The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(87)

Cass and Aunt Mary both gave Lucy encouraging smiles just before she came to a halt several paces in front of the queen’s throne.

“Lady Lucy Upton, Your Majesty,” some regally dressed servant announced.

The queen looked down her nose at Lucy. She seemed to study her from top to toe. No doubt the princesses were doing the same. She couldn’t look at them.

“Lady Lucy,” the queen intoned.

Lucy held her breath. If she remembered correctly this was one of the most difficult parts. A throne room bow wearing hoop skirts was something from which one might well never recover. But she and Cass had practiced until Lucy felt as if her ribs might crack. She was prepared. Gulp. She hoped.

She lowered herself into the sweeping bow, hoping against hope that she did not tip over and fall flat upon her face. “Your Majesty.”

“You may stand,” the queen offered shortly thereafter.

Lucy slowly and carefully righted herself. One exceedingly awful part finished. How many more remained?

The queen folded her hands in her lap and glared at Lucy. “Lady Moreland tells me she questions whether you are a suitable wife for Claringdon.”

Lucy kept her gaze trained on the floor. She wanted to slap Lady Moreland, or at least deliver a crushing set-down to the matron. How had lovable, wonderful Cass come from such a hideous woman? Lucy shook her head. Must concentrate. Demure. Demure. Demure. “I understand, Your Majesty.”

“And do you agree?” the queen asked, her voice pitched high.

“I do not, Your Majesty.” If demure called for lying, Lucy just couldn’t do it. She could nearly hear Cass wince.

“I see.” The queen held out her hand, and a footman rushed forward with a sheet of parchment. Another footman hurried forth and presented the queen with a pair of golden spectacles. She perched them upon her nose and unfolded the parchment. “It says here that you’ve been known to do tricks on horseback.”

Lucy gulped. Oh, no. The queen had a list? This could not end well. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You learned to hunt and fish as a child?”

Eyes still riveted to the floor, Lucy nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You make poultices for horses?”

Lucy swallowed. “And hounds. And sometimes people, Your Majesty.”

“You once challenged a boy to duel?” The royal voice went up in pitch again at that one.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Hrmph.”

Sweat trickled down Lucy’s brow. Oh, this was not going well. Not going well at all.

“You.” The queen stopped, and Lucy dared a glance. The queen removed her spectacles and rubbed her eyes before placing the frames back upon her regal nose. “You asked your father if you could attend Eton?” The queen’s eyebrow arched and she looked around at the princesses. “That cannot be right.”

“It is, Your Majesty,” Lucy replied. That was it. If she heard a thud it would be Cass fainting.

The princesses giggled at Lucy’s confession. Lucy winced. She remembered that tittering sound from five years ago. It had been etched in her brain.

The queen narrowed her eyes and stared at her. Lucy contemplated her monarch. This woman had fifteen children and a mad husband. She’d seen her share of oddities no doubt. But she was looking at Lucy as if she were a creature from another world.

“Turn around, Lady Lucy,” the queen demanded.

Lucy gritted her teeth and did as she was asked.

“I’m told you have a sharp tongue,” the queen said next.

Demure. Demure. “Also true, Your Majesty.”

The queen pulled the spectacles from her nose. The footman rushed back to retrieve them. “And are you curbing it today for my sake?”

“Absolutely!” Perhaps that had been a bit too vehement.

More giggling from the princesses. Lucy wanted to sink through the floor.

“I see,” the queen intoned. “Lady Moreland also informs me that when you made your bow, you caused quite a scene.”

Lucy let her shoulders relax for the first time since she’d entered the chambers. Oh, thank heavens. The queen didn’t remember it herself.

“I … may have, Your Majesty.”

“Did you or didn’t you, Lady Lucy?”

She could hear Cass’s voice in her head. Say you didn’t. Say you didn’t.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Yes. I made an awful scene, Your Majesty. One that I am extremely regretful of at present.”

The queen’s eyebrow shot up again. “And did you regret it at the time?”

Lucy squared her shoulders and pushed up her chin. This was it, the final strike against her. “No, Your Majesty. I only regret it now because I hope it will not affect your decision as to my worthiness to marry the Duke of Claringdon.”

A gasp went round the room. All eyes were on the queen’s face. What would the royal lady possibly say to that?

From the corner of her eye, Lucy spied Cass standing next to Aunt Mary rapidly fanning herself. Aunt Mary seemed to have a permanent wince burned onto her features, and Lady Moreland had her arms crossed over her chest and a satisfied smirk on her face. She knew she’d won.

Lucy picked up her skirts. Cass had been adamant. She must back out of the room as soon as the queen dismissed her. One never turned one’s back to a monarch, and Lucy’s retreat was about to be the most humiliating in history.