by Leah Conolly
Lydia laughed. “Are you quite alright, Maggie?” she asked.
Maggie closed her mouth and sat up straight. “Yes, my Lady. It’s just . . .”
“It’s just what?” Lydia asked, amused by the look on her maid’s face.
“I’ve never heard anything like that,” she said honestly.
Lord Beaumont laughed, and Lydia joined in. Maggie shook her head, still confused by the rapid-fire poetry and philosophy they had just exchanged.
Lydia took the last sip of her tea and sighed. “We must be going now. Thank you for an extremely educational teatime, Lord Beaumont.” She stood, and Maggie went to fetch her cloak.
He stood as well. “May I call on you some time, Lady Lydia?”
Maggie returned and placed the cloak over Lydia’s shoulders. “Good day, Lord Beaumont,” was Lydia’s only response. She curtsied and hurried out of the tearoom.
She risked a last glance back at Lord Beaumont through the window. He was still standing at the side of the table, watching her go. She turned and started down the road towards her house.
“Are you alright, my lady?” Maggie asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied. But she felt in conflict with herself, her thoughts confused. Lord Beaumont was hard to decipher. Why had he invited her to tea when he so clearly despised the idea of love? Lord Beaumont obviously had no feelings for her, so what could be his reasons for trying to spend time with her?
She did not have time for games. She had been tempted to accept his request to call on her. Unfortunately, she had promised her father that she would seriously pursue a marriage. And she already had two gentlemen who were serious about courting her.
She felt the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, but she would not cry for Lord Beaumont. She thought it would be best to forget him in order to protect her heart.
***
When Lydia arrived home, she was in for a big surprise. Eleanor met her at the door.
“Lydia, finally! Where have you been?” she asked excitedly.
“I told you I was going to meet Lord Beaumont for tea,” Lydia said as she took off her cloak. “What has happened? Is Father well?” she asked, suddenly worried that he had fallen ill.
“No, nothing like that. Lord Brussels is here to call on you. He’s been waiting for nearly an hour. You’re lucky I am so persuasive. He was about to leave, but I kept him here for you,” she explained.
“I don’t remember making an engagement with him today,” she said. “Is he very upset?” She could not afford to have him put out. Lord Brussels was a powerful man.
“Not in the least. He simply said that he would come back another day when you were available for callers. But I kept him talking about himself, and he was happy to stay,” Eleanor whispered as they walked towards the parlor.
Lydia checked her appearance in one of the hall mirrors. “How do I look?” she asked, tucking a loose hair into place.
“A bit flustered, but otherwise as beautiful as always,” Eleanor said. Lydia nodded and thanked her. She came around the back of Eleanor's wheelchair and pushed her into the room. Lydia stopped when Eleanor’s chair was parallel with her father’s and greeted Lord Brussels.
“Lord Brussels, I pray your forgiveness in making you wait so long. I had another engagement. Did we have an arranged meeting today? I do not recall.” Lydia curtsied to Lord Brussels. He was a tall man with a shock of white-blonde hair. His light blue eyes were framed by unnaturally long eyelashes for a man. He was handsome for a man ten years her senior, and infinitely dull.
“No, no. I came by quite unannounced. The fault is all mine. If you have other matters that need your attention, I can come back another day,” he replied, a charming smile on his face.
“Not at all. I am all yours now,” she said. Lydia instantly blushed, realizing that Lord Brussels might have thought her proclamation very forward, but he did not seem to mind.
She sat down next to him on the sofa and listened to a dull story about how one of his horses had thrown a shoe the day before. She was thinking of her meeting with Lord Beaumont, wishing she was back in the tearoom with him.
Their “war of the poets” had been interesting—and very telling. In a way she was glad that he had told her he was not interested in pursuing her heart. For a moment, she had allowed herself to believe that he had romantic feelings for her, but she realized that he was probably only interested in continuing their arguments.
Lydia turned her attention back to Lord Brussels, knowing that he would most likely be her future husband.
Chapter 13
“Insufferable woman!” Christopher cried. “Why is she playing so hard to get? What did I do wrong?” he asked himself.
He paced up and down his room. Since their meeting at the tearoom three days earlier, he had spent most of his time turning the events over and over in his mind. He had come away feeling in good spirits about their meeting. Lady Lydia's parting had been strange, but he put it down to nervousness on her part.
He had seen her once at the book shop since their tea together. She had seemed aloof and untrusting. Perhaps it was hurt that he had seen in her eyes, but he had been unable to get more than two words out of her during the whole time he had tried to engage her in conversation. She was so different from him. It excited him, but now he was unsure of how to break through the differences that separated them.
