Lucy rolled her eyes. That was a brother for you.
He seemed not to realize that he had insulted her, though, and Lucy supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Hermione’s beauty was so legendary that no one took insult with an unfavorable comparison. One would have to be delusional to think otherwise.
“I can’t very well put her in black,” Lucy said. It was the only hue she could think of that turned Hermione a bit sallow.
“No, no you couldn’t, could you?” Richard paused, clearly pondering this, and Lucy stared at him in disbelief. Her brother, who had to be regularly informed of what was fashionable and what was not, was actually interested in the shade of Hermione’s attendant dress.
“Hermione can wear whatever color she desires,” Lucy decided. And why not? Of all the people who would be in attendance, there was no one who meant more to her than her closest friend.
“That’s very kind of you,” Richard said. He looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re a good friend, Lucy.”
Lucy knew she should have felt complimented, but instead she just wondered why it had taken him so long to realize it.
Richard gave her a smile, then looked down at the flower, still in his hands. He held it up, twirled it a few times, the stem rolling back and forth between his thumb and index finger. He blinked, his brow furrowing a touch, then he placed the flower in front of her dress. They were the same blue—slightly purple, maybe just a little bit gray.
“You should wear this color,” he said. “You look quite lovely just now.”
He sounded a little surprised, so Lucy knew that he was not just saying it. “Thank you,” she said. She’d always thought the hue made her eyes a bit brighter. Richard was the first person besides Hermione ever to comment on it. “Perhaps I will.”
“Shall we walk back to the house?” he asked. “I am sure you will wish to tell Hermione everything.”
She paused, then shook her head. “No, thank you. I think I shall remain outside for a short while.” She motioned to a spot near the path that led down to the lake. “There is a bench not too far away. And the sun feels rather pleasant on my face.”
“Are you certain?” Richard squinted up at the sky. “You’re always saying you don’t want to get freckles.”
“I already have freckles, Richard. And I won’t be very long.” She hadn’t planned to come outside when she’d gone to greet him, so she had not brought her bonnet. But it was early yet in the day. A few minutes of sunshine would not destroy her complexion.
And besides that, she wanted to. Wouldn’t it be nice to do something just because she wanted to, and not because it was expected?
Richard nodded. “I will see you at dinner?”
“I believe it is laid at half one.”
He grinned. “You would know.”
“There is nothing like a brother,” she grumbled.
“And there is nothing like a sister.” He leaned over and kissed her brow, catching her completely off-guard.
“Oh, Richard,” she muttered, aghast at her soppy reaction. She never cried. In fact, she was known for her complete lack of flowerpot tendencies.
“Go on,” he said, with enough affection to send one tear rolling down her cheek. Lucy brushed it away, embarrassed that he’d seen it, embarrassed that she’d done it.
Richard squeezed her hand and motioned with his head toward the south lawn. “Go stare at the trees and do whatever you need to do. You’ll feel better after you have a few moments to yourself.”
“I don’t feel poorly,” Lucy said quickly. “There is no need for me to feel better.”
“Of course not. You are merely surprised.”
“Exactly.”
Exactly. Exactly. Really, she was delighted, really. She’d been waiting for this moment for years. Wouldn’t it be nice to have everything settled? She liked order. She liked being settled.
It was just the surprise. That was all. Rather like when one saw a friend in an unexpected location and almost didn’t recognize her. She hadn’t expected the announcement now. Here, at the Bridgerton house party. And that was the only reason she felt so odd.
Really.
Eight