A Timeless Romance Anthology: European Collection (22 page)

“But by staying away, aren’t I insisting that my preferences are the ones that must be bowed to?”

“Come sit, dear.” Mother patted the space beside her on the sofa.

Lucy sat beside her, feeling more confused and frustrated and tired than she had in some time. Nothing about this Season had gone as planned. She longed for Reed’s company. She missed the little gestures of kindness she received from him— his arm when she walked, the way he adjusted her wrap when they were out, their shared excitement over antiquities and ices. She missed his smile and his laughter.

Mother set aside her embroidery. “Reed has been in consultation with your father and Robert and Charles.” She made that fact sound like a terribly ominous thing. “They realize we mean to teach Reed a lesson in valuing his wife, and they mean to teach us a lesson in return.”

“What lesson is that?” The only thing the past week had taught Lucy was that being a wallflower as a debutante is being a wallflower as a married lady. The former was disheartening, while the latter was simply heartbreaking.

Amelia, sitting in a chair facing them on the sofa, leaned forward. “The gentlemen mean to show us that we are the ones who cannot live without
them
, that we are more miserable in their absence than they are in ours. They are determined to prove that we will give over first and go running back to them, begging for their company. To make us admit that we miss them when they are gone.”

Mother nodded her agreement with Amelia’s explanation.

“But I don’t know that I can live without him,” Lucy said. “What is so wrong with telling him so?”

“And deal a blow to ladies everywhere?” Amelia scoffed. “No, dearest sister-in-law. Your victory in this battle will give hope to your fellow wives. You will be a revered warrior.”

“‘A revered warrior’? How utterly ridiculous. I only wanted Reed to take me to balls and such. When did this turn into a war?”

Mother waved off the question. “When? Adam and Eve, darling.”

Lucy felt unaccountably exhausted. “How much longer do I have to keep ‘teaching Reed a lesson?’ This has been a long week for me. I don’t get to go home to my husband as you do. I am alone every night and every morning and most of the day. I haven’t danced at any balls, nor have I had the man I love to whisper with at the theatre. Your endurance may be endless with those things buoying you up. But mine is quickly running out.”

“Do not fret,” Mother said, retaking her embroidery. “The tide will turn tonight. We have it all in hand. You’ll see.”

That night, Lucy watched her mother and sisters assume their positions at the ball and couldn’t help thinking that the undertaking rather resembled the positioning of troops on a battlefield.

Reed had arrived, flanked by the Harrison men. As they had during the past few evenings, the gentlemen quite obviously headed in the opposite direction of Lucy. But the Harrison ladies had anticipated the maneuver. Mother was waiting for them. They were too far distant for Lucy to overhear their conversation, but she could easily guess at it.

Mother offered a greeting, doing a poor job of pretending to be surprised at having bumped into Reed. He made some kind of polite reply, all the while glancing at his companions for some indication as to what he might do to counter the ladies’ strategic victory. Before anyone could speak to the contrary, Mother had her arm threaded through Reed’s and was leading him rather forcibly in Lucy’s direction.

How utterly humiliating. All I wanted was for him to accompany me to Society functions, but here I am now watching him be bullied into even talking to me.

Reed reached her side a moment later. He wore the same vaguely polite expression he had at Mother’s at-home a week earlier. “Mrs. Stanthorpe.” The same emotionless greeting as before.

Oh, Mother. This had better be worth the heartache.
“Mr. Stanthorpe,” she replied, as her female relations had advised her to.

“As luck would have it,” Mother said, “Our Lucy has this next set free. How fortuitous.”

Reed hesitated for just a moment. Would he truly turn down such a pointed request? “I—”

Father interrupted whatever Reed was about to say. “Oh, dear, ladies. I do believe Mr. Stanthorpe told me he didn’t mean to dance tonight.”

Lucy kept her gaze on her husband. “Is that true?”

“I...” His eyes darted to Father then to Robert and Charles gathered nearby. “I am not particularly in the mood for dancing, and if would be unfair in the extreme for a person to be forced to do something he did not care to do.” Something about the declaration felt practiced.

Reed has been in consultation with your Father and brothers.
This, then, was what Mother meant. They were combatants. Indeed, Amelia and Robert seemed almost gleeful at the prospect of debating the topic.

“By that logic,” Amelia said, “a lady who does not care to be left at home evening after evening shouldn’t be forced to remain there by a husband who refuses to take her out.”

Robert answered his wife’s argument point by point. “Requiring a gentleman to undertake something he finds truly distasteful is hardly comparable to a lady spending a quiet evening at home.”

“Distasteful?” Amelia clearly objected to the word. “If you found squiring me about all these years so torturous, why did you even bother?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Robert answered. “I was never given the opportunity to stand up for myself and for husbands everywhere. But Reed here does. And I, for one, applaud him.”

Lucy looked to her mother. Was this truly the great victory she’d promised? This was “having it all in hand?”

Mother didn’t seem swayed in the least. “If Mr. Stanthorpe does not mean to dance, surely he would have no objection to taking a turn about the room. You would have been doing precisely that as it was.”

As far as logic went, that was rather water-tight. Reed made a nod and small bow of acknowledgement. Lucy stood and took the arm he offered. They stepped away from her family, looking for all the world as though they were taking an unexceptional turn about the room. Inside, however, Lucy was tangled mess of emotions.

She had missed him, missed him to the point of misery. But he didn’t seem to have suffered at all in her absence. She didn’t want to spend the remainder of her Season without him, but neither did she wish to dig up this old argument every summer, having to beg and plead for every outing. She didn’t want them to bicker in public the way Amelia and Robert were, or secretly conspiring against each other the way her parents were.

