“Doesn’t believe you’re a valet, Bell?” Clayton asked, chuckling.
Bell rolled his eyes. “I don’t think she believes I’m a male, let alone a valet.”
“Well, you can’t blame her, can you? It’s not as if you aren’t playacting,” Lucas added.
Bell braced one elbow on the table and frowned. “Be that as it may, I’ve never known anyone to take such an instant dislike to me.”
“Feelings hurt, Bell?” Clayton asked, giving him puppy-dog eyes.
“Hardly,” Bell scoffed.
“Is she one of our lot?” Clayton asked next.
“No,” Bell replied, “apparently she came with Lady Copperpot. She’s the daughter’s maid.”
Clayton shrugged. “Well, I can’t do anything about her behavior then, unless you’d like me to have a word with Lady Copperpot.”
“No. Nothing that drastic. She’s merely an annoyance. I’m entirely certain I can handle her.” Bell shook his head. “Meanwhile, Lucas, how is your wife search progressing? Any prospects yet?”
Lucas opened his mouth to mention Miss Wharton, when Bell continued. “I haven’t had time to do much research on any of them, but I do know of one young woman whom you should steer well clear of.”
“Who’s that?” Lucas asked.
“One Miss Frances Wharton.”
Lucas snapped shut his mouth. “Why?”
“Isn’t she the one who acted like a termagant at dinner last night?” Clayton asked. “A young lady who screams at servants is hardly the type of wife you’re looking for, Lucas. Besides I hear her father is destitute. No dowry there.”
Lucas cleared his throat and looked toward the door, desperate to change the subject. “What’s keeping Worth? Have either of you heard if he made it through the night?”
“Oh, you know Worth,” Clayton replied. “He’s always the last to make an entrance.”
As if he’d been summoned by his friends’ words, the Duke of Worthington came sauntering into the room. He glanced around to ensure the four of them were alone before saying in a booming voice, “Did someone call for a groomsman?”
“We were just talking about you,” Clayton said as Worth joined them at the table.
“Not to worry, gentlemen,” Worth replied with a grin. “I’m still in the game. My identity has not yet been revealed.” He crossed his arms over his chest and gave them all a smug smile.
Clayton sighed. “Blast. There goes one hundred pounds.”
Worth arched a dark brow. “Whatever do you mean?”
Clayton pulled a purse from the inside pocket of his coat, removed a handful of bills, and tossed them toward Bell. “I made a side bet with Bell that you wouldn’t last the first night.”
“I am hurt by your lack of faith in me,” Worth replied, batting his eyelashes dramatically in Clayton’s direction. “And thank you, Bell, for believing in me,” he said to the marquess, who pocketed the money and bowed his head toward Worth.
“I take it no debutantes have come out to the stables yet then, Worth,” Lucas said with a laugh.
“One,” Worth answered. The brooding tone of his voice made Lucas glance at him twice.
“Really?” Bell asked, his voice taking on a clearly interested tone. “Who?”
Worth leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, his arms dangling along his sides. “Oh, only one Lady Julianna Montgomery.”
Bell’s eyes widened and he whistled. “Lady Julianna Montgomery?” he echoed. “The young lady you jilted two years ago?”
Chapter Nine
Frances told herself she wasn’t truly hoping she’d see Mr. Lucas when she went to the library again the next morning. But she couldn’t help the tug of disappointment in her chest when she opened the door and found the room empty. Servants’ tasks were scheduled, were they not? Had she been a fool to expect he might return with more wood for the fire again today?
She hurried over to the corner where she suspected the law tomes were housed, intent on seeming as if she was quite busy indeed if Mr. Lucas did enter the room. When five entire minutes had passed with no sign of him, she found herself dejectedly staring up at the large volumes, completely forgetting what she was looking for.
When the door opened a few moments later and Mr. Lucas strode in with his arms full of small pieces of wood, her heart thumped so hard in her chest that it hurt.
She swung around quickly, her rose-colored skirts swishing against her ankles. “Good morning,” she called, immediately regretting the loudness of her voice.
Her mother was constantly berating her for being loud, but Mr. Lucas didn’t seem to mind. A wide smile covered his face. His reply was equally exuberant. “I wondered if you would be here again, my lady.”
She lifted her skirts and made her way toward him. “Disappointed? Or pleased?” That was an awfully flirtatious thing to say, but she simply couldn’t help herself.
“Pleased. Definitely pleased.” He inclined his head toward her before continuing his path to the fireplace and setting down the logs.
She joined him there, standing a few paces away, while he removed his coat and tossed the logs onto the fire just as he’d done yesterday. She sighed. She could watch this all day.
“I trust you had a more relaxing dinner last night,” Mr. Lucas said without turning to look at her. “I noticed you somehow managed to be seated nowhere near Sir Reginald.”
“That was no coincidence,” she replied with a laugh. “I had tea with Lady Clayton yesterday afternoon and told her my plight.”
“You spoke with Theo…Lady Clayton?” Mr. Lucas cleared his throat.
Frances narrowed her eyes on him. Had he nearly called Lady Clayton by her Christian name? That was odd. “Yes, we had tea and a nice chat. She agreed to seat me elsewhere last night. She sympathizes with me, dear lady. It turns out her parents wanted her to marry a man she didn’t love either.”
Mr. Lucas glanced up at her and nodded. “Yes. If she hadn’t broken her leg spying on Lord Clayton’s horse, things might have gone quite differently for her.”
Frances eyed Mr. Lucas again. That was also odd. How did he know so much about his masters’
