The Trouble With Being Wicked (39 page)

Lucy’s spine steeled almost imperceptibly as he entered the breakfast room. The sideboard steamed with eggs and toast, but he paid it no mind. He stopped before the table to face her, and to block any possibility of escape.

She tipped a heap of sugar lumps into her tea. After swirling her spoon, she rested it against the saucer and met his eyes with a level gaze. “Good morning, Trestin.”

He didn’t want to admire her poise. It provoked him, actually, because she couldn’t really mean to sit there and regard him as if he’d done the offending.

He motioned for the single footman to leave. When the door closed soundlessly, Ash curled his hand around the upper rung of a chair. He was afraid that if he didn’t, he might be tempted to wrap his palm around something similarly strangle-able. “What have you to say for yourself?”

She bit into a piece of toast and took her time swallowing. After dusting her fingertips, she replied, “I trust Lord Montborne gave you a fair accounting and you’ve no need of more detail from me…” She raised one eyebrow, daring him to command her to finish.

Good God, he certainly didn’t need to hear more detail. He squeezed the wooden rung, steadying his voice. “I’ve heard enough to know you behaved shamefully. You’ve done everything, it seems, to make marrying you off as difficult as possible.”

A satisfied smile turned her lips. Her gaze dropped to the nibbled-on toast on her plate.

Her smugness shocked him. Why?
Why?
Did she hate him? Had he failed her so thoroughly that she’d come to revile him? Why else would she laugh in his presence, so that it felt like she’d jabbed him in the stomach with a rusty blade?

“Very well,” he said, determined not to rant at her, for he could think of nothing worse than her leaving altogether. “You don’t wish to marry. What I can’t
comprehend is why you behaved so abominably toward my friend. What did Montborne do to be drawn into your scheme?”

She blinked as if she hadn’t expected him to ask that. “Would you prefer I’d given myself to a stranger?”

“Good God, Lucy. Are you trying to kill me?” He was nearly yelling but his voice sounded strained. His fist shook the chair rung until it creaked in protest.

She rose from her seat. Her hands splayed across the white lace tablecloth. “It had nothing to do with you!”

Her words reminded him of his argument with Montborne. The marquis had been sure Lucy’s odd behavior was due to Ash’s infatuation with a courtesan. Now Lucy was fairly shouting that it hadn’t. Relief coursed through him. If he could be absolved of even one mistake, his guilt would ease immensely.

“I thought you’d understand,” she said, calmer this time. She straightened. “Not in Devon. Not even when we first arrived. But after you started sneaking out to see Celeste—”

“Wh—?” he started, but she cut him off with a swipe of her hand.

“I tried, Trestin. I truly tried to want the future you envision for me. A pious man who would dote on our children and never ask too much of me in bed. But you couldn’t abide that for
yourself, could you? Once you discovered what it feels like to love passionately, you could never marry a proper miss simply to conform to what is expected of you. Why, then, would you ask it of me?”

“My situation with Miss Gray has nothing to do with your disgraceful behavior.”

She bristled. “You
would
think that, wouldn’t you? You’re so accustomed to dismissing my feelings, it hasn’t even occurred to you that our situations might be similar.”

“No, it hasn’t.” Because they couldn’t be. “Montborne is an upstanding man. One willing to tell the truth even when it might cost our friendship. If the situations are similar, it’s because what you did to him is little better than what she did to me. Playing on his feelings, for what? To punish me for failing you?”

She frowned. “
I
begged Celeste to teach me how to seduce him. I’m the one who entranced him. And I’m the one who rejected his suit. What has any of that to do with
you
?”

Was it his fault, or wasn’t it? This argument was driving him mad. “If I’d have found a husband for you sooner, none of this would have happened.”

She shook her head. “Haven’t you realized it yet? I’m in love with him. I always have been.”

Ash stared down at the table and pressed his fingers to his temples. This was precisely why he wasn’t going to confront Celeste. Arguing only made the situation worse.

