Chapter Nine

 

The team of white horses snorted as the driver pulled on the reins of the large carriage that stopped in front of Chudleigh Hill. Lucy stood by the door and waited for her parents to alight, excited to see her father, but even more so Mary. It had been far too long since she and her sister had shared in the latest gossip, and she could not wait to see her. When they were younger, they spent hours together, dressing their dolls when they were children and talking about whichever boy they fancied once they were old enough to find boys interesting.

The driver hopped from his seat and pulled out a step, which he placed on the ground just outside the door of the carriage. After opening the door, a gloved hand appeared, and the man helped Lady Honeyfield from the vehicle, her dark-blue skirts rustling as she expertly stepped down to the ground. She adjusted her hat, a lovely bergere with a ribbon and large feather that matched the blue in her dress. The woman still looked young and vibrant despite her forty years.

Lord Honeyfield followed his wife from the carriage and pulled on his coat as he looked around the him appreciatively. His round face held the typical rosiness it always did, and his smile was as wide as ever when he laid eyes on Lucy. “There is my daughter!” he beamed, his arms opened wide.

Lucy moved forward into his embrace, and for the first time since waking from her long sleep, she felt safe. It was an odd feeling, for she had not been feeling unsafe, only unsure. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, for now she could find out the truth about how she and Andrew had come to be married. Her father never had, and never would, lie to her.

“I am so happy to see you, father,” Lucy said when the embrace ended. “You look well.”

His smile widened. “Look at you,” he gushed. “You look wonderful, as beautiful as ever.”

Lucy glanced over her father’s shoulder and craned her neck as she waited for Mary to step out. However, the driver closed the door and removed the step, leaving Lucy to gape after him.

“Where is Mary?” she asked her mother before realizing she was interrupting a conversation she and Andrew were having.

Her mother cast a suspicious glance at her father but then fixed a smile on her face as she took Lucy’s hand. “Unfortunately, she was unable to come. But do not worry; you will see her soon enough.”

Lucy wondered at her parents’ odd behavior but pushed aside the uncertainty and vowed to simply enjoy their company, and more importantly, get to the bottom of what had truly happened a year and a half ago.

“Did Horace prevent her from coming?” Lucy asked with a laugh. “If he did, I will have a word or two with him.”

Her mother shook her head. For a moment Lucy thought she saw a brief flicker of something unrecognizable in the woman’s eyes, but it was gone so quickly, perhaps she had imagined it. “Not at all,” her mother finally replied. “Be thankful we are here; you know how difficult it can be for your father to get away from work.”

“Your bags will be taken to your room,” Andrew said as he called over one of the liveried footmen. “Let us retreat to the drawing room and have a drink. I imagine the ride over was dry and dusty. You must be parched.”

Lady Honeyfield smiled as she waved a hand in front of her face. “Oh, very much so. Thank you so much, Your Grace.” She took Andrew’s offered arm and the two were soon in light conversation as they made their way into the house.

“Well,” Lord Honeyfield said as he watched the pair, “it seems you are left with me to escort you into the house.” He did not say this with annoyance or offense, but rather with amusement as he offered his arm to Lucy.

Lucy hooked her hand in her father’s arm. She was happy to see him; however, it seemed strange to think that it had not been less than a week since she had seen him last, which is what her mind told her. If what she had been told was true, it had been months, and the idea was still very unsettling. Yet, she would not ruin her parents’ visit by complaining about her memory issues. She was simply glad they were there. It was nice to have someone familiar, people she loved dearly, there with her.

Her father led her to the sofa where her mother sat.

“Would you like a drink?” Andrew offered. “Tea will be served shortly, but perhaps something to tide us over?”

Lord Honeyfield grunted his approval. “A brandy, if you do not mind,” he said.

