She thought back to what he had told her about his late wife. Ariadne thought them a devoted couple, but Lucy was sceptical. Ralph himself had admitted Helene was not happy and she had detected no sign of affection in his manner when he talked about his wife. She stopped and uttered her thoughts to the open air.
‘But if that is the case, why does he want me to look like Helene?’
She fixed her eyes on the darkening sky, as if the black clouds might give her an answer. The only response was a fat raindrop that splashed on her nose. She hurried on, reaching the house just as the heavens opened.
* * *
The heavy rain continued for the rest of the day, making the sky so dark that when Lucy went down to the drawing room before dinner she found that Ariadne had ordered the candles to be lit.
‘These summer storms are so depressing,’ said Mrs Dean, staring despondently at the rain cascading down the windows.
‘Best to be thankful there is no thunder and lightning,’ remarked Ralph, walking in at that moment. ‘That sends even the most sensible females into a panic.’
Lucy, still smarting from the way he had left her that morning, bridled immediately.
‘Not all females, my lord.’
He raised his brows, looking at her as if her comment was not worthy of a response. She watched him sit down beside his cousin and engage her in conversation.
Good. She was glad and did not wish to talk to him when he was determined to be so disagreeable. She had to admit that he was being perfectly civil to Ariadne, but whenever he was obliged to acknowledge Lucy he did so with such brevity that it bordered on curt. Byrne came in to announce dinner and Lucy hung back. With only the briefest hesitation Ralph offered his arm to his cousin.
It was what Lucy had intended, what she wanted, yet following them across the hall she felt decidedly alone. The rain did not help, for it made the Great Hall cold and gloomy, and when they reached the dining room she was glad to find that an abundance of candles burned brightly, giving the room a cosy glow that offset the sound of the rain pattering against the window. Mrs Dean remarked that they would need to ensure they had a good supply of candles for the forthcoming house party.
‘Colne sent off an order for another twelve dozen only yesterday,’ replied Ralph. ‘Which reminds me, have you made up the guest rooms yet?’
‘Lucy and I allocated the rooms today. There is a little furniture to be moved, but apart from that nothing need be done now. We shall make up the beds the day before your guests arrive.’
He nodded. ‘And when does Mrs Sutton anticipate the rest of your gowns will be ready, Lucy?’
‘She has promised them next week, my lord.’
He did not respond immediately, but when Byrne followed the servants out of the room he said, ‘I thought we were agreed that you would call me by my name?’
‘I beg your pardon, my—Ralph. It slipped my mind.’
‘Then pray do not let it happen again.’
Ariadne shook her head at him.
‘Fie upon you, Cousin, how can you expect Lucy to address you informally when you are acting so cold and...and lordly this evening?’
‘I am paying her to do so.’
And very handsomely, Lucy acknowledged silently. However, it did not mean that she would be browbeaten. She remarked, as the servants returned with more dishes, ‘Ralph cannot help being cold and lordly, ma’am. It is all he knows.’
With Byrne filling the wineglasses and the footmen in attendance, only the narrowing of Adversane’s eyes told Lucy that her comment had hit home.
The dinner was excellent, as always, but Lucy felt a tension in the air. Perhaps it was the weather. It was very close in the dining room, but the driving rain made it impossible to open the windows.
Ariadne did not seem to notice, but whenever Lucy looked at Ralph, he appeared to be frowning and distracted. He contributed little to the conversation and by the time the covers were removed Lucy was so incensed by his conduct that she barely waited for the door to close behind the servants before asking him bluntly what he meant by his boorish behaviour.
Those black brows flew up.
‘I beg your pardon, ma’am?’
Ariadne fluttered a warning hand at Lucy, but she ignored it.
‘You have barely said two words together during dinner,’ she retorted. ‘If there is something pressing upon your mind then do please share it with us. Otherwise it would be courteous to give us at least a little of your attention.’
‘If there are matters pressing upon my mind, madam, they are my business, and not for general discussion.’
‘Dinner is a social occasion,’ she retorted. ‘My father always said if you cannot talk about a problem then it should be left outside the dining room. He considered family dinners to be most important.’
‘When he was sober enough to attend them!’
He saw her flinch as if he had struck her, and it did not need Ariadne’s outraged gasp to tell him he was at fault.
‘Lucy—Miss Halbrook, I beg your pardon, I—’
She held up a hand to silence him. Slowly, she rose to her feet.
‘If you will excuse me, Ariadne, I think I shall retire.’
‘My dear!’ Mrs Dean put out her hand, then let it fall and looked instead to her cousin. ‘Ralph, how could you say such a thing? You must apologise.’
‘I have done so, Cousin.’
‘It is unnecessary, I assure you,’ said Lucy in freezing accents.
Keeping her head high, she left the room. She closed the door behind her with exaggerated care, determined to keep her anger in check. To her annoyance she could feel the hot tears coursing down her cheeks. She dashed them away but more followed. The through-passage was empty but she could see shadows moving in the Great Hall and hesitated, unwilling to allow the servants to witness her distress.
She heard the dining room door open and a hasty tread upon the boards behind her. Heedless of decorum, she turned and raced through the passage, heading for the gardens.
‘Lucy!’
She wrenched open the garden door and flew across the terrace, heedless of the drenching rain. The only light came from the house windows, illuminating the terrace with a pale gleam but leaving the rest of the gardens in darkness. Without thinking Lucy plunged down the shallow steps into the blackness. She had reached the bottom step when Ralph caught up with her, catching her arm and forcing her to stop. She kept her back to him, rigidly upright, anger burning through every limb.
‘Forgive me.’
She shook her head, unable to trust her voice, but thankful that the rain had washed away all evidence of her tears. She would not allow him to think she was so weak.
‘Lucy, you are right, I have had something on my mind. I have been distracted, ever since our meeting at Druids Rock this morning, but it is not something I could share with you in company.’
‘That does not give you the right to throw my father’s weakness in my face.’
‘I know, but I was taken aback by your reproof.’ An unsteady laugh escaped him. ‘No one has dared to admonish me at my own dinner table before.’
‘More’s the pity. Now leave me alone!’
She shook off his hand, only to find herself caught by the shoulders and whirled about so violently that if he had not maintained his