by Tessa Candle
Tilly scoffed. “I have not told her outright that she should accept him, but I believe I have been, at least, encouraging. She has been through a great deal, you know. I think it is wiser for her to take a little time to make such an important decision, although it is clear that she adores him.”
Tilly slid up her corset and began to do it up lightly in the front.
“Yes, that is obvious. And it is reciprocal.” Rutherford grimaced. “Frankly, I find his mooning about like a love-sick puppy slightly revolting.”
Tilly laughed at him. “I know precisely what you mean, Mr. Pot. Mr. Kettle is looking rather burnt about the arse. At least Lydia is not so boring, we have plenty of conversations about other things.”
“Indeed?” He was a little distracted by watching Tilly twisting the corset round again so the laces were in the back, then shifting all the pinched spots back into place. She threw on her slip and stepped into her dress.
“There I am done, will you fasten my dress in the back, now?”
He sighed heavily, but complied. He wished she had asked assistance with the corset, as he tied the looser constraints of the day dress.
He kissed her shoulder and said, “I am sure he will get a hold of himself when he is back in town and engaged in his regular activities. Out here he scarcely has anything else to dwell upon.”
“True, and that may be soon. The London doctor said Lydia may be removed to town in a few days, if it is done slowly.”
Rutherford frowned. “I cannot say I am thankful. What will happen to our little tête-à-têtes when we leave this place?”
“You are a single man with a large house in London.” Tilly straightened his hair. “And I am an engaged woman living in London with significant resources. I am sure we shall get on quite well. Now, can you not put some trousers on, my darling stallion?”
Chapter 55
Aldley sat in the gloomy light of the breakfast room. It was a rainy, grey day. The dome of his head was cracking like the egg of some hellish beast. And the fledgeling claws of a headache were scratching about inside his skull. Sleepless nights were taking their toll.
He was glad to think they would all be leaving after breakfast. A return to London would at least distract him from his suit of Lydia, which was proceeding ambiguously. What was worse was that she seemed entirely unromantic, and focused solely on the business side of the marriage.
According to her father, Lydia was adamant that the settlement of fifty thousand—a much larger sum than he had expected—should become available to her immediately upon their marriage. Aldley had not the least objection. But why was she so insistent?
Lydia entered the breakfast parlour and she smiled so brightly at him that he thought the sun had finally come out. “Thomas! Good morning.”
“Good morning, my angel. Did you sleep well?”
“To be honest, no. I find my sleep quite disturbed.” She lowered her eyelids slightly.
“I suffer the same fate, I am afraid. But you could improve things if you would just consent to marry me, instead of leaving me hanging.”
“I am sorry to hear of your discomfort. My own sleep disturbances proceed from an entirely different quarter.” She cocked her head and smiled at him.
“Oh really?”
“Yes. I cannot stop thinking about our little discussion the other day, in which you were not left hanging at all, except perhaps at the very end of things.” She sniffed at a weedy looking flower in a vase on the table, and looked up at him over the petals.
“Careful, my dear.” He could feel himself hardening at the mention of it. Though he was, in part, thankful that they had not had much time alone since, he was also frustrated by it. They would have a very enthusiastic honeymoon, if he could just get her to marry him.
“I do not want to be careful.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “I want to further explore the topic of our conversation.”
He stepped close to her and put an arm around her waist, pulling her in for a deep kiss. When they both emerged, breathless, he thought there would be no way of concealing his arousal should someone enter the room.
He tried to mentally calm himself. “I think you know what you have to do if you want to peruse the finer details of that topic.”
“Marry you.”
“Yes. And honestly, why not? You know that you must, now, anyway.”
“I do not think I must, exactly. And in any case, clearly it is possible to indulge in such subject matter without matrimony.” Her smile was now openly wicked.
“This is a scandalous line of talk.” Aldley tried to suppress his own grin. “I hope you are not proposing—”
“A counter offer? Not exactly. I was just pointing out your false assumption. In any case...” She played with the hair around his collar. “There really is only one impediment to our marriage, from my perspective.”
“And what would that be?” He stared into her eyes, searching.
“I am not certain that you would be willing to give me the freedom I need.”
“I have no wish to oppress you. Surely you do not think that of me.”
“I mean the freedom to conduct my own business.”
He rubbed one temple with his thumb. “You mean to engage in trade.”
“More or less, yes. I do not plan on running the shop myself, but I do intend to own one, at a distance. And I shall be directing the business, but discreetly. Can you accept that?” Her green eyes sought out his own, and fixed him with a look of earnest inquiry.
“I do not know why you are so stubborn about this point.” He gave her nipple a little stroke through the fabric of her dress. “When we marry, you will have a large settlement that you may invest, and extremely generous pin money, above and beyond your personal expenses. I shall give you anything you ask for. It simply is not necessary for you to begin hawking wares on the street.”
