by Leah Conolly
He left her standing next to a puddle of tea in the grand hall. Her days of thinking she could tell him what to do were over.
Chapter 19
Christopher got out of the coach and straightened his coat as he walked to Lydia’s door. He swallowed nervously and knocked. A maid quickly answered and showed him into the drawing-room.
"My lady will be down presently. May I offer you anything, my lord?" she asked.
"No, thank you," he said. He sat down, wiping the palms of his hands on his trousers. A few minutes later, Lydia appeared, dressed in a white silk gown.
He stood, his mouth nearly dropping to the floor. Her hair was pulled back with a few curls framing her face and a string of pearls graced her slender neck.
She turned. “I hope I am presentable?"
He stuttered and then managed, "Yes, very much so." He stepped forward. "You will be the most beautiful woman at the ball."
Eleanor followed, pushed by her maid. "And what about me?" she teased.
He laughed. "You will both make every woman jealous."
The maid pushed Eleanor to the front door. Lydia turned to him. "Thank you for letting her come along. I couldn't bear for her to miss out, and it's good for her to socialize."
"It is my pleasure," he beamed down at her. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say. Lydia was the first woman he had ever escorted to a ball.
"Shall we?" she asked, motioning towards the door.
"Of course," he said, following her out of the drawing-room and into the foyer. Eleanor had her wrap on, and one of the footmen was following her out to the carriage to help lift her into it. Christopher helped Lydia with her wrap, and they followed Eleanor out to the coach.
Christopher helped Lydia in after Eleanor, his hand tingling at the touch of her palm in his.
They passed the short drive to the Hawthorne estate speaking of the lovely weather and their expectations of the evening ahead. Christopher simply listened to the ladies' excited chatter. As an only child, he had never had a first-hand look into a sibling relationship.
"Allow me," he said when they arrived. He helped Eleanor out of the carriage and carried her up the steps to the house. He placed her gently in her wheelchair and then went back to help Lydia out of the coach.
"Thank you for being so attentive to Eleanor. I appreciate it," Lydia said as he handed her down from the carriage.
"I thought she would like that better than being carried in by the footman," he replied.
"I'm sure of it. She so hates being an imposition to the servants, even though I have told her countless times that they do not mind. She has been working hard to regain the use of her legs. Only time will tell if she is able," Lydia said as they walked up the steps and into the castle.
"If anyone is able to do it, it is Eleanor," Christopher said. He believed it, too. From what he had seen, Lydia and Eleanor were two of the strongest women he had ever met.
The castle was alight with candles and music and the air seemed to crackle with excitement. Christopher smiled at Lydia's childlike awe as she took in the ballroom around her.
"May I have this dance?" he asked as they walked into the ballroom. He did not want anyone else snatching her up before he had a chance to dance with her. With the way she was looking tonight, every man would be falling over himself for an opportunity to talk to her, let alone dance with her.
"You may," she said. She took his offered hand, and he felt like the most fortunate man in the room as he led her to the center of the dance floor.
He watched a blush crawl up her cheeks as he placed one arm around her waist and held her hand in his. The color only made her more attractive. She looked up into his face with those deep blue eyes, and he felt his heart skip a beat.
"You are an excellent dancer," she complimented as he whirled her around the dance floor in a waltz. "In your last letter you said you did not dance."
"I said I do not dance. I did not say I don’t know how." Christopher smiled down at her.
"I do believe you are more of a romantic than you care to let on," she replied. He liked the way she teased him.
"Lady Lydia, you have not seen the worst of it yet," he said. He whisked her around the ballroom, enjoying her smiles and laughter. She was truly the belle of the ball.
When the dance ended, Christopher saw Eleanor talking to a gentleman. Lydia seemed pleasantly surprised and said they should not interrupt them as the two seemed to be getting along nicely.
"I am happy to see her mingling. She usually spends the evening in some corner or other talking to our maid," she said. Lydia suggested they go in the opposite direction for some refreshments.
After he’d got them each a drink, he suggested they go onto the portico and talk for a while.
"That would be lovely," she said. It was already growing warm in the ballroom as more and more guests arrived. They found that several young couples had the same idea, but Christopher did not mind. He only had eyes for Lydia.
"I commend you on your attentiveness to your sister. Many ladies your age would see it as a hindrance rather than a blessing to have to care for a younger sister so fully. She is fortunate to have you," he said. He clasped his hands behind his back as they strolled in a leisurely fashion across the portico.
"Thank you. I must admit it has not been easy. I have looked after her for so long. When our mother died, I became an honorary mother to her, I suppose. After her accident. . ." she shook her head." Well, I could not leave her to fend for herself."
“Surely she has your father as well?" he asked. But the one time that Christopher had met their father, he had noticed the man was not as attentive as he ought to have been.
