The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,40
that I’m aware of,” Louisa replied.
“I have just finalized the arrangements. We leave tomorrow morning.”
“When are we returning, Papa?”
“We’ll return Friday evening,”
Aunt glanced at her. “Could we not return Friday morning, Henri? I’ve plans for Friday evening.”
“Not the morning. Perhaps the afternoon, if my business is concluded.”
Lucinda cleared her throat. “Why would we be accompanying you on a business trip, Papa?”
He laid down his fork and knife and looked at her. “Because you are my daughter. Because I enjoy having you with me. Because there will be some interesting people to meet. We’ll take the train at nine and be in Valley Forge by luncheon.”
She buttered her croissant and looked at her aunt, who shook her head. She agreed. There would be no changing his mind, and an argument would only make the days miserable. She would not have an opportunity to speak to James before his match. But if they were back in time, she was going to see James fight. She would see him for herself and perhaps talk to him afterward.
“Won’t you walk outside with me, Miss Vermeal? The night is fine,” Carlton Young asked.
“No, thank you, Mr. Young,” Lucinda said to the host’s son. It was Thursday of the week spent with her father and aunt at the Young home—mansion, really—set on the banks of the Schuylkill River in Valley Forge. They were three of the more than thirty guests who’d been feted with endless rich foods and wine, entertainment, and the chance to mingle with their equals in wealth and social standing. She’d been to any number of these sorts of entertainments in Virginia, and this bore a close resemblance, even down to the similarity of the types of guests. The haughty, some hoping to further their social standing, the beautiful, the well-educated, and of course, those looking to cement future relationships, whether they were of a business nature or more personal. Mr. Young was looking at Lucinda as his prize.
“Let me get your wrap, my dear,” he said with a smile.
She looked back at him steadily. “No, thank you.”
“What a charming couple you make,” Mrs. Young said as she approached and patted her son’s arm. “Like a romantic portrait with you standing in front of the fireplace.”
“Lucinda,” Aunt said, surely offering to rescue her. “Would you like to take a turn about the room with me? There are several paintings we could enjoy discussing.”
She smiled. “I’m fine, Aunt Louisa.”
And she was fine. She was not some inexperienced and naive debutante easily manipulated by the likes of Mrs. Young and her son. She looked directly at her hostess.
“Your comment was inappropriate, ma’am. Mr. Young and I are not a couple nor was there any intent on my part to be an element in a romantic scene, as you have implied.”
She was gratified to see the spark of anger behind Mrs. Young’s ever-present smile of condescension and glanced at her son. He was looking at Lucinda with fawning admiration. Mrs. Young drifted away to another guest, and Father joined them, looking from Carlton Young to her and back again with a smile.
Mr. Young made his feelings known at that moment. “Miss Vermeal. I am . . . I am in awe of you. No one ever stands up to my mother. Your set down was magnificent. Allow me to fetch you some lemonade or wine.”
Lucinda did not roll her eyes. Aunt Louisa did. Carlton Young was a tall, handsome man, schooled at the best colleges with a year spent traveling in Europe to add a certain panache he hoped to exude. He was also easily managed and accustomed to a woman directing his every move. He was the quintessential husband for her, per her father’s requirements.
“What have you done?” he asked as Mr. Young hurried away to retrieve refreshments.
“Done?” Lucinda asked. “No more than you would have expected me to. Mrs. Young’s implications were ridiculous and involved our family name. Certainly, you would not wish me to embroil the Vermeals in something that could be tawdry.”
Henri Vermeal’s face was red, and his lips trembled with rage. “He is the perfect choice for you, Lucinda. I’ve already decided. He will give you attractive children, has just the right pedigree, and you will be able to handle him with little effort. Insulting his mother will not smooth the way!”
“Henri,” Aunt Louisa said with a smile. “Keep your voice down. Others are watching. And while you would be insulted if someone belittled your mother, apparently Carlton Young is not.