“Forgive me for interrupting,” he now said, addressing both gentlemen, “but there is a matter of some importance that I would like to discuss with you, Papa. I do apologize, Uncle. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Henry replied. “I’m feeling rather tired myself. It’s been a long day.”
“Why don’t you go ahead, William? Prepare a couple of drinks for us, and I’ll be along in a few minutes.” The stern look in Bryce’s eyes told William that no matter the subject he wished to discuss, it would be quite rude of them both to depart so hastily when Bryce and Henry had been right in the middle of a conversation. William knew that his father was right, of course, so nodding his head in agreement, he slipped quietly out of the door, determined to find his favorite bottle of cognac.
It was a good ten minutes before the door to William’s study finally opened and Bryce entered, his broad frame blocking out the hallway that lay beyond. Acknowledging his son’s presence, he stepped inside the sanctuary and closed the door smoothly behind him. He stood there for a moment as if pondering something then made his way toward one of the deep leather armchairs, took a seat across from William, and drew one of his favorite cigars from his jacket pocket. “It’s been a while since we’ve sat like this.”
Leaning back in his own seat, the leather squeaking, William raised his glass to his father before taking a sip. “It truly has,” he replied a moment later then paused as if contemplating what to say next. “I’m having a difficult time determining whether my marriage is destined to be a disaster.”
Bryce, his large frame leaning toward the candle on the table in order to light his cigar, stilled momentarily at his son’s declaration. Returning to his task until it was completed, he then leaned back, settled himself comfortably in the armchair, and took a deep puff. “Why do you say that?”
William practically had to fight not to roll his eyes in response to such a question. “Why indeed? Because she seems to be completely wrong for me.”
“Oh? And you’ve decided that after a mere week, have you? A bit soon, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think it’s at all too soon. I know the sort of woman I would have been happy with. Lady Annabelle was that sort of woman. Lucy…” William raked his hands through his hair in open frustration.
“You may think that you made a mistake by marrying her, William, but the truth of the matter is that you didn’t have a choice—not after such a public display of affection.”
“Something I should have prevented! I never should have allowed her to take such liberties.”
“Perhaps not,” Bryce agreed. “Still, I think you’re being dishonest with yourself in one regard.”
William hurled a dangerous scowl in his father’s direction.
“I think Lady Annabelle would have bored you to tears. She’s too sedate, too proper, too ordinary, the exact sort of woman you’ve always claimed you wished to avoid. You need a bit more of a challenge and adventure, William—someone to match you as an equal. And I dare say that your wife shows great promise as far as that is concerned.”
William stared at his father in disbelief. “She’s a charlatan, Papa. When she speaks, I have no idea if the words leaving those pretty lips of hers are a lie. A marriage ought to be based on trust, respect, and loyalty, yet I cannot trust her or respect her, for she’s given me no cause to do so, and as far as loyalty goes…she may be loyal, but if so, then her loyalty doesn’t lie with me. If you ask my opinion, the woman is up to no good.”
Bryce didn’t bother to stop himself from grinning. He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip before saying, “The Summersby women generally are, you know. Consider your sister and your sister-in-law, Mary—strong women, both of them, but I dare say they gave their husbands a hard time on their way to the happily ever after that they now share. If I were you, I wouldn’t give up on Lucy too quickly. She may surprise you.”
“Ha! You are certainly correct in that regard. Indeed, it does appear as though she’s full of surprises, doesn’t it?” The bitterness in William’s voice was almost palpable. “That aside, I’m more concerned with who she might turn out to be. Not only did Lucy make it clear she had a reason for trapping me into this marriage, but she herself actually hoped to eventually escape. When I told her that lack of consummation was most assuredly not grounds for an annulment, she actually seemed quite desperate, however offensive that might have been to me.” Bryce raised a mocking eyebrow, which William chose to ignore. “However, that is the reason why I’ve asked you here. I need to know whom it is that I’m married to and if she poses a potential threat to our family. What do we really know about her?”
Bryce frowned. “Not a great deal, I suppose. After all, she’s been secluded in the country for all of these years.”
“And you don’t think that’s strange?”
Bryce shrugged. “Consider your sister. Few had ever set eyes on her before she showed up in London a couple of years ago to claim the most eligible bachelor on the market. I’m sure a lot of young ladies must have frowned at that.” He got up and walked across to the sideboard. “Another glass of cognac?”
William nodded, rose, and strode across to his father, offering him his empty glass for a refill. “Mary made a similar point, and in light of the fact that Lucy and I are married…forever…I do feel as if I ought to give her the chance to prove herself. In fact, it was Lucy’s suggestion that we ought to try and start over—get to know each other a bit better and so on.”
