the guests would be arriving after lunch and was, therefore, surprised to see a gentleman standing at the sideboard, helping himself to dishes from the warming pans. He was the only one in the room for it was just gone nine o’clock. The early arrival was wearing riding clothes, so it seemed likely he was neighbor or a guest who had made an early start.
‘Good morning,’ Lucy said politely, approaching the broad back. She stopped abruptly when the tall figure turned, revealing a – by now – all too familiar face. Lucy gaped at the Earl of Hamersley in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’
He gave her a smile, a little wicked, a little smug. ‘Good morning, Miss Landon. What a delightful surprise.’
‘Really,’ she said, not even trying to disguise her disbelief. ‘Never tell me you are a guest of Lord Billingsworth.’
‘I am, actually. I ran into him at his club the day before yesterday and we fell to talking. He suggested I might enjoy Dorset for several days.’
Lucy stared at him. There was no way that Hamersley was a particular friend of Billingsworth. They weren’t even of the same generation. Heavens, they hardly seemed to be of the same species ! Clearly, the earl had some reason for being here and, just as clearly, that something had to do with her.
‘You followed me here.’
He raised an eyebrow, the very picture of hauteur. ‘My dear lady. What are you implying?’
Lucy was unimpressed. ‘You think I have something to do with Lady Libertine and you followed me down here. Do not even try to deny it. That was very… very…’
‘Enterprising?’ Rand suggested, abandoning hauteur.
She narrowed her brown eyes at him. ‘I have nothing to say on the subject, my lord!’
‘Perhaps. But I’m sure you have something to say on the subject of breakfast. From the state of your dress I’m assuming you have been out walking, and walking, I know for a fact, always makes one hungry.’
It was true that she was hungry, very, but breakfast would mean sitting with the earl and Lucy was not at all sure that was a good idea. The idea that he had followed her from London to pursue the conversation she had cut short on Saturday was alarming. Clearly, he meant business. Still, there didn’t seem to be much he could do to make her talk (short of tickling her and she wasn’t about to reveal that weakness) so she collected a plate and selected some food; eggs, ham, mushrooms, and toast. The coffee was hot and smelt delicious. She filled a cup and silently went and sat at the table.
I might as well get used to it , she thought grimly. For I cannot avoid being in his company for four whole days!
Unsurprisingly, he sat opposite and eyed her with interest. ‘So, what do you think of Dorset?’
‘Very pretty.’ She did not elaborate.
‘Did you have a pleasant journey down from London?’
‘Very pleasant.’
There was a small pause. ‘You know,’ he said reflectively, ‘polite conversation only works if two people are making an effort. I am holding up my end of the bargain.’
Lucy tried not to smile. She very much doubted if he new what polite conversation was. ‘You don’t have to talk to me, my lord.’
‘Of course I do. I am a gentleman and gentlemen always have to try and amuse a lady. It’s part of the job requirement.’
Once again, her lips twitched. Her previous – brief – acquaintance with the man had not given her much opportunity to appreciate his unusual outlook. Clearly he did not care very much for polite conversation, preferring honesty instead. It was irresistible. ‘Is being a gentleman a job, then?’
‘My dear girl, you have no idea. A tedious job, at times, but the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages.’
‘I’m sure you are right.’
‘What about you?’ he inquired, spearing a kidney, ‘Do you enjoy your position in life?’
It was an extraordinary question. Nobody had ever asked her anything like that before. And why would they? Life was the way
‘Good morning,’ Lucy said politely, approaching the broad back. She stopped abruptly when the tall figure turned, revealing a – by now – all too familiar face. Lucy gaped at the Earl of Hamersley in disbelief. ‘What are you doing here?’
He gave her a smile, a little wicked, a little smug. ‘Good morning, Miss Landon. What a delightful surprise.’
‘Really,’ she said, not even trying to disguise her disbelief. ‘Never tell me you are a guest of Lord Billingsworth.’
‘I am, actually. I ran into him at his club the day before yesterday and we fell to talking. He suggested I might enjoy Dorset for several days.’
Lucy stared at him. There was no way that Hamersley was a particular friend of Billingsworth. They weren’t even of the same generation. Heavens, they hardly seemed to be of the same species ! Clearly, the earl had some reason for being here and, just as clearly, that something had to do with her.
‘You followed me here.’
He raised an eyebrow, the very picture of hauteur. ‘My dear lady. What are you implying?’
Lucy was unimpressed. ‘You think I have something to do with Lady Libertine and you followed me down here. Do not even try to deny it. That was very… very…’
‘Enterprising?’ Rand suggested, abandoning hauteur.
She narrowed her brown eyes at him. ‘I have nothing to say on the subject, my lord!’
‘Perhaps. But I’m sure you have something to say on the subject of breakfast. From the state of your dress I’m assuming you have been out walking, and walking, I know for a fact, always makes one hungry.’
It was true that she was hungry, very, but breakfast would mean sitting with the earl and Lucy was not at all sure that was a good idea. The idea that he had followed her from London to pursue the conversation she had cut short on Saturday was alarming. Clearly, he meant business. Still, there didn’t seem to be much he could do to make her talk (short of tickling her and she wasn’t about to reveal that weakness) so she collected a plate and selected some food; eggs, ham, mushrooms, and toast. The coffee was hot and smelt delicious. She filled a cup and silently went and sat at the table.
I might as well get used to it , she thought grimly. For I cannot avoid being in his company for four whole days!
Unsurprisingly, he sat opposite and eyed her with interest. ‘So, what do you think of Dorset?’
‘Very pretty.’ She did not elaborate.
‘Did you have a pleasant journey down from London?’
‘Very pleasant.’
There was a small pause. ‘You know,’ he said reflectively, ‘polite conversation only works if two people are making an effort. I am holding up my end of the bargain.’
Lucy tried not to smile. She very much doubted if he new what polite conversation was. ‘You don’t have to talk to me, my lord.’
‘Of course I do. I am a gentleman and gentlemen always have to try and amuse a lady. It’s part of the job requirement.’
Once again, her lips twitched. Her previous – brief – acquaintance with the man had not given her much opportunity to appreciate his unusual outlook. Clearly he did not care very much for polite conversation, preferring honesty instead. It was irresistible. ‘Is being a gentleman a job, then?’
‘My dear girl, you have no idea. A tedious job, at times, but the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages.’
‘I’m sure you are right.’
‘What about you?’ he inquired, spearing a kidney, ‘Do you enjoy your position in life?’
It was an extraordinary question. Nobody had ever asked her anything like that before. And why would they? Life was the way
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