sweetly before imparting a brilliant smile upon Thornhill. Immediately, Carter knew real regret. No one, other than his family, had ever looked upon him with such welcome.
Mrs. Warren extended her hands to Thornhill, and the duke readily accepted them before bringing one to his lips. “I am pleased to find you well, my Dear.” He motioned toward Carter. “You recall Sir Carter?”
The lady’s eyes brightened with an anticipated tease. “I recall a Mr. Lowery, but Sir Carter came into his own several months after our previous meeting.”
Carter enjoyed the soft floral fragrance, which wafted over him.
Roses
, he thought. He bowed from long-inbred training as a gentleman, but he would justas soon catch up the woman and keep her by his side. “I will answer to either, Mrs. Warren,” he said with an easy smile.
“May I bring tea?” the matron asked from behind them.
Thornhill frowned. “I am content with your company, Mrs. Warren.”
Carter noted his friend’s sharp glare and followed the duke’s lead. “As am I.”
Mrs. Warren nodded to the older woman. “Thank you, Mrs. Peterman. I shall come to you if His Grace and Sir Carter change their minds.”
The woman, obviously, understood Thornhill’s repugnance for alternated tea, often found in poorer homes, but she held her tongue. “Simon shall be with me in the kitchen,” she announced before closing the door upon her exit.
Mrs. Warren did a poor job of suppressing her sigh. “Please have a seat.” The lady motioned to three chairs gathered closely together.
He and Thornhill waited for the lady to assume her seat before they settled in. They placed their hats and gloves on a nearby table, as the landlady had not thought to accept them on their entrance.
Without preamble, Thornhill declared, “Lucinda, I will not have you spend another day in these conditions.” Carter recognized the duke’s need to protect “fair damsels,” but a woman, such as Mrs. Warren, would not welcome Thornhill’s assumption. Perhaps time had dulled Carter’s memory of the lady’s brilliance, but not of the woman’s frank means of speaking.
“Your Grace, I appreciate your concern,” she said through tight lips, “but I mean to see to my own future.” The lady forced a smile on Thornhill, but Carter suspected it was one firmly planted in agitation.
Carter realized Thornhill would not surrender so quickly, but the duke said, “Then I am pleased I have asked Sir Carter to join us. The baronet and Baron Swenton are the only two of my former mates who have maintained close ties with the government. Nothing moves in England of which Sir Carter is not aware.”
Lucinda watched the baronet carefully as the duke praised the man’s political ambitions. He was exactly as she remembered him.
Like a Greek god
, she had thought when she had laid eyes upon him.
A God sent protector
. Of course, thebaronet would hold no memory of that eventful day on the Continent. He had placed himself between her and danger, and Lucinda had thought him the most magnificent man she had ever seen. She had never felt so safe. Not with her father, who had spent his time with his military maneuverings, much to her neglect, even when she tended the colonel in his tent. And certainly not with her husband, who had treated her as he would the younger sister of a dear friend. No, it was Sir Carter Lowery, who had stirred that foreign need to succumb to a man’s protection.
She had met him again purely by accident at Lady Eleanor Fowler’s Come Out ball. Lucinda had sat beside Lowery throughout the supper hour, but she had purposely not reminded him of the kindness he had once shown her. She had not been at her best on their previous acquaintance, which could only be described as brief.
Despite the casual slant of his shoulders, Lucinda had no doubt Sir Carter was a man of action. Tall and lean. Muscular. Vivid dark brown eyes. A determined chin. Splendidly thick hair. Dark brown also, with