Bryce nodded as he proceeded to fill their glasses. “I think that’s an excellent idea, William.” He handed William his glass. “Did you consider asking Lucy directly about her motivation for seeking you out? It could save you a lot of time and trouble, you know.”
“Of course I have, Papa, but she and I have scarcely spoken since our wedding night.” He saw the look of surprise on his father’s face and, having no desire to offer any further explanation, hurried on with, “Whenever we happen upon each other, it always seems awkward and tense. Eventually one of us makes an excuse to hurry off and hide. It’s really quite awful.”
“I see,” Bryce muttered, returning to his armchair. “I can’t say I’m not surprised by this new revelation, for I rather thought that whatever attraction you might have for each other would help resolve your differences. You are attracted to her, are you not?”
William groaned. He’d tried as best he could to avoid the subject, but his father was clearly determined to address the issue. “It would be odd if I weren’t. One cannot deny her beauty, but, before you say anything else on the matter, you and I both know that beauty means nothing if the woman reveals herself to be a snake. I merely wish to determine whether or not she is.”
Bryce nodded. “Quite right. I’ll send a letter to Percy first thing in the morning—see if we can’t set your mind at ease.”
Including the first secretary of the Foreign Office in their investigation did seem like a good idea. “Thank you,” William said as he leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his knees. “I especially want to know of her heritage. Who were her parents? Do you know?”
“I’ve no idea,” Bryce admitted.
“For all we may discover, she’s merely a servant’s by-blow, hoping to live out the remainder of her days in a lap of luxury.”
“You’re speaking out of anger now, William. You know as well as I that a woman like Lady Ridgewood would never have sanctioned the marriage if her ward were of inferior birth. What you’ve just suggested is an insult to both ladies.”
“Forgive me,” William said as he frowned. He hesitated a moment before saying, “I don’t suppose you’d want to have a little chat with Lady Ridgewood…see if you can unearth anything?”
Bryce automatically arched an eyebrow. He might be old, but he wasn’t too old to recognize a beautiful woman when he saw one, even if she was past her prime. And though the memory of Penelope still made his heart ache, he’d also begun to acknowledge that he wasn’t quite dead yet. It had been twelve years, and now that all of his children had flown from the nest, he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind a bit of companionship from time to time. “I’d be happy to, though I doubt she’ll say anything to implicate her charge.”
“Probably not,” William agreed, “but it’s still worth a try.”
Bryce snuffed the remainder of his cigar in a nearby ashtray. “In the meantime, I do recommend that you give Lucy a chance. She’s a pleasant enough girl, William, and intelligent to boot. You could certainly do a hell of a lot worse.”
Reassuring words indeed.
CHAPTER NINE
Having said goodnight to his father, William made his way upstairs to bed, taking the steps two at a time as he went. He needed the reprieve that sleep offered, an escape from the troubling thoughts that were presently cramming his brain to such a degree that he felt a sharp headache coming on.
Reaching the top of the landing, his eyes immediately found Lucy’s door, only to discover that there was a soft, flickering glow visible beneath it. He cursed under his breath. She must have fallen asleep with the light still burning. Foolish woman.
Tipping the door handle, he quietly eased the door open and peered inside, his eyes settling on the massive, four-poster bed that Lucy occupied. He could barely make out her figure in the dim lighting, though a sharp movement beneath the covers made him pause. “Lucy?” Another sharp movement responded, coupled with a soft groan.
Realizing that she must be asleep and probably in the middle of a dream, William closed the door carefully behind him and stepped forward, his path a straight line leading toward the oil lamp that stood on Lucy’s nightstand. But the closer he came to her bed, the more agitated she became. He could see her head now, occasionally tossing from side to side as she mumbled a succession of incoherent words. She slowly quieted, and William continued on his way, moving gradually closer, his feet padding softly against the plush carpet. He’d almost reached her bedside when she suddenly muttered a loud, “No!” Her agitation swiftly increased. “No, Mama…no!”
“Lucy?” William voiced her name again in the hopes of urging her back to a more blissful slumber.
She didn’t respond but cried out instead, “Mama!”
This was not the reason he’d come—to soothe away the nightmares of his wife. Their relationship was far too strained for such a task. But as he looked at her now, his face set in a mask of stone, he unwillingly felt his heart stir at the sight of the troubled look upon her face.
Expelling a low sigh of surrender that was tinged by aggravation, he did what came naturally. He slumped down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping a little under his weight, and gently brushed his fingers over the crown of her head. “Lucy,” he whispered. “Lucy, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”