Lydia sighed and nibbled the end of her finger. ‘Must I?’
‘Listen to me, young lady.’ Millie put the jug down so emphatically the spindly-legged table she had chosen to be the recipient wobbled precariously. Neither of them paid any attention to it. Millie grabbed the handle of the jug impatiently until it steadied and then stood arms akimbo and glared. ‘Lydia Field, you have been brought up better than that. That man has called every day this last week. He left you a present and you haven’t even opened it. None of this is his fault and you know it.’
‘Well, if he hadn’t asked papa and…’ Lydia began. Lord, how pathetic did she sound? Plus, unbeknown to Millie, she had opened her present, looked at it longingly for several minutes, and then sadly parcelled it up again. It had taken a lot longer to pen the note she returned it with, thanking him but saying that, in the circumstances, she felt it was not politic to accept it. To accept such a beautiful token was not the thing to do. Deep down, Lydia accepted she wanted him to have chosen it for her out of love, and understood that was not the case.
He hadn’t replied, just sent it back to her. Was she merely being ornery for the sake of it? After all, he had been honourable and honest. Told her why they should marry and not coerced her into bed. Something, if she were truthful, he probably could have achieved with relative ease. She desired more. It might be said that it was a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, but it had never been Lydia’s.
Oh lud, I am contrary. The sooner she escaped London the better.
Millie put her finger up in the air. ‘Enough now. He’s a gentleman and now he is trying to do his best to resolve things and you just won’t even meet him halfway. Now get off that chaise, tidy your hair, and get down to the library.’
She did have a point, Lydia supposed, as she stood and stretched. After all, he needed to understand she had no intention of changing her mind, not even if he begged her. Something she knew was as likely as the moon being made of cheese.
‘All right.’ Her morning gown was only a little crumpled and her hair, except for a few wayward strands, still in its knot at the nape of her neck. She tucked those tresses into the knot and repositioned a couple of hairpins. ‘I can then return his present and not say a word. Mind you, propriety…’ she said. ‘You’ll have to come with me.’
Millie shook her head. ‘Oh no, you face this alone. Now off you go. This is your parents’ house so all is acceptable.’
More was the pity. Lydia smoothed down her dress and slid her feet into her pretty slippers, before picking his offering up with a pang that surprised her. It was beautiful and she loved it, but it was not fair to keep it. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘More like wish you sense,’ Millie said and snorted. ‘You need some. Now off with you before he gets fed up of waiting. And mind, be polite. Even if you want to spit in his eye.’
The last sentence was so unexpected, Lydia giggled.
Millie nodded happily. ‘There now, that’s better. Now remember, he’s only a man. Sleeps and snores like the rest of us. Has his own worries and fears. You’ll be fine.’
If only she knew that for certain. Lydia made her slow way downstairs to find Jeffries, her papa’s secretary, waiting in the hall. He smiled encouragingly. ‘The library, my lady?’
She nodded. ‘Evidently. Is his lordship still there?’
Jeffries inclined his head. ‘Reading the papers, he is.’
We must look like puppets mimicking each other. Lydia bit back the desire to nod again and walked across the hall and towards the library. She reached the door, smoothed her skirts in what she recognised as a nervous gesture, and pushed open the door.
Harry looked up as she entered and smiled at her before he stood, crossed the room, and kissed her hand.
‘All recovered I hope, my dear?’ Was there irony in his words? ‘Ready to face the world again?’
‘Not at all, just you if I must.’ Lord, how ungracious was that? ‘I mean, yes, thank you, much better.’
‘Oh, don’t spoil it, my dear,’ Harry said mockingly. ‘Show the backbone I know you have.’
She coloured, and he held her hand tightly. That tugged at her heartstrings even as her attitude tugged at her guilt. She really had to sort herself out.
‘Enough sniping. Come and sit down.’ He tugged her onto a chaise until she sat next to him, and his thigh, covered in exquisite, biscuit-coloured inexpressibles, brushed her skirts. ‘There, that’s better.’
No, that is worse. Good lord, she began to get overheated. The man was too much everything for her to be able to concentrate on anything except his nearness. Lydia bit her lip as her mind became a blank.
