My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(81)

He sincerely hoped there was no reason for him to come back into the house. If Lucinda broke down weeping and he had to escort her back to her mother, it would be awful. He turned to Lucinda, who was tying her bonnet ribbons, and offered his arm. “Shall we, Lady Lucinda?”

They strolled across the street to the large central garden, through a gate in the iron railing. Directly across from them stood Gunter’s Tea Shop, with a cluster of carriages sitting under the shade of the trees nearby and more people sitting on the benches in the park. Jack steered Lucinda toward a quieter part of the square, wanting a little privacy. “Have you been enjoying your Season?” he asked politely.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Lucinda was a tall girl, as slender as a reed with a mop of wild red curls. Or rather, she’d had wild red curls as a child; today her hair was scraped back from her face into a braided knot, now hidden beneath her bonnet.

“Very good.” They walked in silence for a moment. “I asked you to walk with me because I have something of a delicate nature to discuss with you,” Jack said.

“No,” she blurted out.

Jack stopped in surprise. “I beg your pardon.”

Lucinda flushed deep pink. “My mother told me what you are going to ask, and as honored as I am, I must decline.”

“Must you?” he murmured, his mind racing.

She released his arm and took a step away, wringing her hands. “I must. I know you made a promise, and you have been so very generous and good to me and my mother since Papa drowned, but I am afraid I absolutely cannot marry you.”

“Ah.” He was so relieved he felt dazed. “Cannot?”

Her mouth opened in dismay. “Oh—-I meant I don’t want to!”

Jack began to smile. She looked so horrified and then embarrassed as awareness of what she’d said sank in. Yet it was beyond anything he’d hoped to hear from her, and in spite of himself he began to laugh.

“Oh please.” Lady Lucinda was the color of milk, clutching her hands to her stomach as if she would be sick. “Please forgive me—-I ought not to have been so rude. Please, Your Grace, let me explain—-”

He recovered enough to speak. “Set your mind at ease. I am not offended. Quite the contrary, as it happens. That was the matter I wished to discuss with you”—-she made a low moan of anxiety—-“but your answer does not surprise me.”

Her eyes darted from side to side. “It doesn’t?”

He shook his head. “I gather our mothers have been plotting a match between us, entirely without my knowledge. I presume your mother spoke to you about it.”

“Well.” She bit her lip hard. “Yes . . .”

By which Jack guessed Lady Stowe had talked of little else this Season. “Did she never ask your opinion of the matter?”

Lucinda blushed bright pink. “No,” she whispered.

“Then there is really nothing more to explain.” He offered his arm again. “Shall we enjoy the rest of our walk? It really is a fine day out.”

She goggled at him for a moment, then slowly put her hand back on his arm. “You’re not angry?”

“I suppose it’s somewhat lowering to be told a woman absolutely doesn’t want to marry me, but I am not angry.” Vastly relieved, in fact.

Lucinda’s brow knit, and for a moment she looked to be thinking very hard. “I don’t suppose you actually wanted to marry me. Mama said you had given your word to do so, but that was years ago, and I can’t imagine you knew what you were promising.”

“I gave my very solemn vow to look after you and your mother,” he replied. “I shall not break that promise. As for marriage . . . It would be unconscionable for any man to swear to marry a girl who was too young to have any say in the matter. You were scarcely eleven years old.”

Her fingers twitched on his arm. “When my papa died.”

“Yes.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You never promised to marry me, then.”

“No,” he admitted.

Lucinda exhaled loudly. “Thank goodness! Oh, Your Grace, that is such a relief to hear. My mother told me it was my duty to accept you, so that you could keep your vow—-vows being vitally important to gentlemen—-and I’ve been dreading your call for so long! When you left town a few weeks ago, I even began to hope you wouldn’t return this Season at all, and I wouldn’t have to do anything about it.”

A few weeks ago he’d left town with Sophie. A small smile crossed his face. “I considered not returning at all.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” said Lucinda frankly. “Every day my mother has reminded me that it’s my destiny to be a duchess, and all I could think was how terrible that sounded.”

“Why?” This was far more entertaining than expected.

She wrinkled her nose. “First, a duchess is so proper! I should dread everyone watching me to see what I wear and how I behave. It’s bad enough when my mother does it. And then you’re so old—-” She froze, her eyes widening. “Oh dear—-oh no—-”

Jack was losing his battle with laughter. To her he must appear ancient, even though little more than a dozen years separated them. “No, no, I quite understand. Go on.”

“I meant so much older than I,” she said, her face cherry red. “Very kind, of course, and so good to Mama and me, but . . .” She bit her lip before rushing on. “But the most important reason is that if I become a duchess, I shan’t be able to go to Egypt, and that is my fondest wish in the world.”