Just like that, all the eyes of Blythe were on her. Mrs. Blakesley swallowed hard as she took in Luci, knowing where they had been. There was nothing that happened at Blythe without her knowing. More than likely, she had been trying to buy them time as well. Yet she knew better than to speak now that Luci was the master’s target.
Taking a steadying breath, Luci suffered the last few feet in silence before dipping into what hopefully sufficed as a curtsy.
“Lord and Lady Treveon. What an unexpected pleasure,” she tried.
“Do not make me ask again,” Lord Treveon said darkly.
Before Luci could open her mouth to half-hazard an explanation, a violent yipping came from the carriage—scratches and whining pawing at the closed door.
Lady Treveon let out a boisterous laugh. “Oh, I was so caught up in the excitement I forgot about the girls!”
She turned and opened the carriage, where Stasia and Drusilla rushed out in a heap of black and white fur, going right for Luci’s feet. It was a constant that Luci would have happily done without. Lady Treveon called to her daughters, but they were already on the hunt and nipping at Luci’s feet.
With a whispered swear, Luci picked up Drusilla, who let out an indignant howl. Meanwhile, Stasia growled and pounced at Luci, going for blood. It was all Luci could do not to kick the beast.
“Look at that, Stefan. The girls just adore Luci,” Lady Treveon said, beaming.
Stefan Treveon merely huffed out an annoyed breath. “Mrs. Blakesley.”
It was all the summoning the housekeeper needed before she was sweeping up Stasia and saving Luci from her dance of survival.
“Where is she?” Mrs. Blakesley whispered as she stood.
“We need five minutes,” Luci said through her teeth.
The housekeeper glared at her before turning her brightest smile to the Treveons.
“Lady Treveon, Stasia has grown. What have they been feeding her at court?” her voice dripping with false sweetness.
Bright red curls bounced as Lady Treveon clamped her hands in delight. “Stefan, I told you the very same thing just minutes ago, do you recall? It was all that red meat, you know.”
Sir Treveon’s lips thinned, and he let out an exasperated sigh that made him look ten years older than he was. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and when his bushy eyes opened once more, Luci knew there was no more buying time.
“What good are you to me if you cannot keep track of your charge?” Sir Treveon spat.
There it was. Laid out in simple terms that wrapped around Luci’s heart and squeezed till she was nothing but remnants of the blood that fueled her breath. Her life was nothing without Brielle. Yes, she lived in a grand manor and didn’t spend her days laboring, but she was still that same orphan girl who had first come to Blythe. No one to mourn her except for Brielle. It should have been unsettling or hurtful, but it only served to remind her of what was important at the end of the day. That certainly wasn’t the man before her.
“I’m here!” Brielle’s melodic voice called.
The sea of servants parted for her like the garden flowers to the breeze. That was always the way of her. She may have been prone to illness, but her kindness and radiance were like a beacon in the night. None could deny the beauty of her, inside or out.
“Father,” she smiled as she wrapped her arms around Lord Treveon, “what a special surprise to have you home.”
Gone was the man-made of iron, and there stood a father. Like everyone else, he bent to Brielle’s will. Embracing her, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. For a few breaths, Luci forgot what it meant to have enough. For a few moments, she wondered what it would be like to be loved like that. Then she remembered that she had more than most ever had, and that was a comfort all on its own.
“You look well, sweetheart,” He said, running a large hand over Brielle’s cheek.
There was a gentleness to the lord that no one else was capable of pulling from him. Only Brielle. She was the only thing outside of his ambition that ever found a way through his armored exterior. It only served to stoke a fire within Luci’s chest because he didn’t deserve the love shining back in her eyes. Brielle would have done anything for her father, even if it meant crawling on broken bones to him, but she would always come second to him. Blythe and his ambition would forever be his priority.
“I’m feeling wonderful. Won’t you come inside and tell me all about court?” Brielle asked, threading her arm through his.
Something strained passed over his tan face, but it was there and gone before Luci could decide what it meant. Even still, her heart beat a little faster. Something was happening, and she had the distinct sensation that everything was about to change. Maybe that was dramatic, but it was a knowing as strong as when she knew Brielle was about to take a turn for the worse. In twenty years, she had never been wrong about when the feversand the shakes would find Brielle. It was a knowing that had no explanation.
“Yes, yes,” Lord Treveon said, “Mrs. Blakesley, have tea brought into the drawing room.”
Servants bowed as the Treveon family drew up the steps and into Blythe. Luci followed a fraction behind, debating. It was no secret that Lord Treveon disdained her presence. He had always looked straight through Luci and found her wanting even when she was five years old. The only reason he tolerated her was that he was gone to court at every possible moment and because it was the only thing Brielle had ever asked of him.
As Luci stepped into Blythe, she was struck by the foreign beauty. Marble and the finest craftsmanship money could buy decorated its walls. Much like the carriage had been, it was a symphony of white and blue with gold filigree to boast its wealth. The winding staircase was the focal point of Blythe, with its shimmering steps and wide steps.