by Dayna Quince
“That sounds wonderful, but entirely too bold of us. I will see you at lunch?” She gently pushed against his chest again.
He pulled back. “You’re sure you don’t want that bath?”
“I do want that bath but under different circumstances.” She started up the stairs but turned back when he didn’t follow.
“What is it?”
“I want you, Lydia.”
“I want you, too, Devon. We both know what needs to happen next. I’m putting my heart in your hands.” Lydia turned and walked up the stairs. She didn’t hear him follow, but she kept up her freezing trudge to her room. She was shivering by the time she entered and promptly rang for a maid.
Chapter 22
Devon reached his room and removed the rest of his clothing. He rang for a bath and donned his robe to keep the chill away. He hoped Lydia didn’t catch a chill from their hasty return in the rain. He smiled. If she did, he would be the only volunteer to nurse her back to health, regardless of objections. He was in the middle of toweling his hair dry when he heard a tentative knock on his door. He smiled to himself. “Did you change your mind about that bath?” He opened the door, expecting to see Lydia.
It was not Lydia.
“Lady Covington?” Devon said surprised.
“I’m sorry to intrude…”
She looked extremely uncomfortable as her eyes darted around the hall and into Devon’s room. He was thankful he had tied his robe tightly, or he might have embarrassed himself. Still, it was supremely uncomfortable to stand in nothing but a robe in front of one of the dragons of the ton, and mother to the woman one was seducing.
“May I be of service to you?”
“I’m looking for my daughter. Is she with you?”
“Uh…” Thank God she wasn’t. Had they been participating in the things Devon had begged for, this untimely visit would have been supremely mortifying. “We only just returned from our drive, I imagine she is in her room drying off as well. We caught a bit of the rain on our return.”
“Us, as well. I will try her room again, perhaps I just missed her.”
“Most likely,” Devon assured her. “Good day, my lady.”
“This might be an opportune time to talk with you, Lord Wilhelm, may I come in?”
Devon cringed inside. This was the most awkward moment of his life. “Certainly.” He stepped back and gestured for her to enter. “Please sit.” He gestured to the chair by the empty fireplace.
“You may close the door. What I have to say is somewhat private.” She sat regally in the chair.
Devon kept a blank expression as he closed the door and pulled the chair from his desk to sit across from her. He was utterly uncomfortable and now dreaded whatever it was she felt she needed to say privately to him.
“I realize our presence here is somewhat unusual. I have allowed Lydia to spend ample time with you un-chaperoned for a specific purpose. Do you know what that purpose is?”
“Yes, you and my parents wish us to be married.” Devon swallowed awkwardly.
“Things quickly became evident when you left my daughter’s room months ago. I wanted something different for her than the marriage I had, but I was depriving her of a chance I was too afraid to give myself. I saw something in you, something that you could give my daughter that would mean so much more than the marriage I had planned for her. There is a true meeting of the hearts between you, I can see that.”
Devon didn’t know what to say so he remained silent.
“But…I’m not blind to what is taking place here, and I must warn you that I will not allow my Lydia to be trifled with. I understand you are hurt by her actions and rightly so, but if you truly love her, as I suspect you do, please don’t dally with her. She has suffered greatly, as well, and if you are not intending to be her husband then stop playing her lover. I knew it would take time for the two of you to rekindle what you had before, but I cannot—in good conscience—stand by while you resume an affair with my daughter with no intent of asking for her hand. What is your intent?” She demanded.
She had remained calm throughout her speech, but Devon could sense the steel layer beneath her words. He still did not know how to respond. There was no sufficient way to explain the transformation that was happening between himself and Lydia. It was something that was evolving on its own, out of their control, like a blooming rose.
“I…I understand your concern for your daughter, Lady Covington.”
“But will you marry her?” she asked doggedly.
“I can’t answer that yet. I wish I could, but it’s rather complicated.”