She held more tightly to Reed’s arm, grateful for his presence even in her uncertainty. He set his hand on top of hers. That light touch took her back a year to their courtship when that was all they were permitted. Her heart pounded at the feel of his hand on hers. Lucy settled herself into that fleeting connection, finding a wonderfully welcome helping of peace by having him at her side again.

He broke the silence between them. “We are having very fine—”

“Don’t you dare speak of the weather, Reed Andrew Stanthorpe.”

He abruptly stopped. His eyes pulled wide and his mouth hung the tiniest bit open. She didn’t apologize for her vehemence, didn’t take back her words. An entire week they’d been apart, not seeing each other, not speaking. She would not endure a stilted and insincere conversation on topics neither of them cared the least about.

He seemed to fumble about for the right thing to say. “Weather is a commonplace topic between two people.”

She pulled her arm free, shaking her head in frustration. “We’ve not seen each other in a full week, yet you have nothing to say to me beyond ‘commonplace topics between two people’?”

“Lucy—”

“Either you are wounding me on purpose, or you really are utterly indifferent to me.” The thought brought a fresh threat of tears. “I had thought you were as miserable as I was, that you missed me as much as I missed you. But Mother was right. You didn’t. Not at all.”

“Lu—”

She couldn’t bear more empty words. Not caring that she was likely making something of a scene, Lucy hurried away toward the doors. The Barringtons lived but a few doors from Lucy’s parents’ home, and therefore, she could return there without waiting for the carriage to be summoned. The Barringtons’ butler insisted on sending a footman to accompany her. Lucy didn’t object, but neither did she wait.

The footman caught up to her a moment later. He accompanied her in appropriate silence, leaving her thoughts ample opportunity to turn and twist about. Her parents’ butler opened the door to let her in and sent the Barringtons’ footman off. Lucy was grateful the butler didn’t inquire after her early return. She had no desire to explain.

She rushed up the stairs and to her bedchamber. Tears flowed by the time she dropped, exhausted, onto her bed.

Their plan had seemed so ingenious at first: some time away would show Reed how much he really enjoyed their time together. He would appreciate her company enough to be willing to take her to all the Society events she’d longed to attend. Though she knew she would miss him, she’d thought he would come to his senses quickly, that they wouldn’t be apart for long.

And he doesn’t even care. He hasn’t missed me at all.

Chapter Six

By the time Reed reached the front of the Barringtons’ home, Lucy was gone. He stood looking out into the dark night, worry tying his insides into knots. How had things come to this?

“The scales have tipped decidedly in our favor.” Mr. Harrison slapped a companionable hand on Reed’s shoulder. “We’ll have the ladies agreeing to let us stay at home every night of the week soon enough.”

Robert and Charles had come as well, both looking pleased as could be.

“Another evening or two, and we can declare this a decisive victory for the gentlemen,” Robert declared.

“No.” Reed snapped out the word.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Robert smiled, even laughingly elbowing Charles. They all thought this a great joke.

“I mean there will be no more evenings like this. No more.” Reed stepped back into the entryway. “My hat and outercoat,” he instructed the butler. “And send for my carriage.”

A moment later, the items were in his possession and he was waiting in the vestibule for his equipage.

His in-laws closed in on him. “You are quitting the field?” Robert asked in a tone of surprise. “But we are winning.”

Reed eyed them each in turn. “Gentlemen, this has gone too far. I saw tears in my wife’s eyes tonight, and that is something I will never abide. Not ever. This ends now.”

They looked at him as though he had lost his mind. “If you give in now, Lucy will be leading you about by the nose the rest of your life.”

“So be it.”

His carriage pulled up, and Reed was grateful for the escape. He preferred staying on friendly terms with his wife’s family, but if they continued insisting he treat her with less kindness than she deserved, he would be hard pressed not to call each and every one of them out.

He’d gone along with the plan because he hadn’t expected it to wound Lucy the way it obviously had. They’d convinced him she was playing along, that it was a friendly bit of rivalry between them. A bit of lark was all. In the process, he had hurt his wife, his darling, wonderful Lucy.

To his surprise, Mr. Harrison climbed in the carriage with him.

“If you mean to try to change my mind—”

But Mr. Harrison held up a hand. “Actually, I mean to admit to you that you’re right. We took this game too far.”

“That seems a very abrupt change of position.” Reed wasn’t generally a suspicious person, but he’d seen an underhandedness in his in-laws over the past week, albeit it a good-humored underhandedness, and it made him wary.

“Robert, Charles, and I were thoroughly enjoying this little rivalry with the ladies. And I know from speaking of it with my wife that she, Amelia, and Clarissa have been amused as well.”

“Forgive me if I haven’t found it overly amusing.”

Mr. Harrison acknowledged Reed’s position with a quick nod. “I am not at all happy with how things have turned out myself. We didn’t mean to hurt Lucy’s feelings.”

“I need to apologize to her,” Reed said.

“Oh, son, you must do far more than that.”

The declaration was not a promising one. “Did you have something particular in mind, because I am currently at a loss.”

Mr. Harrison’s expression turned ponderous. “I might. I just might.”

Chapter Seven

Lucy’s tears dried by morning, though she kept to her room all the next day. She didn’t want to hear any more of her family’s schemes nor see the glint of triumph that would, no doubt, be in her father’s eyes. The gentlemen had scored a decisive victory, with Lucy’s broken heart being the spoils.

Over the past months, when something worried or upset her, she’d turned to Reed, and he’d listened as she talked it through. That always made her feel better. But he wasn’t here, and he’d made it quite clear over the past week that he didn’t really care to be.

She could go to their house not many streets away, ask if she could come home, and they could forget the rivalry they’d been entangled in the past few days. But there would always be the knowledge in the back of her mind that he hadn’t asked her back and didn’t really wanted her there.