"He has not been himself since my mother's death, suffice to say. I hope to take Eleanor with me when I marry."
This was news to Christopher. He was not sure how he felt about Lydia bringing a crippled sister along with her when she married, even if he really liked Eleanor. It was such a big commitment! It was almost like inheriting a child from a previous marriage. Eleanor would have to be cared for the rest of her life, as she would most likely never find a husband. He stayed quiet for a moment, taking it all in.
She seemed to notice his silent reflection and stopped. "You think that is wrong?" He could hear the fear in her voice. He had to admit that it would not be hard to take on Eleanor as a dependent if he and Lydia were to marry. He viewed her as a sister already, and they had an easy relationship.
"No. I think you are incredibly strong for the way you love your sister. You and Eleanor would brighten any home," he said. She smiled. The crisis was averted for now, but he would have some weighty thinking to do in the days and weeks ahead. He was already falling for Lydia, that he could no longer deny. They stopped at a window that looked in on the ballroom.
"She looks happy," Lydia commented. They could see Eleanor, still conversing with the gentleman.
Perhaps Eleanor would not be taking her sister with her after all.
***
"I don't like it. I don't like it one bit!" Christopher's mother whispered to her husband as she watched her son leading Lady Lydia through the ballroom. Lady Diana had told her a plethora of rumors about Lady Lydia, one of which was that her father's fortunes were next to nonexistent. She must be gotten rid of quickly.
"You have been telling the boy to get married for the last few years, my dear. Why have you suddenly changed your mind?" Victor asked.
"I have not changed my mind!" She whispered harshly, even though they were in little danger of being overheard in the noisy ballroom. "I just think that Lady Lydia is an unsuitable choice. Have you not heard that her father is virtually penniless? She is only attaching herself to Christopher for his money and position," she argued.
"And you think Lady Diana any better? I have seen the way she looks at Christopher. Like a cat getting ready to pounce," Victor snapped back. "I know Lydia Baker and her sister, and they are not the type to go about husband-hunting. You know Eleanor
, as well. Don't tell me you think her sister capable of doing such a thing," he said.
"You care about them more than you care about your own stepson," she accused.
"You know that isn't true, but you are correct in thinking that I care for them. I do not think I could love my own daughter more if she had been lucky enough to have survived to adulthood."
Lady Clarksons' mouth hung open as Victor stalked away angrily. She huffed and went in search of Lady Diana and found her standing with her mother and a few young gentlemen.
"Ah, Lady Clarkson, how good of you to join us," Lady Diana said.
"I am sure you have seen with whom my son is spending all his time?" Lady Clarkson said.
"Indeed. I had not realized they had become so intimate,"
"You must do something if you are to catch him. He does not know what he is doing. You were right to warn me about her. She has bewitched my son, and he does not know what he is about. I will not have that little temptress get her claws into my only son!"
"Fear not, Lady Clarkson. All is not lost," Lady Diana said. She nodded towards her mother and squeezed Lady Clarkson’s hand as she moved towards the portico through which they had all watched Christopher and Lady Lydia depart.
"Do not worry yourself, Lady Clarkson," Diana’s mother replied. "My daughter has the situation well in hand."
***
"Lady Lydia, I did not know you would be here tonight," Diana said as she came up to Lydia and linked arms with her. Lydia would have pulled her arm away if it would not have embarrassed them both in front of so many people. She did not like Diana Horn, but she was not going to make a scene.
"Yes, here I am," Lydia replied. She looked around for Christopher, who had gone to replenish their drinks.
"And quite the star of the evening," Lady Diana said. Lydia raised an eyebrow. Diana had never been particularly kind to her.
"What do you want, Lady Diana?" she asked.
"Nothing! Walk with me, that is all I ask. A moment of your time." Lady Diana led her out of the ballroom and into the great hall.
"I should not leave the ballroom. Lord Beaumont will be wondering where I am," she argued as Lady Diana nearly dragged her out of the room.
"I want to apologize," she began when they came to a quiet corner near one of the windows. Lydia perked up at this. The last thing she was expecting was an apology.
"Very well," Lydia replied. "Go on."
"I have been terribly rude to you and your friend Patricia. There is no call for it, no excuse I can give other than childish jealousy. I hope you can forgive me," she said.
Lydia paused for a moment before answering. Diana seemed genuine, and Lydia did not like fighting with anyone. "Of course, I forgive you," Lydia replied with a slight smile.
"Then may we be friends?" Lady Diana asked.
"Indeed, we may," Lydia smiled warmly.
"Good! Oh, you don't know how happy you've made me, Lady Lydia. May I call you Lydia?"
"Yes, I . . ."
