Lucy Lane and the Lieutenant. Helen Dickson

are wrong, Lucy. I would be most offended had he not called on me...’ Dora’s voice trailed off as a cough she had tried to restrain got the better of her.

      ‘Oh, Aunt Dora,’ Lucy whispered, hating to see her weakness. Handing her a glass of water, she held it while she took a sip. ‘Is that better?’ Her aunt nodded, resting back on the cushions and dabbing her lips with a handkerchief. ‘I’ve brought you a basket of fresh fruit from the market, along with a book of poetry I thought you might like to read. I’ve given them to Sarah.’

      ‘Thank you, dear,’ Dora said, casting her niece a worried look, ‘but I wish you would not spend your hard-earned money on me.’

      Lucy gave her a loving smile. Aunt Dora had no idea of the dire straits she found herself in, but the time had come when she would have to be told. ‘I like to spoil you. How I would like to take you to the country where the fresh air will make your chest better.’

      Dora airily waved a slender hand. ‘You must try not to worry so, dear. I do so hate to be a bother. As you see I am better than I was—and I do so hate the country, as you well know. I’m only at my best when I’m in town close to my friends, and you, Lucy dear—although I was so sorry when Nathan told me you are no longer to play Portia. What is Mr Portas thinking of to give the role to someone else?’

      Lucy threw Nathan a reproving look. ‘I’m amazed Nathan was able to give you the news when it is yet to be made public. I would have preferred to tell you myself.’

      ‘I called when you were out, looking for work,’ Nathan explained, his voice quietly sympathetic. ‘Your maid—Polly?—gave me the unfortunate news. I’m sorry, Lucy. I know how much that part meant to you.’

      ‘Don’t be too downhearted, Lucy,’ Aunt Dora said, giving her a comforting pat on the hand. ‘There will be other parts. Although I confess I am extremely disappointed with Mr Portas.’

      ‘I am more than willing to provide a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on, if so desired,’ Nathan offered.

      Lucy dragged her gaze towards his tall commanding figure. He was gazing at her with an air of surprising openness, as he stood in front of the fire in a casual, manly pose, his arm draped along the mantelpiece. ‘I do not desire. At present I am extremely angry and disappointed.’ He raised that damnable eyebrow at her, so knowing, so thoroughly in control.

      ‘I can understand that.’

      Lucy glared at him, hating that mocking smile that twitched infuriatingly at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t think you understand the enormity of what has happened to me,’ she retorted, going to stand in front of him and glaring into his eyes. ‘I did wonder if for some malicious reason you might be the perpetrator of my downfall,’ she said angrily, for the suspicion had briefly crossed her mind.

      ‘I want you with me, Lucy, but I would not stoop that low.’

      She was relieved to hear him say that. Her emotions told her she could not possibly survive the pain of it if he had.

      ‘What nonsense is this, Lucy?’ Aunt Dora piped up, her voice reproachful. ‘How can you accuse Nathan of such a thing? He does not have a malicious bone in his body. You accuse him most unfairly.’

      Nathan’s smile was almost sweet. ‘Your aunt is right. You are letting your imagination run riot.’

      Lucy’s temper flared. ‘I am not accusing you, but my troubles began the day after you came to see me. It began with the trade’s people I owe money to. Have you any idea how humiliating it is to have people coming to your home and demanding money.’

      ‘You could put an end to this situation.’

      ‘How? By agreeing to go with you to Portugal?’

      ‘Portugal?’ Aunt Dora cried, the mere idea of her niece disappearing into a war zone bringing her upright. ‘Why on earth would you go to Portugal with Napoleon’s soldiers running wild all over the place?’

      Lucy was quick to reassure her. ‘Please don’t upset yourself, Aunt Dora. I am going nowhere.’

      ‘Don’t be distressed, dear,’ Aunt Dora said. ‘I have a little money put by. We are not destitute. It’s not the end of the world.’

      How Lucy wished that were true. ‘It certainly feels like it to me. Don’t you see? No one is going to employ me now.’

      ‘But you are a talented actress. I’m sure something will turn up.’

      ‘You have more faith than me,’ Lucy murmured. ‘I’ve been to every theatre in London looking for work, but no one is taking on new actresses.’

      ‘Lucy...’ Nathan wanted to go to her.

      She lifted her gaze solemnly to his. ‘Yes?’

      When he saw the painful sadness dulling her beautiful eyes, remorse dragged his spirit down into the depths of a dark abyss. ‘I am sorry things are as bad as that.’

      ‘But—how will you manage?’ Aunt Dora wanted to know.

      How shall we manage? Lucy thought, for Aunt Dora no longer had the money to pay her own bills. She would never know the enormity of them. Not that Lucy minded while ever she was working and could afford it. Lucy’s parents had died shortly after her birth and Aunt Dora had raised her as her own. There had never been much money and Lucy had spent most of her childhood hanging about theatres in the company of actors, but they had managed and Aunt Dora had done her best. Lucy would be grateful to her for ever and she loved her dearly.

      ‘I shall have to look for some other kind of work and of course I shall have to give up my house. Things will be difficult for a time. I’m afraid we’ll both have to tighten our belts.’

      ‘Then you must move in with me. You can have your old room. It will be like old times having you close by me.’

      Lucy smiled at her fondly. ‘Thank you, Aunt Dora. I think I shall have to take you up on that.’

      ‘You have work if you want it,’ Nathan said quietly.

      Her gaze passed over him scornfully. ‘With you? I think not.’

      ‘Why are you so angry with Nathan, Lucy? As you will remember, Nathan, my niece can be quite volatile at times. She is a woman of mighty will.’

      ‘So am I,’ he replied firmly.

      In spite of their broken engagement, Lucy knew that in her heart Aunt Dora had always held an image of Nathan as her betrothed. She had been deeply disappointed when they had parted. ‘Nathan is anxious to preserve me to use for his own ends, Aunt Dora, but I’m afraid that will never happen.’

      Nathan lifted a brow questioningly as he dared to delve into those shining green orbs. ‘And you’re certain of that, are you, Lucy? I wonder if you have really considered the full depth of your predicament.’

      ‘I am fully aware how dire my situation is and I know you to be the most persistent. I resent very much your high-handedness in arranging my life. I have done quite well without you in the past four years and will continue to do quite well without you in the future—without further interference from you.’

      His voice was calm when he spoke. She could not seem to shake him. ‘You seem to forget that it was you, not I, who ended our engagement, Lucy.’

      ‘Out past relationship has no bearing on the future.’ Turning her back on him, she went to her aunt. ‘I must go now, Aunt Dora. I will come and see you tomorrow with better news, I hope.’

      ‘Must you go so soon?’ She sighed and kissed her niece. ‘Very well, Lucy. As I said, something will turn up. I am sure of it.’

      Purposely not looking in Nathan’s direction, Lucy went out.

      ‘Go with her, Nathan,’ Dora said. ‘Talk to her and come and see me again soon.’