He had heard his mother speaking about Lord Baker’s financial difficulties. Perhaps she was keeping him at arm’s length because she was embarrassed about her family’s position? He knew her sister was seeing a physician, and that had to be costing them dearly. An idea was formulating in his mind. If he assisted them financially, then might she become more open with him?
He would have to send the gift anonymously, of course, but it was worth trying if the reward was spending more time with her. They hardly knew one another at all, but he was willing to try anything to remedy that. She had become the one thing that occupied his daily thoughts. It would not do for her to find someone else before he even had a chance to woo her.
He laughed at himself. Two months earlier he would not have thought himself capable of falling in love. Despite how hard it had been for him to admit it at first, he knew he was falling hard for Lady Lydia.
Christopher donned a coat, determined to visit the book shop in hopes of seeing her again.
He walked briskly to Newton and Hughes, whistling as he went. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. She was beginning to be a good influence on him already, it would seem.
However, when he entered the book shop, he was greeted not by Lady Lydia, but by rather the owners’ daughter. He tried not to let his disappointment show.
“Good day, my lord. May I help you with anything?” she asked, eyeing him warily.
“No, thank you, that is. . . No.” He replied, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. He looked around the shop, hoping to spot Lady Lydia in the back, putting books away. But she was nowhere to be seen.
“She is not here today, my lord,” the girl said quietly.
He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, walking over to the counter. “I see. Am I that obvious?”
She nodded but did not laugh or even smile. He had a distinct feeling that she did not like him.
“May I give you some bold advice, my lord?” she asked, coming around the counter.
“Do tell,” he said, intrigued.
"You may want to let Lady Lydia know how you feel about her. She is not the best at reading people and does not do well with guessing games,” she replied. She looked him straight in the eye, unafraid. “Being completely honest with her is the best hope you have of seeing her again.”
He was angry that she dared to speak to him in such a way, and the accusation that he was not being honest with Lady Lydia was offensive.
“You, miss, were correct. That is bold advice, indeed. I would appreciate it if you would never address me in that manner again,” he said, scowling at her.
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She looked as if he had slapped her, but quickly recovered and replaced her shock with a look of angry acceptance. “I do apologize, my lord.” She curtsied and returned to her place behind the counter. She did not meet his eyes as he bowed and walked towards the door. She did not say anything as he left the shop.
He jammed his hands into the pockets of his coat and walked towards home, disheartened and angry. What if the girl had been right? Perhaps Lady Lydia had told her that she liked him?
He huffed, realizing he had been too hasty yet again. The girl had been right. If Lady Lydia was going to learn to trust him, he had to be honest with her.
Christopher looked at the shop. He would come back tomorrow and try to see Lady Lydia again. He would adopt a slower approach this time, asking for permission to write to her.
***
The next day, Christopher was at the book shop as it opened, and, to his delight, Lady Lydia was also there. He had stayed up late the night before, rehearsing how he would approach her. He hoped that all his hard work would not be for naught.
“Good morning, Lady Lydia,” he said as he came to the counter.
“Good morning, Lord Beaumont. How may I help you?” she asked, her usual smile absent this morning. She did not seem surprised to see him, though. Her friend must have alerted her to the fact that he had been looking for her again. Upon closer observation, he saw that she had dark circles under her eyes. He wondered if she had had a late night as well, but he thought better of asking. Women did not take well to being asked such questions.
“It is not what you can do for me. Rather what I can do for you,” he said. He smiled at her and tried to be charming.
“Oh?” she asked.
He took out a small volume from behind his back and presented it to her. She took it, not understanding what he was doing.
“Do you wish to sell it?” she asked. “I’ll need to go and fetch Mr. Newton,” she replied and moved to do just that.
“No,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I found this book in my library last night and thought it would be more to your liking.”
“More to my liking than what?” she asked.
He fumbled around for a few seconds, not knowing how to proceed. He had thought she would be overjoyed that he had thought to bring her a book.
“I mean, I thought perhaps your sister would enjoy it. I know you both enjoy romance novels,” he said.
“Oh, yes. For my sister. That is very kind of you. I will be sure to pass it on to her,” she said, fingering the light green binding. She held it close to her heart and finally gave him a small smile.
“You can’t keep it,” he said, hurrying on. “I mean, take as long as you like to read it, but I will need it back.”
She smiled. “Of course. I will return it as soon as my sister finishes it. She is a fast reader,” she promised.
“You may like it as well,” he said, fumbling on.