He raised his head to look at Lucy again. “You’re in love with Montborne, so you invited him to seduce you and then threw his proposal of marriage in his face.”

She clasped her hands together until her knuckles whitened. “Would
you
have accepted him?”

“The marquis is fickle and vain and absolutely penniless. Yet you leave me no choice but to allow him your hand.”

“I meant if it was
you
who loved someone, and they finally proposed to you out of a sense of guilt, would you marry them?”

Ash had no sympathy for her. “You’re well aware of the rules. You gave yourself to him. He’s yours.”

“Ha.” She looked away.

“I see nothing funny about this. He is honorable enough to make an honest woman of you. He’s kindhearted and I believe he does feel some emotion for you. By your own admission, you’re in love with him. You will marry him.”

“You cannot force me.”

Ash hesitated. The sister he loved with all his heart stood across from him, obstinate and in pain. Yes, he did understand what it felt like to love a person who didn’t return the sentiment whole-heartedly. It didn’t excuse Lucy’s poor choices, just as it didn’t excuse his. She must be made to see that. “You will have nothing, otherwise,” he said slowly, as though it were possible she would stop him mid-sentence to announce she’d changed her mind. “Not a penny from me.”

She shrugged, shaking her head sadly at his threat. “You’re not the type, Trestin.”

That caught him unawares. “Of course I would—”

She sighed. “I don’t credit for a minute that you would turn me out without a shilling.”

He would. Not because he wanted to turn her out in dire straits, but because he wanted her to relent. “I made Delilah the same promise.”

“Did you?” She let out a sad laugh. Then, in a near-whisper she said, “I know you so well, but you continue to misjudge me. I will never be threatened. I have the means to support myself. My school in Bath will open next week, and I will no longer be here to make you miserable.”

“How?” The word fell from his lips before he’d even thought it, he was that surprised. How had she arrived at the means to open the school? When had she found the time?

She crossed her arms, a protective measure he’d seen Celeste use when their conversation turned personal. “Unimportant.”

“Did you draw credit? Good God, is it in my name?” He could barely afford his sisters. He couldn’t afford an entire school.

“Of course not!” Her voice rose as her hands dropped in fists at her sides. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said? I’m a woman, Trestin. Not helpless.”

“But how?” He simply couldn’t fathom it.

When he continued to regard her silently, she capitulated. “I found a benefactress. She’s provided everything.”

A sponsor? Fury burned through him. All the years he’d scrimped and planned, the needed repairs he’d weighed against his sisters’ futures… She could toss all his effort back in his face without fear, because she didn’t need him. Not anymore.

He’d thought she couldn’t hurt him anymore than she already had.

“Who is it?” he demanded. But then he knew. With a sickening surety, he knew.

Her lip protruded mulishly. “None of your concern.”

Oh, it was his concern. If he needed any more proof to confirm this whole tragedy was his fault, he had it here. Lucy didn’t need him anymore, because she had Celeste.

Celeste had stolen everything from him. His sense of propriety, his foolish heart, his best friend’s pride, and now his sister. She’d taken the one weapon he had to use against Lucy, her dowry, and made it look like a paltry toy.

“She can’t do this,” he said. Pointlessly, for it had already been done. Blindly, he stared at the breakfast room. Everything looked so normal, as if this morning weren’t the worst in his life. Slowly, his eyes settled on the untouched setting beside Lucy’s. Foreboding filled him. “Where’s Delilah?”

Their sister rose with the sun. If she hadn’t been down for breakfast yet, she must be…

“Where is she?” he roared, bottled emotion escaping its strict confines. “Where is your sister?”

Lucy’s face mottled but she didn’t crack her cool façade. She glanced at a clockwork over the fireplace. “I imagine she’s married by now. Mr. Conley fetched her yesterday.”

“WHAT?”

