by Tessa Candle
“Yes, indeed, my lord. Only, I must beg your lordship to keep this all in confidence for the sake of my daughter's reputation. She was completely blameless. If only I had warned her. I never told her about the letter, you see. I thought that there was no point in embarrassing her, if I could just keep her safely guarded. But who could have known she would be unsafe while attended by friends and servants in Hyde Park in the middle of the afternoon? I know not what the world is coming to.”
“I am certain she was completely innocent. And you may depend upon my absolute discretion. However, I must know...”
“My lord?”
“I hate to leave so abruptly, but as you know, I have to attend my mother's ball three days hence. I had hoped that your daughter would also attend, if she can tear herself away from our invalid friend for a day's pleasure.” He winced at the bile that soaked into his voice.
“My lord, I apologize, but with all that has happened, the ball had completely slipped my mind. I shall remind my daughter of the engagement and send her back to London with her mother. True, Lydia would never dream of missing your mother's ball. I shall stay with Mr. Rutherford. I am not so worried about watching over her every moment now that Delacroix is bed-ridden. Yes, I am certain Lydia will be most anxious to take advantage of your lordship's kind invitation.”
“Has she mentioned the ball to you?” Aldley looked hopeful.
“No, my lord, but things have been rather overwhelming, just lately. And young ladies are coy. I am sure she thinks about it all the time.”
“I am sorry to do this in such a rushed manner, deeply sorry, but I must know, has Miss Norwood had any other suitors?”
“Em, no, my lord. Though I should never call Mr. Delacroix a suitor...”
“Certainly not. That is not what I meant. I meant... Forgive my directness. Has Mr. Rutherford asked for her hand?”
“Mr. Rutherford?! I should think not. No, indeed, my lord. I do not believe anything of that nature exists between them, and I hope he has not given your lordship that impression.”
Aldley frowned. “He did not say anything directly.”
“There, you see, my lord! It must be a misunderstanding. Lydia has been very concerned about his recovery, but so have we all. We are so grateful for his bravery. There is nothing more to it. I hope your lordship will not harbour misgivings about Mr. Rutherford. Truly your lordship must be mistaken.”
“I am sure you are right. Forgive me for rushing off, but I must return to London. I hope you will convey my warm greetings to Miss Norwood. Please tell her how much—” he emphasised the words, “I look forward to seeing her at the ball.”
Mr. Norwood smiled widely, both bowing and shaking Lord Aldley's hand. “We are all very grateful for the invitation, and approving of her attendance, my lord.”
Outside, Lord Aldley told the driver to waste no time and almost leapt into the remise. There was much to do and much to put in place before the ball. He was deep in thoughts of his plans, when he noticed the carriage lagging. Irritated, he poked his head out to speak to the driver.
“What is the matter? Why are we slowing?”
“There is a carriage in the ditch up here, my lord, and a young lady. I thought we should stop and check after them.”
“Yes.” Aldley could not conceal his impatience. “Of course. We cannot leave her. She might be hurt.” He knew it was uncharitable, but he privately cursed the endless interruptions of his plans by the problems of others.
Chapter 29
Lydia and Ari had both worked up a proper sweat as they swept along the north path.
How good it felt to ride, to smell the fragrant resin at the wood cutter's cottage, to watch the great trees fly past her until they were a lattice of green lace spinning off in the periphery. The path seemed to stretch ever onward, now in shadow, now in light, as though perusing a magical course to Faerie.
But the spell broke as they reached the main road. It required more cautious speeds, as there was some risk of meeting traffic. She slowed Ari to a trot and patted his strong neck.
Her problems, though unresolved, seemed so distant now. As she turned a sharp corner, she started at the sight ahead. A carriage sat in the deep south ditch, with another carriage behind it, pulled as much off the road as was practicable.
The carriage on the road looked like Lord Aldley's hired coach. It appeared to be the same team, too. Just then the earl himself emerged. A young woman crawled out of the capsized carriage and ran along the road with astounding haste for someone who had been in an accident.