“Pfft.” She waved at him as if he were an errant gnat. “Things are as complicated as we make them. Most of the problems of the heart we create ourselves, when the true answer is very simple. If you love her, marry her—if you don’t, let her go. I will give you to the end of the week, but then I draw the line. I will take my daughter back to the cottage. I won’t allow her to be hurt again,” she said vehemently.
At first, Devon was angry but something in her words hit home. His own stubbornness prevented him from going forward. Why drag it out? He wanted Lydia more than anything, and as his wife, nothing would keep them apart, nothing but him. He was his own enemy and the only thing standing in between them. He cursed himself. He couldn’t disregard the fact that he was choosing to ignore the question of marriage with Lydia by distracting them both with desire. He was avoiding the issue all together, but by doing that, he was starving himself of her. It was time to stop punishing himself and her.
They could never go back. The past couldn’t be undone, but nothing was stopping them from moving forward into the future. Nothing but him.
“I understand you, Lady Covington. I want nothing more than to honor your daughter.” He struggled with the next words. They caught in his mouth like a fish in a net—fighting for freedom. He needed to say it aloud, for himself more than anyone. These words meant the closing of a chapter and the beginning of a new one. Why couldn’t he just say it? He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Lady Covington.
“I do love, Lydia. I will marry her.”
Lady Covington beamed at him. “I’m so happy to hear it.” She sighed with relief. “All will be well now.”
Devon stood as she rose from her chair.
“I will leave it to you to tell Lydia,” she said as she strode confidently to the door and paused. “Make it romantic,” she said wistfully. “Lydia never let herself be wooed until you—give her something she will never forget.”
“I’ll do my best,” Devon promised. He saw Lady Covington out and closed the door softly behind her. He felt a little ambushed but shook it off. Another knock heralded his valet and footmen carrying buckets of hot water. He sighed in relief. Once the tub was filled, and he was alone again, he disrobed and stepped into the water. His mind was still recovering from his conversation with Lady Covington. How was he going to propose to Lydia? The idea made him feel a little giddy. It was such a strange notion, after all they had been through. He couldn’t help but remember how excited he was to marry her before she stomped all over his heart. How could he bring that back? It should be as if nothing had fallen apart, a moment she would never forget and not tarnished by the past they couldn’t erase. He had a lot of thinking and planning to do, and he would most likely need help.
Devon sat back in the tub and relaxed into the steaming water. Olivia would know what to do. She was the most romantic person he knew, and she would jump at the chance to help him propose to Lydia with all the pomp and fuss she deserved.
It was not long before it was time to join the others for lunch. He dressed and went down, feeling more invigorated and surer than ever. He had a plan—a very basic plan—but a plan, nonetheless, to propose and seduce Lydia. No more holding back, nothing but skin between them. He couldn’t wait to put it into action. He would need Olivia’s help, and the next step in his plan would be to get her alone so they could discuss it privately. If he were going
to surprise Lydia with a grand romantic gesture, he needed absolute secrecy from everyone involved.
He made it to the family parlor just as they were taking their seats at the table.
“Good afternoon to all. How was the trip to the village?” he asked the room at large.
“Short lived, I’m afraid. We made it down one side of the shops when Colton bid us return to the carriage before the rain started. How was your drive?” Olivia asked benignly. She looked expectantly back and forth between Lydia and Devon.
Devon noticed Lydia kept her head down and averted all eyes. “Superb. I took Lydia to where Colton and I used to frolic as boys.”
“I never frolicked,” Colton said disdainfully. “I ran, I climbed, and I conquered.”
Devon ignored him. “The trees we imagined as great hulking ships are still standing. The clearing looks just as we left it.”
“That sounds lovely, Colton, you must take me there,” Olivia pleaded.
“You really should. It will be an experience you will never forget.” Devon peeked at Lydia and could see the brightness of her cheeks as she continued to hide her face. He looked away and was caught by Colton’s questioning gaze.
