten years of my military career.Haveyou ever been there?”
“No.I’venever seenFrance, although my parents went there on their wedding trip.I’vealways wanted to go.”
“Nowthat things have settled down a little more, perhaps that would be possible in your future,” he offered.
“Yes, perhaps.”Shegave him a shy smile, then reached for a pot hanging among other pots and pans above a cabinet in the center of the kitchen.
“Yougrab that like it’s second nature to you,” he teased.
Shelaughed, saying, “Mymother would be horrified.Itseems my whole adolescence was spent building up for my eventual come-out, one thatIspoiled with too much gaiety.”
“Toomuch gaiety?Howcould that be?” he asked nonchalantly, taking out the bread he had found in the gatekeeper’s kitchen and slicing it.
Shelooked at him in the morning light as if she were trying to take her measure of him. “Onmy first ball,Idrank a bit too much champagne, and with all the twirling and dancing,Igot sick and cast up my accounts onto the ballroom floor.ShouldImention it was theDukeofClarence’sball?”Shegiggled.
Heburst into laughter. “I’msorry.Idon’t mean to add to your discomfort, but that’s one of the funniest storiesI’veheard in a while.”Eventhough he’d heard the story, her straightforward, wry recounting of it and her giggle was refreshing.Takingthe butter crock, he handed the bread and the butter to her. “Doyou want to have your toast with melted butter toasted onto it or dry toast to butter afterward?”
Shetook the bread and butter and began to lay out the bread onto the pan. “I’venever put butter on bread and then toasted it.Let’stry that.”
“Bolddecision,” he said with a wink.
“Didyou mean what you said?Thatmy story was funny?” she asked, smearing the butter on each slice of bread.
“Idid,” he said. “I’msure the only thing funnier—maybe not for you at the time—would have been if someone fell into it.”
“Oh, we are wicked.”Shegiggled again. “Someonedid.TheWidowDevilleslipped in it and ruined her red dress.Shehad it in for me after that.
“Ihave heard of her,” he said. “She’son my list of women to avoid.”