She threw herself on the neck of the earl, who looked startled and displeased. When the earl made to disentangle himself, the lady's body went into a limp faint, so that he was left holding her up awkwardly as Lydia brought Ari to a halt before him.
“My lord, I am surprised to see you here.” Lydia was painfully aware that her hair must have utterly forsaken her bonnet and was probably impersonating Medusa's serpentine locks.
“I am surprised, myself.” Lord Aldley looked uncomfortable. “Particularly under these circumstances. Do you know this young lady?”
Lydia was about to deny any acquaintance, but when she looked into the face of the woman, it was all too familiar. “Why it is Miss Delacroix—sister to the viscount and Mr. Delacroix. What is she doing here, I wonder.”
“Perhaps she has come to the countryside to visit her brother.”
“Yes. Perhaps.” Lydia began to entertain suspicions which she thought prudent to keep to herself. Were Miss Delacroix eyelashes flickering?
She dismounted from Ari. “But she is rather out of her way, here. Surely we should lay her down in your lordship's carriage?”
“Quite.” The earl shook his head. “Yes of course. I am sorry I have lost my presence of mind, only I am surprised to come across this accident.”
He gave her a penetrating look. “And to come across you, here. And then to have this lady be someone of your acquaintance. It is all very odd...”
“It certainly is.” Lydia's eyebrow twitched involuntarily. “I cannot account for it. For where are her servants? Where is the driver? Surely she was not out in her carriage alone?”
“Yes. That is indeed strange, now that you mention it.”
They positioned Miss Delacroix as comfortably as possible across one seat in the earl's remise.
“She does not appear to be injured,” Lydia observed dryly.
“No, I suppose I should be relieved about that.” Then he turned to look into Lydia's eyes. “But at the moment I can only think how pleased I am to see you, Miss Norwood.”
She looked down, blushing. Surely he knew this was an awkward time to say such a thing. But she was so pleased to hear him say it. After everything he had seen, all the misunderstanding, he was still happy to see her. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him, lean against him, as Miss Delacroix had so recently done.
“In fact, I was just at Nesterling to call on Rutherford. I had hoped I should also see you. I spoke to your father... Are you coming to the ball? Please say that you are...” His eyes sought out hers, again.
“I... had not thought...” She blushed when she considered that he must now know the story of what really happened.
And yet, he was not shunning her. She realized it was not something she could discuss in front of Miss Delacroix, whose faint she found unconvincing. “I am sorry. With everything that has happened with Mr. Rutherford, I hope you will forgive me for being distracted.”
“Yes.” His jaw clenched. “But I believe Rutherford is well on the mend. Please say you will come.”
At that moment Miss Delacroix sat up and poked her head out of the carriage. “What happened? Where am I?”
What an inconvenient acquaintance the Delacroix family was turning out to be.
“You have been in an accident, it would seem. Where are your servants?” Lydia tried to sound sympathetic.
“Miss Norwood? What are you doing here? And where are your servants, I
might as easily ask?” Miss Delacroix did not seem confused. She seemed irritated. She then looked pointedly at the earl and fell silent, as though waiting.
Lord Aldley sighed. “May I ask you to introduce your friend, Miss Norwood?”
As they went through the absurd dance of the introduction, Lydia decided that the circumstances were suspicious enough that she would have to make sure she chaperoned Miss Delacroix until she could be returned to her brother's estate.
It was a hard to believe that any of her sex would set up such a situation just to make the acquaintance of an earl—or worse, to be compromised by one—but Lydia's recent encounter with Delacroix had left her in some doubts about the sister, too.
And her very first encounter with the earl suggested that he had this effect on young ladies.
Lord Aldley appeared irritated by the interruption, but agreed to lend the use of his carriage. Lydia suggested that it would be more proper for appearance's sake that Lord Aldley should to ride up top or upon Ari.