Lucy’s shoulders straightened. “He’s a good man. Dependable. Not at all like Lord Montborne.”

“You’re the one who chose Montborne!” Ash’s mind reeled against this new, horrific revelation.
Delilah had eloped.
His stomach threatened to heave. He leaned against the chair, needing its support as his lungs threatened to collapse. “How could she?” he whispered, his vision blurring.
How could she leave him?

“She loves him,” Lucy said slowly. “You would not consent.”

Ash turned his face away. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “He’s not good enough.”

She didn’t come closer, or try to comfort him. “I thought you’d have it figured out by now. None of us are good enough. That’s what makes us human.”

Ash stared at the wall papered with tiny, perfect roses until they smeared into a pink and green mess. “I only wanted the best for you. I did everything I could think of…” His breath shuddered from him.

“Oh, Trestin.” Her footfalls sounded behind him. Then, at last, her hand rested on his shoulder. “I had to seduce him. I had to
know
.”

“He wants to marry you.”

She sighed. Her hand patted his shoulder. “No, he doesn’t.”

Ash wasn’t as certain. Montborne had seemed a wrecked man. Had he let slip anything specific? Some crumb of hope Ash could offer his sister? His memory of the previous night was muddled by drink. Too, anything shared behind those library doors had been shared in confidence. Even if Ash could remember, he wasn’t sure he could tell her.

“Where did Delilah go?” he asked instead of pressing Lucy further. He released his death grip on the chair and stalked to the window.

She retook her seat behind him, perhaps as wearied by their argument as he was. “I don’t know. She means to settle in Gloucestershire, near his family. She said they were headed to Gretna Green first but I’m not so sure. She’s above the age of consent.”

“She’s in Gloucester, then.” Days from home. His chest felt tight, his stomach cramped. In a week Lucy would be gone, too. Bath was almost as far as Gloucester.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy turn in her chair to look at him. “You should marry Celeste. Then you won’t even miss us.”

It took a full minute before he trusted his voice. “That you would even suggest such a thing assures me you have no sense of what is right.”

“She’s not a monster.” Lucy turned back to her breakfast. She toyed absently with her now-cold toast. “She understood my desperation to be with Lord Montborne as no one ever has. Trestin, I wouldn’t mention the whole deal with Roman again, but I feel it’s relevant. She helped me because she’s in love with you.”

His heart gave a sharp kick.
Lies.
“If she loved me, she wouldn’t have let you ruin yourself.” He couldn’t believe how calmly he said it. He still didn’t want to believe it was true.

Lucy glanced at him over her shoulder. “She made me happy, Trestin. She makes you happy, too. Why won’t you admit it?”

There went the tightening in his chest again. “Montborne is not happy.”

“Well.” She clinked her stale toast against her plate. He allowed her a minute to contemplate his words. Then she snapped the triangle wedge in two. “He ought to know what it feels like when he disappoints others.”

“Except he’s done no wrong.” With that instinctive defense of his friend, he felt guilt-ridden. He’d lodged despicable allegations against the man. Last night, had he apologized?

He had to make sure Montborne knew he regretted everything.

“I’ll never believe he’s as guiltless as you say.”

He studied his sister, really seeing her for the first time in weeks. Still brown-eyed and black-haired, still defiant. He couldn’t quite place what was different. But he found it awkward to realize that she seemed to have matured when he wasn’t looking.

“I can’t see the benefit in continuing this conversation,” he said, suddenly wanting to be out of the room. “Montborne is willing to marry you. It’s in everyone’s best interest that you accept. You’re young now, but one day you’ll wish you had married. I’m sure he can be brought around to the idea of your boarding school, if you are bent on having it. I don’t imagine he means to kick his heels in Devon year-round. You should have plenty of time to pursue your own interests.”

She stood and turned on him so fast, Ash stepped back. “You would have me at home while he chases skirts in London?”

Ash paused. “I didn’t mean that.”