Luckily – or unfortunately – Harry had no such affliction. ‘Right, let’s begin again, shall we? I’m sorry you have been unwell. I hope you really are feeling better now.’
‘Not so much unwell as unwilling to get into a heated argument with anyone,’ Lydia said honestly. ‘My parents are well meaning but sometimes I think they do not know me at all. All I hear is I must wed you now it is common knowledge. Why? Who says so? And more to the point, just what is it that everyone bar me seems to know.’ There, that was straightforward enough, wasn’t it? ‘Not to put too fine a point on it, my… Harry, I feel hounded. Why should I do something just because it is expected? Especially something I said a very firm no to.’ She sat back in her chair and looked at him unblinking. ‘Do you know the answer? Because I surely do not. Oh, and I must thank you for you gift but I cannot accept it.’ She thrust a package at his midriff and he had no option but to take it.
****
He’d known it wasn’t going to be easy, but now, face to face – and thigh to thigh – with Lydia, Harry realised it was going to be a lot more difficult than he had envisaged. He was unprepared for the disappointment that rolled over him like the waves of the Channel near his Devonshire estate. She hadn’t even felt able to accept his gift. He slipped it into his pocket. He wouldn’t try to force her to accept it, not yet. In some unfathomable way, her refusal strengthened his will. Why had she refused it? Once he understood that, Harry got the impression life would change. Now all he had to do was fathom out how to get to that state of affairs.
Her scent surrounded him, teasing his body into arousal, and he willed it to behave. Absence certainly had made everything grow fonder. He tensed each muscle possible and willed his incipient erection to subside. Then and only then did he allow himself to relax.
‘I understand it’s hard and, believe me, if there were anything I could do to make it all go away, I would,’ he began carefully. ‘I know what you are thinking.’
‘Good, I’m glad you do, for I surely do not. In fact, I don’t know what to think at all,’ Lydia retorted tartly. ‘How nice to be a mind reader.’
He dipped his head. ‘Touché, my dear. However, before you ask why did I not deny the rumours, think about it for a moment. How could I, without seeming a callous cad? Especially as it seemed the rumours were indeed fact.’
‘Mama,’ Lydia said in a resigned voice. ‘She cannot keep anything quiet. I swear her cronies knew I was born before papa did, and he evidently was in the next room.’
Harry smiled. ‘That I could almost believe, because I fear it is all down to your mama. Having said that, I do consider your father to be truthful when he said she thinks to tell her few closest friends in strict confidence is not in fact gossiping or letting the cat out of the bag.’
‘Papa would say anything now to show her in a good light. And to get this b… bloody betrothal to be fact.’ Lydia shook her head sadly. ‘I think it was better when they both went their own way over everything and did not join together to thwart me.’
‘Would it be so bad?’ he asked softly, hoping against hope she would say no, not too bad at all. ‘To be my wife.’
He knew, of course, she wouldn’t, and she didn’t.
‘It would be more than bad. For I would need to be dragged to the altar against my will, kicking and screaming. Nothing
so far has shown me any reason why I should become a chattel.’ There was a wobble in her voice. He decided it wasn’t because she didn’t believe her words, more that she was reining in her temper. ‘Why does your family hound me? I have refused you and your bloody heir on numerous occasions. Is your motto tenacity?’
He grinned. ‘Almost. But chattel? Hardly.’ How could he tell her she was wrong when the law showed it to be true? ‘Not even if I promise it would not be so?’
She looked at him for what seemed an age. ‘How?’
‘My word,’ he offered sincerely.
Lydia shook her head. ‘It sounds good except for several things. One…’ She began to tick off on her fingers. ‘One, your word might be what you intend, but in fact, by law, what is it worth? Nothing at all. Two, I hate London. It’s been bad enough here as an unnoticed, single wallflower, but anything more? No, I thank you. I have no interest in being at the forefront of fashion or whatever it is called, and certainly do not want to be a recognised hostess. Three… no, let me finish… three, I do not want to wed anyone. Ever.’
Well, that told him yet again her mindset. Not that he had thought it would be any different. ‘This is where you’re supposed to say, but if I did, Harry, it would be you,’ he said innocently.
