few seconds before she could form a single word.
“What?” she squeaked.
“Mama and Papa feel that I ought to get married,” Patricia said. “I agree. There is no time to waste.”
For the first time in her life, Lucinda felt in need of a dose of smelling salts. She forgot about Caleb, the Shutes and the driver of the hired carriage. She stared at Patricia in mounting alarm.
“You’re pregnant?” she gasped.
10
“I am so sorry for giving you such a fright, Lucy.” Patricia helped herself to more eggs from the silver serving dish on the sideboard. “I do apologize.”
“Your apology would be more acceptable if you could manage to stop laughing,” Lucinda grumbled. “You nearly shattered my nerves.”
“Nonsense,” Patricia said. “You are made of sterner stuff. I suspect that if I had turned up on your doorstep, pregnant and desperate for a husband, you would have lost no time finding one for me. Don’t you agree, Mr. Jones?”
“I’m certain Miss Bromley is more than capable of accomplishing any task she undertakes,” Caleb said, buttering a slice of toast.
Lucinda glowered at him down the length of the table. It had no doubt been a mistake to invite him in for breakfast but she had found herself unable to resist. He was clearly relying entirely on his formidable will to overcome exhaustion, the bruises from the previous night’s adventure and the strange disharmony in his aura. The man needed food and then he needed sleep. She could offer the former. The healer in her would not allow her to do otherwise.
Nevertheless, she had expected him to turn down her invitation to breakfast. To her astonishment, he had accepted with alacrity, just as though he dined with her on a regular basis. Now he sat at the head of the table, filling the sunny morning room with the aura of his masculine vitality, and ate scrambled eggs and toast with the air of a man who had been hungry for a long time.
The neighbors must surely be talking, she thought. But given the notoriety that already swirled around the household, a mysterious gentleman caller was a mere bagatelle.
“I think we have had quite enough conversation on such a delicate subject,” she said sternly. “I suggest we discuss something else. Anything else. You have had your little jest, Patricia.”
“The thing is, I was not joking, Lucy.”
“What do you mean?” Lucinda demanded.
Patricia carried her heavily laden plate to the table and sat down. “I will not tease you any more about the misunderstanding concerning my not-so-delicate condition. But I was quite serious when I told you that I am here to find a husband. I think one month should be sufficient for the task, don’t you?”
Lucinda nearly dropped her coffee cup. At the end of the table Caleb swallowed another forkful of eggs and regarded Patricia with an interested expression.
“How do you propose to go about the business?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Why, the same way Cousin Lucy did, of course.” Patricia poured some coffee for herself. “It was a very efficient and very logical approach.”
Caleb looked at Lucinda.
“It was a disaster,” Lucinda snapped, suddenly quite cross. “Surely it will not have escaped your attention, Patricia, that not only am I not happily married, my fiancé died of poison and everyone thinks I’m responsible.”
“Yes, well, I do understand that matters did not work out precisely as planned,” Patricia said soothingly. “But that does not mean that the underlying method was at fault.”
Caleb appeared fascinated now. “Describe this method to me, Miss Patricia.”
“It was really quite straightforward,” Patricia said, warming to her topic. “Lucy made a list of attributes that she required in a husband. She gave the list to her father, who then assessed the gentlemen of his acquaintance and their sons to see which among them came closest to meeting her requirements.”
“The candidate Papa and I selected was Ian
“What?” she squeaked.
“Mama and Papa feel that I ought to get married,” Patricia said. “I agree. There is no time to waste.”
For the first time in her life, Lucinda felt in need of a dose of smelling salts. She forgot about Caleb, the Shutes and the driver of the hired carriage. She stared at Patricia in mounting alarm.
“You’re pregnant?” she gasped.
10
“I am so sorry for giving you such a fright, Lucy.” Patricia helped herself to more eggs from the silver serving dish on the sideboard. “I do apologize.”
“Your apology would be more acceptable if you could manage to stop laughing,” Lucinda grumbled. “You nearly shattered my nerves.”
“Nonsense,” Patricia said. “You are made of sterner stuff. I suspect that if I had turned up on your doorstep, pregnant and desperate for a husband, you would have lost no time finding one for me. Don’t you agree, Mr. Jones?”
“I’m certain Miss Bromley is more than capable of accomplishing any task she undertakes,” Caleb said, buttering a slice of toast.
Lucinda glowered at him down the length of the table. It had no doubt been a mistake to invite him in for breakfast but she had found herself unable to resist. He was clearly relying entirely on his formidable will to overcome exhaustion, the bruises from the previous night’s adventure and the strange disharmony in his aura. The man needed food and then he needed sleep. She could offer the former. The healer in her would not allow her to do otherwise.
Nevertheless, she had expected him to turn down her invitation to breakfast. To her astonishment, he had accepted with alacrity, just as though he dined with her on a regular basis. Now he sat at the head of the table, filling the sunny morning room with the aura of his masculine vitality, and ate scrambled eggs and toast with the air of a man who had been hungry for a long time.
The neighbors must surely be talking, she thought. But given the notoriety that already swirled around the household, a mysterious gentleman caller was a mere bagatelle.
“I think we have had quite enough conversation on such a delicate subject,” she said sternly. “I suggest we discuss something else. Anything else. You have had your little jest, Patricia.”
“The thing is, I was not joking, Lucy.”
“What do you mean?” Lucinda demanded.
Patricia carried her heavily laden plate to the table and sat down. “I will not tease you any more about the misunderstanding concerning my not-so-delicate condition. But I was quite serious when I told you that I am here to find a husband. I think one month should be sufficient for the task, don’t you?”
Lucinda nearly dropped her coffee cup. At the end of the table Caleb swallowed another forkful of eggs and regarded Patricia with an interested expression.
“How do you propose to go about the business?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Why, the same way Cousin Lucy did, of course.” Patricia poured some coffee for herself. “It was a very efficient and very logical approach.”
Caleb looked at Lucinda.
“It was a disaster,” Lucinda snapped, suddenly quite cross. “Surely it will not have escaped your attention, Patricia, that not only am I not happily married, my fiancé died of poison and everyone thinks I’m responsible.”
“Yes, well, I do understand that matters did not work out precisely as planned,” Patricia said soothingly. “But that does not mean that the underlying method was at fault.”
Caleb appeared fascinated now. “Describe this method to me, Miss Patricia.”
“It was really quite straightforward,” Patricia said, warming to her topic. “Lucy made a list of attributes that she required in a husband. She gave the list to her father, who then assessed the gentlemen of his acquaintance and their sons to see which among them came closest to meeting her requirements.”
“The candidate Papa and I selected was Ian
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