He opted to sit next to the driver—despite Miss Delacroix's protests that she would feel safer if he were sitting with her, and that it was not fitting for an earl to ride up top.
Ari walked sedately behind the carriage, untroubled by any of the human intrigues contained within it.
“So you were out riding alone on your horse, without servants?” Miss Delacroix's smile was thin and unsuccessful at hiding her irritation.
“Yes. I am in the habit of doing so, as none of the servants can keep up with us. Ari runs like the wind and no one can touch him. My home is not two miles from here.” She felt like adding, unlike yours.
Had Miss Delacroix actually feigned to be the victim of a carriage upset, just to meet Lord Aldley? Somehow the experience of having to struggle alone to save herself and Rutherford had drained the last dregs of her patience for the bland half-sentiments and bald-faced dishonesty of polite conversation with contemptible people. This would be a most trying journey.
“I see.” Miss Delacroix turned her gaze out the window.
“And how did you come to be riding in a carriage alone out here? You are a long way from Dunston Hall.”
“I must have taken a wrong turn. I cannot recall. Perhaps I hit my head in the accident.”
“Perhaps.” Lydia kept her doubts to herself. “We shall have you home to your brother's estate soon. I am sure that the viscount will want the doctor to examine you. And how is your other brother recovering?”
“I do not know. I think he is getting better, but he still spends most of his time asleep. I should mention that I had meant to call on you, to see that you were quite well.” Miss Delacroix gave Lydia a feline squint.
“I am, thank you. But I am not the one who has had an accident.” Lydia practised her sang froid.
“I only mean that I had heard there was some unpleasantness in town—in the park the other day.”
“Had you? I am afraid I do not know what you mean.” Lydia yawned and rubbed one eye.
“I heard there was an abduction.”
“Ah well, perhaps, but it is nothing that I have heard about. We have been visiting the countryside, however, so I have not heard much of the town gossip.”
“Only that is what I heard. That you were abducted.” Miss Delacroix gave a significant look over her shoulder, as if there were someone there who was in on the secret.
“That I was abducted? Well, I suppose the price of fast news is that one cannot always rely on its accuracy. As you can see I am quite well, safe on my family estate and not at all absconded with.” Lydia could not believe what she was hearing.
“I had thought my source rather good.”
“Well, there can be no better source than the ostensible offended party.” Lydia raised an eyebrow. “But I wonder who your source might be.”
“Oh, no one in particular. It is just what I have heard around town.”
“Well then, my account must be preferred to that of no one in particular, do you not think?” Lydia smiled with a poisonous level of sweetness.
“Yes, of course. I was only concerned that you were quite well. Such a shock would quite destroy my nerves.”
“No doubt, but as I have had no such shock, I find myself very well, thank you.” Lydia managed the sort of serene look that suggested she might have a sharp knife in her habit pocket.
“So you will be equal to rejoining society, then, to attend parties and balls...” Miss Delacroix would not give over.
“Yes, quite equal.”
“Well, that is good. I only thought that you might be concerned about how people will view this incident.” Miss Delacroix's lips flattened as if she disapproved of how lightly Lydia was taking the situation.
“There has not been any incident. Unless you mean that there is some stigma attached to having come across an acquaintance alone in an overturned carriage, and acting as her chaperone to return her to the care of her brother? If so, I am not sure anyone's reputation could meet such high standards. But if you believe it to be so, then perhaps you should be more careful about going out in your carriage on strange roads without any servants.”
“I dare say my reputation will remain intact.” Miss Delacroix did not sound entirely happy about this fact.
“Then I do not suppose mine can suffer harm from lending you assistance.”
“I only meant—”
Lydia interrupted the indefatigable débutante, “Now if someone has actually committed an abduction, such a perpetrator, and members of the perpetrator's family, their reputations would be in very great danger, once things were found out. Assuming, of course, that someone actually were abducted.” Lydia waved her hand dismissively, as if she greatly doubted any abduction had occurred.