She stared at him and an unholy grin spread over her face. He mistrusted it.
‘Then, of course, if you wish me to do so, I will. After all, words are just that. So…’ She cleared her throat. ‘Of course, if I did, Harry, it would be you.’
‘But you wouldn’t mean it?’
She shrugged. ‘No. Well, in as much as you are the only one I have even been able to tolerate, I suppose to that extent it is true. But it is immaterial. Because I won’t agree. And tomorrow I am my own person.’
That was worrying, and as another message from Pugh had asked him to get his solicitor to look carefully at the manifest of his last shipment, Harry had other things to lose sleep over as well.
‘Lydia, my dear, everyone expects us to announce our betrothal on your birthday. The rumours are that that is what we are waiting for. Plus…’ Oh, how he wished he didn’t have to say it. ‘If you do not agree the rumours are correct by making it official, your parents will be mortified and hardly dare show their faces. Think what that would do to your mama.’
Lydia blanched. ‘That is rubbish.’ She jumped up and began to pace the room. ‘I will not be coerced by you, them, or anyone else. Lord, can’t you see how wrong it all is?’ she appealed to him. ‘I have not said yes. I will not say yes and this… this idiocy has gone on long enough. I will issue a statement myself and tell everyone it is so.’
‘You’ll ruin yourself if you do,’ Harry warned her. ‘As well as your parents. People will think you started the rumours yourself.’
She shrugged. ‘Let them. I do not care.’
His heart sank. ‘I do. Your parents would. If nothing else, think again how it would reflect on them. Yes, I know your mama started it, but even you have to admit she thinks she has your best interests at heart.’
‘By forcing me into something abhorrent,’ Lydia asked passionately. ‘Incredible.’ She swung around so violently her skirts rocked the firedogs. ‘Parental love is very strange.’
Harry stood up and stopped her pacing by the simple method of pulling her into his arms. Lydia glared up at him as she stood stiff and unyielding. ‘What?’
He tilted her chin up with one long finger and looked at her anger-filled eyes. ‘Ah, love, if only I had the answer you want.’
She sniffed. ‘You do, but you choose not to say it.’
Her tear-filled eyes and woebegone expression were too much. Harry pulled her closer and put his chin on top of her head. ‘Do you feel the world is against you?’
She sighed, but didn’t pull back. ‘All of it. Is it too much to ask for peace to do one thing on my own?’
He firmed his lips and then gave in to temptation to kiss her hair. ‘It’s our world, love. For good or bad we have to work with it, not against it. Although, I suspect together we could change it if we had a mind to. What say you?’
‘Oh, Harry, please don’t. I just want peace for a while. Life is miserable, topsy-turvy, and not conducive to thinking about anything except no. Just let me go, please.’
The door swung open and they both looked up as Lydia’s mama, followed by three of her closest friends sailed in. The Countess didn’t look one whit abashed.
‘Ohh, my dears, how perfectly exciting. There now, didn’t I say?’ She turned to her friends and the look on her face was triumphant.
Damn the woman.
‘Tell me, my loves, are we the first to hear it confirmed?’ she rattled on, without looking at her daughter, who stood with her face hidden by his sleeve, or at him, who, he was sure, had the poker face he was renowned for.
Lydia stiffened. ‘Careful, love,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘We’ll cope. Let me do the talking. Do not take umbrage as I appear to agree.’
‘So it seems,’ he said evenly. So evenly that the Countess reddened, opened her mouth, and shut it abruptly while her friends began to congratulate them. ‘You caught us discussing certain details, which until they are firm we will not share. Now I’m sure you will excuse us.’ He turned Lydia into him, so for all the world she looked like she was shy and overcome, and almost carried her out of the room.
Chapter Ten
On the spur of the moment, Lydia decided to slip out and purchase a novel to read on the long journey she intended to undertake. For once, she totally flouted convention and didn’t take a maid or a footman. Her mama would be horrified if she knew, and the ton would have no hesitation in labelling her flighty and worse.
She couldn’t have cared less.
