An Unwilling Conquest Part 70

"Circ.u.mstances," he began, his voice low, 'have changed. " He raised his head and his eyes met hers. His brows rose, faintly challenging.

"Haven't they?" Lucinda stared into his eyes and said nothing at all; she wasn't about to gainsay him. But had things truly changed? She was no longer so sure of that.

Heather came skipping down the stairs, followed, more circ.u.mspectly, by Em.

Amid the bustle of finding cloaks and gloves, Lucinda had no further chance to question Harry's new tack. The short trip to Mickleham House in Berkeley Square was filled with Heather's bright prattle and Em's reminiscences.

Lucinda remained silent; Harry sat in the shadows opposite, equally quiet.

The ordeal of the crowded stairway left no opportunity for private converse.

Lucinda smiled and nodded to those about them, aware of the curious glances thrown their escort. For his part, Harry remained impa.s.sively urbane but as they neared their host and hostess, he bent his head to murmur, very softly, in her ear,

"I'll take the supper waltz--and I'll escort you into supper."

Her lips setting, Lucinda shot him a speaking glance. Take the supper waltz, indeed! She inwardly humphed, then turned to greet Lady Mickleham.

As Harry had foretold, her ladyship's rooms were full to overflowing.

"This is ridiculous," Lucinda muttered as they. forged a path towards one side of the ballroom, hoping to find a chaise for Em.

"It's always this bad at the end of the Season," Em returned.

"As if building to a frenzy before summer sends everyone home to the country."

Lucinda stifled a sigh ~as thoughts of the country--the grotto by the Lester Hall lake, the peace and serenity of Lestershall Manor--returned to her.

"Well--there's only a few weeks left to go," put in Heather.

"So I suppose we should make the most of them." She glanced at Lucinda.

"Have you decided where we'll spend the summer?"

Lucinda blinked.

"Ah..."

"I dare say your stepmother feels such decisions are a trifle premature,"

Harry drawled.

Heather's lips formed an innocent

"O'--she seemed perfectly content to accept the uninformative statement.

Lucinda let out a slow breath.

Em found a place on a chaise with Lady Sherringbourne; the two ladies promptly fell to exchanging revelations on the alliances forged that year.

Lucinda turned--to find herself all but engulfed by her court, who, as she was rapidly informed, had been awaiting her reappearance with hated breath.

"A whole week you've been away, m'dear. Quite desolate, we've been."

Mr Amberly smiled benignly.

"Not that I can't understand it," Mr Satterly remarked. "The crushes are becoming far too real for my liking.

Drive anyone away. " HIS gaze rose to Harry's face, his expression utterly bland.

"Don't you think so, Lester?"

"Indeed," Harry replied, casting a steely glance about them. With him on one side and Ruthven, equally large, on the other, Lucinda was at least a.s.sured of s.p.a.ce enough to breathe. The rest of her court gathered before them, creating an enclosure of relative sanity for which, he was sure, they were all rendering silent thanks. "And where did you go to recoup, my dear Mrs Babbacombe? The country or the seaside?"

It was, predictably, Lord Ruthven who voiced the inevitable question.

He smiled encouragingly down at Lucinda; she sensed the subtle teasing behind his smile. "The country," she vouchsafed. Then, prompted by some inner devil, released, she knew, by the repressive presence on her left, she added,

"My stepdaughter and I accompanied Lady Hallows on a visit to Lester Hall."

Ruthven blinked his eyes wide.

"Lester Hall?" Slowly, he lifted his gaze to Harry's face. Entirely straight faced, his lordship raised his brows.

"Noticed you were absent from town this week, Harry. Took some time from the frantic whirl to recuperate?"

"Naturally," Harry drawled, clinging to his usual imperturbability, "I escorted my aunt and her guests on their visit."

"Oh, naturally," Ruthven agreed. He turned to Lucinda.

"Did Harry show you the grotto by the lake?"

Lucinda regarded his lordship with as bland an expression as she could manage.

"Indeed--and the folly on the hill. The views were quite lovely."

"The views?" Lord Ruthyen looked stunned.

"Ah, yes.

The views. "

Harry ground his teeth but was too wise to react--at least not verbally. But his glance promised retribution-only Ruthven, one of his oldest friends~ was prepared to ignore it.

To Lucind. a's relief, his lordship's teasing, although in no way openly indelicate, was cut short by the musicians.

It took a moment or two before it became clear that Lady Mickleham had decided to open her ball with a waltz.

The realisation brought the usual clamour of offers.

Lucinda smiled graciously--and hesitated. The room was very crowded, the dance floor would be worse. In cotillion or quadrille, with sets and steps fixed, demanding a certain s.p.a.ce, there was little chance of unexpected intimacy. But the waltz? In such cramped conditions? The thought brought in its wake a certainty that her circ.u.mstances had indeed changed. She did not wish to waltz close with anyone but Harry. Her senses reached for him; he was standing, very stiff, intensely contained, beside her.

Harry saw her glance up, unconscious appeal in her eyes. His reaction was'

immediate and quite impossible to restrain. His hand closed over hers; he lifted it to place her fingers on his sleeve.

"My waltz, I believe, my dear."