“You assume I am doing it out of a desperate motive, but I am not. It may be hard for you to understand, because you are a man and you have always had your freedom. But try to imagine what it is like to be a woman, to be expected to sink your time into pointless activities to show your merit, instead of being able to prove yourself on the same playing field as others—as men. Would you not find that frustrating? Would you not long to build something for yourself?”
He kissed her hand. “I can understand your motives. I even see them as quite elevated. But you would be the wife of an earl, hopefully the mother of an earl. Society is just not ready to accept that the upper classes, particularly women of the nobility, should engage in certain activities.”
She lifted her chin. “I reject the chains they would put me in.”
“Then they will reject you.” He shrugged.
“I do not care for their acceptance, but you are assuming I am incapable of being discreet. If I am a rich countess, and the business is conducted by my trustee, will anyone look too closely?” She raised a brow. “Will they not prefer to be on friendly terms with us?”
“No doubt, but everyone has enemies. You should also consider how your actions might affect the prospects of your children.” His hand moved involuntarily to her stomach.
“I am thinking of them. How many noblemen do you know of, who scarcely can keep their fires burning and their household supplied with candles, because of their parents' mismanagement, and because they lack the wherewithal, and the gumption, to earn anything for themselves?”
He sighed. “I know enough of them. But our children,” he pulled her close again and looked into her eyes, “one of which you could now be carrying, I might add, will never want. I have not frittered away my fortune. In fact, I have added to it.”
“So you see?” She looked up at him, hopefully. “You know what it is to engage, perhaps even a little too closely for the ton's liking, in making your own money. You are not one to rest on your laurels. Can you not understand why I should want that for myself?”
“I can.” He kissed her hair. The smell of violets made his
heart pound. “And if anything it makes me love you more, for you are a true rarity. You are so precious. All I want to do is to take care of you, to protect you, to love you and our children. But I can see you will have your own way. And since I clearly cannot resist you,” he took in the curve of her breasts with his gaze and gave her bottom a squeeze through frustrating layers of fabric, “I suppose I must comply with your most unreasonable demands.”
She rewarded him with her most dazzling smile. “Good.”
“But this having your way with a fellow and then refusing his proposal is bargaining in bad faith, you know. I cannot risk my child's future, after all.” He patted her belly.
“I think you are leaping to a wild surmise that there is any such offspring to begin with. But as long as you will give me my freedom, I am willing to comply with your most reasonable demand.”
“Are you saying yes?”
“Yes.”
He crushed her into him and kissed her for several minutes.
“Pardon me. I thought this was the breakfast parlour.” Mr. Norwood stood in the doorway with one bushy eyebrow raised and a paper tucked under his arm. Rutherford and Tilly appeared behind him.
Aldley beamed at Lydia's father. “It is the room in which your daughter has made me the happiest of men.”
“Oh thank God!” Mr. Norwood and Rutherford said at the same time.
“Indeed!” Tilly kept a straight face, but her eyes twinkled at Lydia. “After a kiss like that, you had better be getting married.”
Chapter 56
When Lydia was finally returned to London, she found herself stupidly busy with matters she considered unimportant.
If she was not being fitted for her trousseau, her mother dragged her off to this and that parlour to call on what seemed like their entire acquaintance, so that they might partake in the joyous news.
She had always found such calls tedious, but they had become even less interesting since her accident. She knew her mind had changed, and her tolerance for boredom was now quite low. But she also knew that she needed to master this internal dissatisfaction.
When she became a countess, social calls would be an important part of her future—though she would principally be receiving them, at first.
It was not something she was looking forward to, but on the other hand, as a countess and mistress of her own household, she would be much more able to be 'not at home.'
And there would be other benefits to marrying Thomas that would quickly chase away the ennui of receiving guests. She wondered how long they might honeymoon for.
Thomas and she had gone to call on Lady Goodram almost as soon as they arrived in London. They wished to give her the earliest news, to thank her for introducing them, and to personally hand her the invitation to their wedding, which was to be the following week.
Lady Goodram expressed her joy and announced that she would not miss the wedding for all the world, though it meant a tedious carriage ride to Nesterling, where the two planned to be married in the estate's small chapel.
But now, with all the social calls completed, Lydia intended to get down to business. She had a lot to accomplish before the honeymoon that would take her away from London. Tilly and she had planned an outing–though the true intention was a meeting with Miss Grey and their lawyers.
Tilly was right, one of the advantages of being an engaged woman was that she had more freedom. This was especially true because, having acquired for her mother an earl as a future son-in-law, Lydia could now do no wrong.
She could slouch, sigh, drink red wine or brandy and even openly discuss business matters with her father. Her mother only smiled sweetly and caressed her daughter's hair, giggling gleefully to herself. It was mostly pleasant and only faintly disturbing.
When Tilly arrived, Lydia was full of energy.
“You are looking radiant, Lydia. I believe engagement agrees with you.” Her friend was also looking especially fetching in a pale blue day dress and matching bonnet.
“I find it is rather good for the circulation. And the most trying part is over. I believe we have now finished calling on or entertaining anyone in London with whom we have the least connection.”