She nodded. “I will find time to read it after my sister has finished. Thank you,” she said.
"Good. Good day," he said and hurried out of the shop. He nearly tripped over the door frame as the bell rang above his head. He heard her stifle a laugh. He looked back and was about to explain but thought better of it. He had made enough of a fool of himself for one day.
***
“Well, Christopher, how are things progressing with Lady Lydia?”
Christopher looked up to see his stepfather coming into the study.
Christopher had taken to retreating to his study after dinner, so he would not have to hear his mother’s many opinions about whom he should marry. Lady Diana was the prime candidate, in her opinion.
He set down his quill and offered Victor a seat in front of the desk. Victor sat down, and Christopher sat next to him. Christopher sighed.
“Not so well. Lady Lydia is a hard one to understand,” he replied.
“All women are hard to understand, my boy, but from what I know, she seems a true treasure,” Victor said.
“How long have you known the Baker family?” Christopher asked. He had forgotten that his parents knew Lydia and Eleanor.
"We became acquainted with them last season when Lydia had her debut. It was shortly after that that Eleanor had her accident,” Victor explained. “Eleanor is a sweet girl. It’s too bad that she will never marry.”
Christopher had never heard Victor talk that way about anyone. He had had a daughter with his first wife, but she had passed away when she was seven from scarlet fever. He believed that Eleanor was around the same age his daughter would have been if she had survived.
“Lydia is the family’s only hope now. I’m sure you have heard your mother talking about their difficulties,” Victor asked.
“Mother is a professional gossip. How could one not have heard?” Christopher laughed. Victor joined him, shaking his head.
“I know you and your mother do not always see eye to eye. She can be difficult to handle sometimes. But know that her meddling is out of love for you,” he said.
“I know,” Christopher sighed, “I have been thinking of how I might help ease Lord Baker’s difficulties. I have decided to send them some money, anonymously.”
Victor studied him for a moment. “What are you hoping to accomplish by that? I am all for helping our fellow man, and there are none so deserving of help as Eleanor and her family. They have not had an easy time of it in the last year. But I sense it is not just concern for Lady Eleanor that has you thinking of trying to ease their financial burdens.”
Christopher shifted nervously. “I have heard that Lady Lydia is looking for a husband, so that her father can pay his debts. I would like her to be able to marry for love and not for monetary gain.”
“Why don’t you marry her? You are plenty rich enough for the both of you, and then you could pay Lord Baker’s debts without having to sneak around behind his back,” Victor suggested. He smirked at Christopher's discomfort.
“I must confess that I have come to care for Lady Lydia, but she does not seem to return my feelings. I thought that if I were able to help them, she would have more time to find a husband that she could truly love.”
“Namely yourself?” Victor asked.
“Perhaps,” Christopher said. He was not ready to admit to his stepfather that he was falling for Lydia Baker.
“May I give you a piece of advice?” Victor leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
Christopher simply nodded. He had always trusted Victor to give sound advice, but now he was nervous about what he was about to say. Was there a reprimand coming? He knew that Victor viewed Lydia and Eleanor as honorary daughters.
“You must first be able to admit to yourself what you feel for Lady Lydia before you can pursue her in the way that she deserves.”
Victor let that truth sink in. Christopher nodded again. His stepfather stood and thanked him for the cigar. “Be careful with her heart, my boy. She means a lot to me. If you still want to help them, I would like to add to your donation.”
“Thank you, Victor. I’m sure they will appreciate it,” Christopher said.
“Lydia and Eleanor deserve some peace. They have not had an easy childhood,” Victor said. Christopher agreed with him. Lady Lydia had shared a small part of what they had been through, but he was sure that Victor knew much more.
“Good night,” Victor said as he walked out of the door.
“Good night,” Christopher replied. He went back to his desk and started drafting a letter to send along with the money. If he were correct in his suppositions, he would not have long before Lydia was lost to him forever.
Chapter 14
Lydia had made short work of the book that Lord Beaumont had lent to her and Eleanor. It had only taken her sister a few days to read it.
Lydia had also been eager to read it quickly, so that she and Eleanor could discuss it.
She was surprised that Lord Beaumont had chosen this particular book to lend to them. It was a romantic story th
at she was sure Lord Beaumont would think of as only “senseless drivel.”
She turned the next page of the novel and was surprised when a small piece of paper floated out and fell to the floor.
“What could this be?” she asked aloud. It must have been a bookmark, left by the person who had last read the book. She picked it up and saw a few lines written in the center:
“How many undervalue the power of simplicity.
But it is the real key to the heart!
-William Wordsworth”