As she wore an old and shabby-ish pelisse and a bonnet that shaded her face, no one gave her a second glance and she reached the bookshop unnoticed. Once inside the shop, with its unmistakable scent of leather and paper, Lydia’s tension slipped away from her like a discarded cloak. She slipped her bonnet down – the brim impeded her vision – and let her gaze feast on the delights in front of her. A happy half hour passed as she deliberated between the volumes on the shelves, and eventually picked one she thought should be light and entertaining, and another, which seemed darker. Between them and chatting with Millie, the journey should pass tolerably well.
Now all she had to do was return home, look as unhappy and unsettled as she had done recently, and wait until the appointed time to leave.
Sneak out like a thief. It was so annoying that she had to behave in such a way, but Lydia understood her parents well enough to know it was the only solution. She turned to go and have her books parcelled up but discovered her route was blocked. By a young man. Who, she realised with a jolt, she recognised.
She should have kept her bonnet on.
Lydia stared at the young man who barred her way. Surely he wasn’t going to cause a scene in Hatchards? Lydia nodded her head infinitesimally in the hope he would find some grace and good manners. He didn’t. He neither moved nor spoke, just glowered.
‘Excuse me,’ she said levelly. ‘I wish to pass.’
His eyes narrowed and he didn’t move. Her temper spiked. Even though he was dressed as any young man of the ton should be, something set him apart, and not in a good way. The wild look in his eyes, perhaps, or the fact that the petulant look she had noticed before was gone, to be replaced by something more adult and, not to put too fine a point on it, worrying.
Harry’s heir.
‘You look like a scullery maid.’
‘I thank you.’ she replied frostily. ‘Please move to one side.’
He stayed put. Those nasty spiders of worry began to make their presence known on her arms. It was one of the most unpleasant feelings ever. Why on earth was he behaving so abysmally?
‘I have heard you think you are going to marry Lord Birnham,’ he said in such a violent tone she jumped. ‘I think not. Not if you value your family.’
Lydia saw red. She was tired of being told what she was and was not to do. People needed to stop dictating to her and let her live her life. All the worry changed into annoyance.
‘What is all this about?’ she demanded. ‘I am so sick of your family trying to dictate to me and mine.’ She conveniently forgot her mama and her machinations. ‘I am marrying no one. Not you, not him, and not the man on the street corner. No one. Understand?’
He scowled. ‘Not him certainly, but me, definitely.’
‘You are mad.’ Lydia went to brush past him, and he barred her way by putting one hand on each stack of books. A very real, albeit tiny, frisson of fear skittered down her spine and she stiffened. He was not going to intimidate her. ‘Leave me alone or I will be forced to take action.’
‘I’ll get what I want,’ Jeremy said. ‘Wait and see.’
She didn’t bother to reply. After all, she wouldn’t be around much longer for him to cry out whatever threat he had intended to make. Lydia ducked under his outstretched arm, dropped her books on his feet, and swept past him, ignoring his howl of pain.
Even so, she realised the encounter had unnerved her.
Several hours later, Lydia snuggled into the soft fleece she’d found on the seat, tucked herself into the corner of the carriage, and sighed with relief as the vehicle moved away. Opposite her, Millie watched her mistress with concern in her eyes.
‘Are you sure you know what you are doing?’ Millie asked for the umpteenth time since Lydia had cornered her in her sitting room and said they were going that night, asking Millie to arrange a chaise north.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Lydia said as patiently as she could manage. Her heart missed a beat every time they heard another carriage or horses hooves. ‘You know fine well someone will come after me. I intend to try and stave them off until we are in Devon and settled, so to all intents and purposes, and according to the note I sent to Esther in strictest confidence’ – she rolled her eyes as she said the words – ‘I have gone to her Aunt Caroline’s in Norfolk until all the dust dies down. As no one will think to look for me there. Or so I explain. Esther knows me well enough to accept what I want her to reluctantly admit. That, indeed, I’ve said all along I was going there because my house will not be fit for habitation for several months. It is all sorted, especially with your input. I am so glad you have the sort of relatives you do. Who knew we’d ever need to ask for their help?’
The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia Page 15