“Not quite. There is one more person you should call upon.” Tilly gave Lydia a mysterious look.
“Is that so?” Lydia was accustomed to her friend's love of the dramatic.
“Yes, but I shall keep you in suspense, for we must be off immediately if we are to be on time.”
When they were tucked into the rose and lemon-scented carriage, Tilly continued. “So do you wish to know who we should call upon on our way home?”
Lydia looked perplexed. “I have been trying to guess and I honestly cannot imagine.”
“It is my brother—mostly because we should talk a bit about the plans for improvements to the shop.”
“Yes, I suppose it is not too soon to discuss it with him, though I should like to have the builder present so we can discuss costs.” Lydia knew she would be coming into a great deal of capital soon, but she meant to be wise in her expenditures.
“Next time. The second reason we should call on him is so that you might wish joy to him and his new wife.” Tilly looked merry.
“New wife? He has married? Good Lord! A lot must have happened while I was sleeping.”
“If only you knew.” Tilly wiggled her brows.
Lydia shook her head in bewilderment. “Indeed, I did not even know that he was engaged.”
“It was a brief engagement, though the lady is someone whom he has admired from afar for some time. I believe he thought the case was hopeless and should never have proposed at all, except that an opportunity presented itself.”
“This all sounds quite romantic.” Lydia tried to keep a dismissive tone out of her voice. She still loved romance in her heart, but after much thought on the topic, she had decided that it often disguised a trap, especially for women.
“Oh it is, really.” Tilly squirmed happily in her seat. “They were married in the same little chapel where she was baptised. Is that not sweet?”
“Yes. As you know, that is also my plan. So I assume it was an intimate ceremony, then.”
“Quite, but I know such things bore you to tears, so I shall not beleaguer you with lengthy descriptions.” Tilly was very forbearing. “Suffice it to say that Frederick is radiantly happy and cannot believe his good luck.”
“So what was the nature of the opportunity which presented itself so propitiously?” Lydia could not help being curious.
“Well, I shall tell you, only you must promise never to breathe a word of it to anyone—in fact even we two should not speak of it after this, just to be safe.” Tilly's earnest face only inflamed Lydia's curiosity.
“Is it really as secret as that?” Lydia laughed. “But, very well. I shall add it to our growing collection of things to keep concealed from society. Do go on.”
“She was, you see, in a most difficult situation, having spent a great deal of time alone in a confined space with a man who could not marry her. Although nothing happened, if word of it had got out, she would have been ruined. But Frederick happened to be quite willing to ask for her hand to pre-empt any gossip and to save her reputation. Her brother, who is the head of the family, was also quite pleased with Frederick and found his easy circumstances a bounteous addition to an already compelling argument for their marriage.” Tilly looked a little too pleased with herself.
Lydia squinted suspiciously. “And is she happy? Was she willing to accept him?”
“Yes, only too willing. You know, a great deal of the consideration must have been expedience and prudence, but on the other hand she would not be the first young lady to find herself in love with a man who stepped in to rescue her when she thought all was lost.”
“You have a point, there.” Lydia nodded. “A great deal may be built upon a foundation of gratitude.”
“That is just what I think. In fact that is why I believe that cultivating gratitude by
helping people when they least expect it, or are most in despair, is a very good way to develop one's personal resources.”
“I suppose.” Lydia was not entirely convinced. “So is this lady some mysterious heiress he met in the Lowlands?”
“Not at all. In fact, you are acquainted with Mrs. Ravelsham, nee Delacroix.”
Lydia's face blanched. “Now I know you must be toying with me. You cannot mean that snake has married your brother.”
“Indeed she has,” Tilly raised her hands in a calming gesture, “and your reaction is why I thought it best to discuss it somewhere where we would not be overheard.”
Lydia glared accusingly at her friend. “You waited until we were locked in a carriage so I could not storm off. You planned this match. You were the only other person who knew about her carriage ride with Essington. This marriage is entirely your arrangement. Admit it!”
“I might have assisted Miss Delacroix out of her embarrassing situation. Oh come now, I could not just leave her with that beast of man. Who knows what might have happened to her?”
Lydia raised a brow and pursed her lips. “Essington is crippled.”
“Nonetheless, the ordeal and the risks were very real. As awful as Miss Delacroix was to you,” Tilly conciliated, “you cannot wish that upon another woman.”
“No, not wish it upon her.” Lydia scowled. “But I believe I should have been content to leave her to the fate that she brought upon herself by trying to destroy my happiness.”
“I do not think she was trying to destroy yours, so much as craft her own. That is a very different thing. I know that she did wrong, but in a way, she is the reason you are about to marry Lord Aldley. Can she not also have some small happiness?” Tilly's voice was pleading.
“No, she cannot.”
“And what of my poor, lovesick brother? Should he also have lost his chance at happiness?”
“I see you are trying to prey upon my sentiments, but it shall not work.” Lydia raised her chin. “I cannot believe that you have chosen that conniving witch over your best friend.”
