Pride & Passion. Charlotte Featherstone

think your friend would like it if I were not to attend,” he drawled, making Lucy’s face flame.

      “Oh, Adrian, do not tease. Lady Lucy means nothing of the sort … she only seeks to remind you of the obvious. Tonight is lodge night.”

      “Ah, yes, but one only has these special opportunities arise so infrequently. The lodge can wait, I believe. Yes,” he murmured thoughtfully as he watched her. “I think I shall send word around to Mrs. Sumner that the three of us shall be attending. If you’ll excuse me, ladies.”

      And that was the end of it. Of course, Mrs. Sumner would be ecstatic to receive the Duke of Sussex. The man was a paragon in society, and every matron swooned at the thought of having the duke attend their gathering. There was no possible hope for it now. She was committed to an evening out with Sussex. And she knew very well what everyone in the ton would be speculating come the morning—that she and Sussex had an understanding.

      Blast him for so easily commanding the upper hand!

      “You are in for it now,” Isabella whispered into her ear. “Here is the end of your avoidance of his grace.”

      Refusing to acknowledge Isabella’s outrageous, but truthful, claim, Lucy stared out the window, wondering what dreadful illness she might concoct to relieve her of the night’s invitation.

      “I cannot say how excited I am,” Lizzy said with a smile that was beaming. “I adore music. One doesn’t need the gift of sight to enjoy it. And it’s been such an age since I left the house to do more than shop, or visit Isabella. Thank you, Lucy, for inviting me. What wonderful friends you and Isabella have become.”

      How could she do this, deny Elizabeth an outing? Lizzy was a good friend, and Lucy was being a poor one, thinking of nothing else but her own discomfort. No, she could not do this, hurt Elizabeth. One insufferable night with his grace. She could tolerate it, if for nothing else but the enjoyment of her friend.

      “Lucy and I feel very much the same, Lizzy,” Isabella added.

      “Well, then,” she said, while checking the door. His grace had left for his study, and Lucy wanted to be far, far away if he decided to return to the salon. “Shall we go upstairs and choose your gown for the evening?”

      “Oh, yes, yes, of course. You and Isabella have such a way with descriptions. I can almost see when you two are around.”

      Lucy dearly wished her knack with descriptions worked with words of denial. Because she truly wished she would have found the right words to say to make the duke leave before their conversation had even started.

      “But first, Lucy, I think you must take a few minutes to peruse the conservatory. We had planned on it during your last visit, and time got away from us, if I recall.”

      The idea of a few stolen moments of silence and solitude lured her to agree. That was what she needed, a moment or two to gather her spiraling thoughts, and set herself to rights.

      “If that would be agreeable, I would love to. There was a beautiful, bright pink flower that needs further investigation, I believe.”

      “Oh, the lily. Yes, yes.” Lizzy nodded. “And wait till you smell them. Gorgeous scent—heady and exotic. I’ve asked Sussex for an accurate description, but I shan’t bore you with what he told me.”

      “Well, then I am convinced that I shall give you a better description, Lizzy. I won’t be long, however.”

      Together they rose, and Lucy watched as her cousin escorted Lizzy from the room, grateful for a few minutes of peace to gather her thoughts.