“I imagine in such cases, the abductor and his family have little reputation to be concerned about.” Miss Delacroix was trying to distance herself.
“I should tend to agree that they have little character to begin with. But as for reputation, we shall see who they turn out to be.”
It was pretty rich for Miss Delacroix to sit and make insinuations about an abduction that her own brother had attempted. And doubly so when she was freshly caught trying to ensnare Lord Aldley.
Lydia was not sure which aspect of this grand hypocrisy most angered her. But upon reflection, she decided it was the lady's designs upon Lord Aldley that made Lydia fervently wish to drag her along behind the carriage by her well-coiffed hair.
Such pleasant thoughts made the trip slightly less drawn out.
When they delivered Miss Delacroix to Dunston, and had finished all the polite conversation and explanations necessary in returning a second errant sibling to the viscount's care, Miss Delacroix expressed her great joy in having made Lord Aldley's acquaintance.
She tried to persuade him to stay. But at the insistence of her brother that she lie down to await the doctor, she rather sullenly took her leave, claiming she would retire to her chambers with a meaningful look back at the earl.
Before he left, Lord Aldley took Lydia aside and said, “Now you have saved me from what would have at least been an embarrassing situation. It appears you cannot help saving all the young men around you.”
“I believe I know what your lordship refers to, but it would be well for us to remain silent on that topic, for the time being.” She felt a bit giddy.
“Yes, quite. But I hope you will come to my mother's ball and allow me to show you how grateful I am to you for saving me.” He moved closer to her.
“You would tempt me away from watching over your dear friend, my lord?”
“Your father said he would stay with him. Rutherford will be well cared for. And if you miss my mother's ball because you are attending Rutherford, think what the ton will infer from it...” He let the statement dangle and looked intently in her eyes, searching for something there. “Unless that is what you want the ton to infer?”
“Why no, it is not. If I may speak frankly, my lord, I am about at the point that I do
not care a jot what the ton thinks. But I do care about my friends and my family, and those members of my acquaintance to whom I have recently had occasion to grow closer. About them, and about what they think, I am very much concerned. It would trouble me greatly if any of them got the wrong impression about my feelings for Mr. Rutherford, to whom I owe much, and whom I shall always regard as a friend, but for whom I can profess no other attachment.”
“I believe that is frank enough.” He pressed her hand to his lips.
He stared in her eyes for several moments. “It is forward of me to say it at this time, in this unusual circumstance, but you could not have made me happier in your expression of platonic feelings toward my good friend,” his smile reached up to his eyes, “unless you were to express a preference for me.”
He moved toward her then, as though about to take her in his arms, but he stopped himself. “You must come to the ball.”
His voice resonated through her. He was standing so close. She could smell his scent of orange and leather and musk. His warmth reached out to her. She could feel it on her cheeks. She wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her closer still.
“Promise me,” he implored again. “For I shall not go, myself, unless I know you will be there. Say you will.”
She was almost breathless, and a warmth was spreading over her entire body. “I shall.”
He again moved to embrace her, then restrained himself. “I wish I did not have to leave you now. I wish I could see you safely back to Nesterling Lodge. But I have many things to attend to, and am already much delayed.”
He pressed his lips to her hand again. “Adieu until the night of the ball.”
And then he was gone.
The heat in her face was like a bewildering fever. Her thoughts spun about in such a flurry that she nearly missed hearing the rustle of a skirt around the corner.
Had someone been listening in on their private conversation? She was almost too elated with the earl's near profession of love to even care if Miss Delacroix or one of her servants were sneaking about eavesdropping.
And yet her heart was plagued with worry. Lydia's own feelings were obvious to her, but Lord Aldley did not know of the recent decline in her material circumstances. If he felt the same way as she did, it should not matter, but would it not be wrong to enter into an engagement under false pretences?
