it was and one accepted it, especially if one had a life as a much pitied, quietly despised spinster stretching ahead. In the normal course of events she might have been shuffled between Judith and Phoebe’s house to help care for their offspring and, of course, she would be summoned back to her Mama’s bedside when the lady fell ill in old age. What else did a spinster do?
Did she enjoy her position in life?
‘No,’ she said, having considered the question at length, ‘not in the least.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘I am four and twenty years of age, my lord, and unmarried. Society considers me a failure.’
‘And do you agree?’
She thought about that, as well. Did she agree? Perhaps, when she’d had three or four unsuccessful Seasons behind her, although her mother’s haranguing had been offset by her father’s indifference to her lack of suitors. He had not cared if his eldest child married or not. In fact, Lucy rather thought that he had been pleased to have her remain unattached.
Even so, it was hard not to believe one was a failure when she had not fulfilled her duties, something that had been brought home even more when Judith had become engaged. Her sister, three years younger, had done what she had not been able to do and her mother had never failed to remind her of the fact.
‘I don’t think I am,’ she said slowly, ‘I think I am better than that.’
Hamersley looked at her curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that I resent the fact that I am defined by who I marry. Not who I am.’ She shot a quick look at the earl. ‘I suppose you think that ridiculous?’
‘Why should I? I happen to agree.’
She sighed. ‘Then you must be one of the few men in London who does.’
‘What about Mr. Beaufort?’ he inquired innocently. ‘Does he agree?’
Lucy gave him an exasperated look. ‘That was not very subtle. If you wish to know about my relationship with Thomas, you merely have to ask.’
‘I asked the other day and you rather told me to go away.’
Not in so many words she hadn’t, but it was true, just the same. ‘Thomas used to be my father’s secretary. Now, as you know, he is editor of the London Times , but we have remained friends.’
‘I see.’ He fell silent, chewing meditatively. Lucy waited. She knew there would be more to come and sure enough, ‘He claims not to know the identity of this Lady Libertine who writes for his paper.’
‘Is that so hard to believe?’
‘It seems singularly irresponsible to me. How can he not know who he employs?’
Lucy gave an offhand shrug. ‘Perhaps he is merely happy to have his circulation rise so quickly. If I were the editor of a newspaper, I would be delighted with the increase.’
He looked at her consideringly. ‘Have you had anything written about you?’
‘How can I say? The columnist does not use names.’
‘Oh come now! Nobody is ever left in any doubt as to the identity of those mentioned.’
Lucy tilted her head thoughtfully. ‘So you think the author has talent?’
‘I think the author should be soundly whipped!’
‘Oh dear! But then, you have been very popular in their column of late so I suppose your attitude is understandable.’ The smoldering look on the earl’s face suggested it might be time to drop the subject. If he would allow it to be dropped. Lady Libertine was the reason he was here, after all. A small imp of mischief prompted her to add, ‘I read Friday’s column with interest.’
He gave her a look. ‘You and the rest of London, I’m sure. Thank God Gatton was out of town.’
‘I was just wondering…,’ Lucy trailed off. She would not have dreamed of asking him the question that was now on the tip of her tongue thirty minutes before, but, against all odds, they actually seemed to be having a conversation and not the kind of conversation that left her feeling as if nothing at all had been said.
‘Well? What were you wondering?’
‘Well, if you must know, I was wondering
Did she enjoy her position in life?
‘No,’ she said, having considered the question at length, ‘not in the least.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘I am four and twenty years of age, my lord, and unmarried. Society considers me a failure.’
‘And do you agree?’
She thought about that, as well. Did she agree? Perhaps, when she’d had three or four unsuccessful Seasons behind her, although her mother’s haranguing had been offset by her father’s indifference to her lack of suitors. He had not cared if his eldest child married or not. In fact, Lucy rather thought that he had been pleased to have her remain unattached.
Even so, it was hard not to believe one was a failure when she had not fulfilled her duties, something that had been brought home even more when Judith had become engaged. Her sister, three years younger, had done what she had not been able to do and her mother had never failed to remind her of the fact.
‘I don’t think I am,’ she said slowly, ‘I think I am better than that.’
Hamersley looked at her curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that I resent the fact that I am defined by who I marry. Not who I am.’ She shot a quick look at the earl. ‘I suppose you think that ridiculous?’
‘Why should I? I happen to agree.’
She sighed. ‘Then you must be one of the few men in London who does.’
‘What about Mr. Beaufort?’ he inquired innocently. ‘Does he agree?’
Lucy gave him an exasperated look. ‘That was not very subtle. If you wish to know about my relationship with Thomas, you merely have to ask.’
‘I asked the other day and you rather told me to go away.’
Not in so many words she hadn’t, but it was true, just the same. ‘Thomas used to be my father’s secretary. Now, as you know, he is editor of the London Times , but we have remained friends.’
‘I see.’ He fell silent, chewing meditatively. Lucy waited. She knew there would be more to come and sure enough, ‘He claims not to know the identity of this Lady Libertine who writes for his paper.’
‘Is that so hard to believe?’
‘It seems singularly irresponsible to me. How can he not know who he employs?’
Lucy gave an offhand shrug. ‘Perhaps he is merely happy to have his circulation rise so quickly. If I were the editor of a newspaper, I would be delighted with the increase.’
He looked at her consideringly. ‘Have you had anything written about you?’
‘How can I say? The columnist does not use names.’
‘Oh come now! Nobody is ever left in any doubt as to the identity of those mentioned.’
Lucy tilted her head thoughtfully. ‘So you think the author has talent?’
‘I think the author should be soundly whipped!’
‘Oh dear! But then, you have been very popular in their column of late so I suppose your attitude is understandable.’ The smoldering look on the earl’s face suggested it might be time to drop the subject. If he would allow it to be dropped. Lady Libertine was the reason he was here, after all. A small imp of mischief prompted her to add, ‘I read Friday’s column with interest.’
He gave her a look. ‘You and the rest of London, I’m sure. Thank God Gatton was out of town.’
‘I was just wondering…,’ Lucy trailed off. She would not have dreamed of asking him the question that was now on the tip of her tongue thirty minutes before, but, against all odds, they actually seemed to be having a conversation and not the kind of conversation that left her feeling as if nothing at all had been said.
‘Well? What were you wondering?’
‘Well, if you must know, I was wondering
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