The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(53)

Derek threw another punch that connected solidly with his opponent. Damn it. He’d already made his decisions. He didn’t want a challenge. He wanted peace. Another punch. And quiet. Another punch. No more fighting. A fourth punch. He’d had enough of fighting. Lucy Upton was the kind of woman who wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. She could have her bloody Lord Berkeley. So why did Derek crave her?

The chap across from him was a bloodied mess and acknowledged defeat. Too bad he wasn’t Berkeley. Derek apologized profusely for breaking his nose. Poorly done, that. He hadn’t meant to hurt the lad. But his mind had been preoccupied with thoughts of Lucy Upton. Damn it.

Derek gathered his belongings and left the club. He took off on foot back to his town house. What about Lady Cassandra? He was supposed to keep courting her. Had promised Julian. But what sort of a scoundrel would he be, courting Cassandra after what he’d done with Lucy this afternoon? Damn it all, why had he done those things with Lucy? He was a highly trained military officer. He had no excuse for his loss of control around her. And the passion with which she’d responded to him—it made him hard again just thinking about it.

Blast it. What was he going to do? Things could not continue this way. That much was certain.

Apparently Lady Cassandra was ill. He believed that now. And though he didn’t wish an illness on her, it did afford him time. Time to think. Time to decide what to do next. About both ladies.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


Later that afternoon, Jane and Lucy sat in chairs facing the bed in Cass’s bedchamber. Jane was reading Wollstonecraft to their ill friend while Lucy pretended to embroider. In truth she was merely poking the needle through the material and picking the thread back out again. Over and over. She’d attempted the same stitch a dozen times. Oh, it was no use. Guilt rode her hard. She couldn’t embroider. And the words Jane read weren’t holding her interest, either.

What would Derek do now that that had happened between them? What would he say to her? What would he say to Cass? How would everything progress from here? Oh, she was a miserable human being for doing what she’d done today.

“Lucy, has Lord Berkeley come to call?” Cass asked with a sly smile moments after Jane stopped reading and shut the book.

Lucy looked up nervously from her stitching. Lord Berkeley. She hadn’t even thought about him since her afternoon with Derek. Lord Berkeley had been the first decent suitor she’d had in years and now she’d gone and acted like a harlot with another man. Now, that was a pickle.

“What? Oh, yes. Yes, he came to call. Twice,” she answered Cass.

“And what happened?” Cass asked. “I cannot believe we’ve been sitting here all this time and you haven’t mentioned it.”

“Yes, what happened, Lucy?” Jane asked, leaning forward.

“Oh, we had tea yesterday and it was … it was … nice.”

Jane stuck out her tongue. “Ugh. Nice?”

“It was,” Lucy insisted.

Cass scrunched up her nose. “Somehow ‘nice’ doesn’t sound so nice.”

“He’s really quite a nice man,” Lucy added. Oh, what was the use? Her friends knew her too well. The fact was that she and Lord Berkeley had exchanged barely more than a few words both times he’d come to call. She wasn’t certain if it was because she had nothing to say or because he had nothing to say. But they’d both quietly sipped their tea and smiled at each other off and on and that was all there was to it. Nice was probably too effusive a word. Not to mention, the entire time Lord Berkeley had been sitting in the drawing room, Lucy had been having wayward thoughts about Derek. And that had not been helpful at all.

“There’s that word again,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Nice.”

Cass took a deep breath. “Perhaps you should see him again. Find out if you get along better next time. That reminds me. You never told me, Lucy, what did the duke say when you told him I was ill?”

Lucy jumped. She pricked her finger with the needle. “Ouch.” She popped the appendage into her mouth to suck on it briefly before saying, “What? I told you.”

Cass shook her head weakly. “You said he gave me his well wishes, but you never said if you thought he believed you about my illness.”

Lucy sat up straight, dropping the detested embroidery into her lap. “I think he believed me.”

Jane gave her a funny look. Lucy still hadn’t had a chance to speak with Jane, and she desperately wanted to. She’d merely whispered to her earlier as they’d entered Cass’s room that she wanted to have a private word at some point. Jane had nodded.

Cass looked hopeful. “Do you really think he did believe you?”

Lucy nodded. It was all she could do with Jane’s assessing gaze on her.

“Did you fight with him again, Lucy?” Cass sighed.

Lucy wanted to sink through the floor. She couldn’t look at Cass. She kept her eyes pinned to the embroidery circle. “No. I. We were quite … civil today.” Heavens, lightning would strike her. She was a harlot. A lying harlot.

“I’m glad to hear that, Lucy,” Cass continued. “Because I was hoping that you would keep him company while I’m ill.”

Lucy’s head snapped up. Her eyes went wide. “Keep him company? What?”