“No thank you,” Lucy’s mother replied with a quick reproachful glance at her husband. Lucy stifled a giggle; her mother did not approve of alcohol, which was amusing since Foxglove Estate had more than enough to get the entire city of Exeter drunk. However, since it was a favorite pastime of many of the ton, drinking that is, she kept her opinions to herself and abstained completely. What made it even more interesting in Lucy’s opinion was that the woman did not see wine as a form of alcohol at all, thus allowing her to partake of it without suffering from guilt.

“I take it your journey here was uneventful,” Andrew said once everyone had a drink.

“It was fine,” Lord Honeyfield replied. Then he turned to Lucy. “I must say, it is good to see you up and about. How are you feeling?”

“I am well, Father,” Lucy replied. “I am feeling much more rested and am acclimating myself to…things.”

Lord Honeyfield sat upright. “So, you are remembering things?”

Her mother laid a hand on her father’s arm. “No, Robert, she does not remember.” Then she looked at Lucy. “Unless you have made progress since I left.” Her eyes were hopeful, and Lucy felt a sadness wash over her as she replied.

“No, I do not.” She looked down at the floor and knew her face had to be bright red with embarrassment.

“Lucy has shown great progress since she awoke,” Andrew said as he gave her a reassuring smile. “The doctor is pleased, as am I. He has said she has no lasting injuries to her body or mind and that the chances of her regaining her memory are quite high.”

Lucy gave Andrew a grateful look. Rogue or not, he was showing great kindness at this moment, and for that, she was grateful and she would accept it until he returned to the person he truly was.

Hannah came in with a tray and, within minutes, Lucy and Lady Honeyfield had a cup of tea, the men preferring to sip their brandies. Once she finished, she gave Lucy a quick smile and left the room. Although Andrew had insisted the woman discontinue serving, she had refused. “I must keep busy when I am not tending to Her Grace,” she had insisted. “I can’t expect Leah to do it; she only has enough sense to clean the fire grates and sweep the floors.” Then she had reddened thoroughly before quickly adding, “Not that she’s not a good worker, mind you, Your Graces.” She also protested bringing in another woman to replace her, which had amused Lucy immensely.

“She means well,” Lucy had told Andrew, who had appeared a bit angered by the woman’s insistence of doing both jobs. He grunted his agreement and the matter had been dropped.

“Mother,” Lucy said as she took a sip of her tea, “how long will you and Father be staying?”

“We must leave first thing in the morning,” her mother replied airily. “Your Aunt Judith has been asking us to visit for ages, so we have decided to do just that.”

Lucy stared at Lady Honeyfield, her brow scrunched. Her mother did not get along well with her sister, and Lucy found it odd that her mother would want to visit her. Then again, she had no recollection of the past eighteen months, so perhaps the two had mended their relationship and were now on speaking terms.

As the conversation flowed, Lucy could not help but feel a pang of sadness. There was so much she had missed, such as mended relationships and who knew what else? As Andrew walked to the small drink cart, he placed a hand on Lucy’s shoulder and Lucy looked up at him. For the first time she noticed how blue his eyes were, so much like the ocean. He winked at her before removing his hand, and she felt a warmness spread through her.

“Well, Honeyfield, shall we go into the study and talk business?” Andrew asked. “I am sure the women would prefer not to be forced to listen to our droll conversation. Would you mind much, Lucy?”

It was Lucy’s turn to give Andrew a quick wink, which made his smile widen. “Not at all. Mother and I can converse here while you men do whatever it is men do when they are locked away in a study.” Why she chose to act in such a playful manner, and to wink at the man no less, was beyond her, but she knew her father could be a bit tedious at times. It was another show of Andrew’s character that he was willing to listen to the man.

When they had gone, Lucy laughed. “He is still the same man I remember,” she said with a wide grin. “I feel sorry for Andrew having to listen to him.”

“Lucy!” her mother admonished, though it was lighter than it could have been. “You should not speak ill of your father.”

“Oh, Mother, I know I should not, but you must admit, he does go on forever.”

Her mother sniffed halfheartedly. “Well, enough of that for now,” she said, clearly wishing to change the subject. “Now, tell me about you and the Duke.”

