ThePerfectPoison
THIRTY-TWO
AN HOUR LATER LUCINDA STOOD WITH VICTORIA, PATRICIA and Edmund in a small alcove off the main ballroom. Together they contemplated the elegant crowd.
“It is just as you said, Lady Milden,” Patricia declared with relish. “It seems that every gentleman in the room wants to dance with Lucinda. I do believe she has been out on the floor more often than I have.”
“I don’t understand it.” Lucinda seized another glass of lemonade from a passing tray. She was parched. The only reason she had accepted so many invitations to dance was because the physical activity served as a temporary distraction from her growing sense of impending disaster. She could not escape the sensation that Caleb had made a grave mistake by meeting with the kidnapper. “What on earth is the attraction of a woman everyone believes was nearly sold into a brothel?”
Victoria smiled a serenely satisfied smile. “Never underestimate the appeal of a notorious lady, especially one who has been claimed by a member of the Jones family.”
Lucinda choked on her lemonade. “Claimed?” she sputtered. “Claimed? What on earth are you saying? Mr. Jones danced one dance with me tonight and then took his leave.”
“You may believe me when I tell you that the rumors about your association with Caleb Jones have been flying for days,” Victoria said cheerfully.
Lucinda felt the heat rush into her face. “I hired him in his professional capacity to look into a private matter for me. Our association is a matter of business.”
Victoria chuckled. “No one who saw him dancing with you the other evening and again tonight could possibly conclude that your relationship is limited to a matter of business.”
“This is getting awkward,” Lucinda said.
“Nonsense.” Victoria waved the entire thing aside with a flick of her fan. “Nothing awkward about it.” She raised a brow at Edmund. “I think it is past time you took Patricia out onto the floor, Mr. Fletcher. We must maintain the impression that you are a friend of the family.”
Lucinda could have sworn that Edmund flushed a dull red. Patricia turned a warm pink and suddenly became very busy adjusting the hooks that pinned up the train of her gown.
Edmund stiffened and inclined his head very formally. “Miss Patricia, if you will do me the honor?”
Patricia stopped fussing with her gown, took a deep breath and gave him her gloved hand. Edmund led her away through the crowd.
Victoria glowed with enthusiasm. “Don’t they make a lovely couple?”
Lucinda watched Edmund and Patricia move onto the dance floor. “When they aren’t bickering. Honestly, I have never heard two young people squabble more than that pair. It’s enough to make you . . .” She stopped and turned her head to look at Victoria. “Oh, good grief, surely you aren’t going to tell me that they are a match?”
“A perfect match. Knew it the moment I saw them together, of course. Now we shall see what happens. Nothing like the waltz to quicken the pulse of romance.”
Lucinda saw Edmund pull Patricia a little closer and spin her away into a long, whirling turn. Even from this distance it was easy to see that Patricia was practically effervescent.
“Hmm,” she said. “Well, I suppose that explains the squabbling and the giggles. But I foresee problems. Mr. Fletcher seems very nice and he has certainly devoted himself to protecting Patricia but I fear he does not meet her requirements in a husband. He does not appear to have a steady, respectable income of his own, for one thing. As I understand it, his work for Mr. Jones is of a somewhat erratic and unpredictable nature. And he knows nothing of archaeology.”
“Mere trifles, I assure you.”
“I’m not so sure that Patricia or her parents will view those issues as trifles.”
“When the energy is right, love finds a way.”
Lucinda looked at her. “Love might find a way but it could lead to disaster. It is one thing for a woman of a certain age to engage in an illicit relationship, quite another for a young lady like my cousin to do so. You know that as well as I do.”
“I assure you, I am not in the business of promoting illicit affairs.” Victoria was genuinely offended. “I’m a matchmaker and I take my professional responsibilities very seriously. Mark my words, Patricia and Mr. Fletcher will be properly wed.”
“In spite of the obvious obstacles?”
“No,” Victoria said. “Because of them. Growing love is rather like growing good wine grapes.”
“Meaning that the fruit is sweeter when the vines are forced to struggle under somewhat difficult conditions?”
“Precisely.”
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