"And you must call me Diana. I do not have very many friends my age. I hope we will be able to turn over a new leaf and become intimate. And now, we should get you back to your escort," she said. She linked arms with Lydia once again and led her back into the ballroom.
Christopher was waiting for her and looked as though he was wondering where she had disappeared to. When Christopher saw Lady Diana with Lydia, he was immediately put on guard. Gone was the sweet demeanor that he had worn all evening. He now wore a mask of anger and mistrust.
"There you are," he said through clenched teeth.
"Yes, Lady Diana insisted on a short walk," Lydia replied.
Christopher handed her a glass of champagne, and she went to stand at his side. He offered her his arm, and she took it gladly.
"What do you want, Lady Diana?" he asked, his voice steely.
Lydia gave his arm a slight squeeze. "Lady Diana and I had a lovely talk. And now, if you will excuse us, I believe you asked me to dance this next one with you?" she asked Christopher.
"Yes, I did indeed. Good evening, Lady Diana," he said. They placed their glasses on one of the side tables and then went out to the ballroom floor.
"What did you two talk about?" he asked, anger still laced through his voice.
"She apologized, believe it or not," Lydia replied, smiling up at him.
"I choose not to believe it," he said coldly. Lydia shrank back from him.
"She seemed genuine enough," Lydia replied.
"I'm sorry," he said, pulling her closer. His tone softened. "I did not mean to sound cross with you, but I do not trust her. She is a scheming little vixen."
Lydia nodded. "We have not gotten along in the past, but she apologized for her behavior and asked if we might be friends from now on."
Christopher raised an eyebrow. "That is all very well, but I still would not trust her if I were you."
"I will be careful." She smiled. "But let us not allow her to ruin the rest of our evening.”
His angry mask dissolved into a smile as they continued through the dance. The rest of the evening was lovely. They danced and talked with friends. Lydia was surprised by Eleanor. The young man she had started talking to at the beginning of the ball had stayed with her throughout the night.
At half past one o'clock, Lydia asked that they be taken home. Their father would not like that they had been out so late. Christopher again helped Eleanor into the coach, carrying her down the steps himself. Eleanor was all smiles, chattering away about the handsome gentleman. He had “come to her rescue” and not let her spend the evening alone.
"Who is this handsome gentleman? What is his name?" Christopher asked.
"His name is Colonel Samuel Jacobs, and he is the second son of the Earl of Greystoke," she replied.
Lydia raised her eyebrows and smiled. "A Colonel? Well, he seemed very kind from what I could see."
"He is the perfect gentleman," Eleanor gushed.
"We will have to meet him soon. I have heard of Lord Jacobs' son. He is a worthy man and a lucky one if he has found himself in your good graces," Christopher said.
"He certainly has," Eleanor beamed.
Christopher helped her sister into the wheelchair, and the maid pushed her inside. Their father was waiting for them at the door.
Christopher helped Lydia down from the coach, his hand lingering on her waist. She caught her breath.
"Thank you for escorting us to the ball. I had a wonderful time," she said as they walked towards the house.
"The pleasure was mine." He bent to kiss her hand. "Good night, Lady Lydia."
"Good night, Lord Christopher," she replied.
She waved as he got back into the carriage and drove away.
"How was the ball, my dear?" her father asked.
"It was a lovely evening, Father, but I am exhausted. May we continue this conversation in the morning?" Lydia asked. She was not in the mood to be prodded by her father. She wanted to have a good sleep and enjoy the afterglow of her splendid evening.
"Of course, dear. Sleep well," he said and returned to his bedroom.
Lydia went to her sister's room before heading to her own, to make sure she was settled for the night.
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself tonight," Lydia said as she came in. The maid had helped Eleanor into her nightdress and was smoothing the covers over her legs.
"Oh, Lydia," Eleanor gushed, reaching out her arms for her sister. Lydia grasped her hands and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm in love!"
Lydia laughed at this. "Love at first sight, is it?" she teased.
"I'm serious, Lydia. I'm going to marry Colonel Jacobs. I can feel it," she said moony-eyed.
Lydia stopped. She did not want to crush her sister's hopes, but she also did not want her to get hurt. She determined to say nothing for the time being until she had had a chance to meet Colonel Jacobs for herself.
"I am happy for you. And now, we should both get some sleep," Lydia said. She kissed her sis
ter's forehead and stood.
"Good night, Elle."
"Good night, Sister."
Chapter 20
Lydia awoke the next morning, a smile already on her face. She stretched her arms above her head and let out a long, contented sigh.
The ball the previous evening had been better than she could have ever hoped.
She and Christopher were growing closer, and she felt they had a chance at being happy together. For the first time in weeks, she did not feel a heavy burden on her shoulders.