Lucy sighed. What was there to tell her? She did not dine with the man nor did she engage in conversation with him, at least not other than her feeble attempts at getting information from him. “It is going well,” she said and then quickly added, “So, did you know we are having lamb tonight? I hope it is as good as what Carol prepares.” Carol was the cook at Foxglove Estate. “Oh, and speaking of Carol, what happened with her husband?” One thing Lucy could recall quite well was her mother’s love of gossip. And truth be told, Lucy did not mind a bit of it herself.

Her mother seemed reluctant at first, but then replied, “Of course, you would not remember, but the rumor was that Nicholas was caught with a milkmaid in the stables.”

This information brought a gasp from Lucy, though it also brought on a feeling of familiarity, as well. She and her mother sharing in a bit of gossip felt normal, and Lucy found it enjoyable. For the first time since waking, Lucy looked forward to returning to her old life, and that would have to start with her reconnecting with friends from whom she did not remember disconnecting.

***

“So, then I thought to myself, ‘surely this man is telling a lie’,” Lord Honeyfield said with a loud, boisterous laugh. He took another bite of the braised lamb, chewing with gusto. “Fine cut,” he added after following it up with a swallow of yet another glass of brandy.

Lucy’s father had dominated the majority of the dinner conversation, though Andrew seemed more than happy to accommodate him by the way he interjected his own opinions as if what Lord Honeyfield had to say was important. Lucy, herself, felt it was all a bore and wondered if the lengthy dinner would finally come to an end so she could excuse herself to return to the room she had been assigned. It was difficult for her to see the room as her own; when Andrew asked her to consider Chudleigh Hill as her home, she found the idea almost painful.

“I have been meaning to ask,” Lucy said when the conversation lulled, “the books in the library, do you mind if I read them?”

Andrew set down his glass and gave her a puzzled look. “They are our books, not just mine, so please, read whatever catches your eye.”

Lord Honeyfield put his fork down with a loud clank, making everyone at the table jump. “Speaking of books,” he said, his voice now a bit slurred, “I have just finished an excellent volume on the wool trade. I forgot to include it in my things on this journey, but if you would like, I can bring it the next time we are here.”

“That would be very kind of you,” Andrew replied happily.

Lucy held back the urge to roll her eyes as the two men continued with a conversation about sheep. The irony of the fact they were eating the very animal about which they were discussing did not slip past her, and it took much control to keep from laughing.

Lady Honeyfield, on the other hand, was enjoying her glass of wine, perhaps a bit too much in Lucy’s opinion, but the fact that the actions of both her parents had not changed even through the months of her illness left her with a comfortable feeling of familiarity. Despite how comfortable she felt, she had learned that life was simply too short to spend it becoming inebriated and discussing farm animals; although, if she were to suggest to her mother that she was indeed even the tiniest bit intoxicated, the woman would have argued nonstop until Lucy retracted her statement.

Lucy realized that, if she was to have an interesting conversation of any sort, it would be up to her to provide the topic. “How long have you and Aunt Judith been on speaking terms?” she asked.

Her mother gave her a quick smile. “For some time now,” she replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I was simply wondering why you were going to visit her when my last memory of you two was a very nasty argument which led you both to pledge never to speak to one another ever again.”

“That was a long time ago,” Lady Honeyfield said with a quick wave of her hand as if to say the matter was not important enough to discuss. “We all have our moments of anger, but we have put aside our differences and move on. Now, tell me, have you received word from Charlotte yet?” Lucy’s mother always had a way of changing the subject if she chose not to continue on a vein for which she felt either uncomfortable or which caused her boredom, and Lucy was much too tired to keep up the pretense.

However, twice her mother had avoided discussing her sister, which only piqued her interest even more. What could her mother be hiding from her concerning Lucy’s Aunt Judith? And with a surge of curiosity, Lucy vowed to get to the bottom of whatever it was her mother was trying to hide.