Devon winked and took a seat between Olivia and his father. Across from him, Lydia sat between her mother and his mother. They served themselves slices of ham, crescent rolls, and picked from bowls of grapes, peaches, and strawberries. A footman stood by, refilling glasses of wine and lemon water when needed. The talk was banal, and Devon let his mind wander over his plans again.
“I could use your help in the study, if you are up to resuming some of your duties this afternoon.” His father looked at him expectantly.
“Certainly. We can start immediately after lunch.” Devon nodded. As the heir, he had taken over many of his father’s duties in preparation of eventually running the estate. It also gave him one on one time with his father, which he enjoyed, and alleviated his father’s headaches from the strain of reading the small handwriting.
His father clapped him on the back and returned to his lunch. It felt good to be returning to normal, to have his family surrounding him, and to know that shortly he would have Lydia’s hand in marriage. His future had never looked brighter, and he was eager to grasp it with both hands.
The rain had lessened significantly, but the sky was still a dull gray, and it was not inviting anyone to venture outdoors. He looked across at Lydia and wondered how she would spend her afternoon apart from him. She had recovered from her vivid blush and was now talking animatedly with his mother about her collection of painted fans.
He leaned over to Olivia and whispered, “I wish to speak with you privately. Come to the study after luncheon.”
“Why?” She frowned skeptically.
“Just do as I ask. I need your help with a delicate matter.”
She brightened. “Oh, how exciting.” She smiled gleefully.
Devon sighed and sat upright in his chair. His sister was entirely too enthusiastic now, not good when one needs to keep things quiet.
Everyone finished eating and parted ways. Devon, his father, and Colton met in the study, shortly followed by Olivia.
“What took you so long?” Devon frowned at her.
“I had to think of some excuse to leave. Mother, Lady Covington, and Lydia are all in my room discussing color palates and new drapes for the bed. I couldn’t just leave, and I can’t be away long, so be quick about it and tell me what it is you need my help with.”
Colton and Lord Lesley looked up expectantly.
Devon debated about divulging his plan in front of them but decided they could be trusted.
“I’m going to propose to Lydia tonight.”
Olivia gasped and covered her mouth whilst doing a little jig. “How romantic!”
“Congratulations, old chap.” Colton stepped forward and shook his hand.
His father did the same. “I could not be happier for you, son.”
“Thank you all, but it is still a secret, so don’t tell anyone yet. Olivia, I need you to enlist the aid of your most trustworthy servants to set the stage in her room.”
“Say no more,” his father interrupted. “I gather this proposal won’t be following the usual—appropriate—avenues, and I don’t wish to hear the details. I’m going to return home to fetch your grandmother’s betrothal ring for you to give Lydia. I should return before dinner.” His father exited, and Olivia spun in excited circles.
“Livie, please sit, you’re making me dizzy,” Colton bid his wife.
Devon smiled as he watched his father leave then continued, “As I was saying…” He sat down beside his sister on the chaise and gave her the details of his plan. Her eyes grew rounder and rounder as he spoke, and her smile grew broader and broader. By the end of it, she was teary-eyed and silent as a mouse.
“Well? What do you think?”
She sniffed and her husband offered her his handkerchief. She blotted at her eyes and wiped her nose before she looked at him again. “It sounds perfect, Devon. I’m so happy for you.”
Devon couldn’t hold back a smile. Tonight would be the best night of his and Lydia’s life, their second chance at a new beginning.
Chapter 23
Lydia watched the rest of the day pass in a small stupor. It was odd not to be with Devon since he had filled her past few days. It was normal…and yet not. After lunch, the ladies had discussed redecorating Olivia’s room, then they had taken tea in the family parlor. After a brief walk on the still wet garden paths, Lydia had gone to her room to rest before dinner.
She missed him. He was gone doing the things men do during the day, a milestone of his recovery, but it left her feeling disappointed. She tried to act like herself, but Olivia kept shooting her odd looks, and her mother’s incessant doting left her nerves frayed. With weary resolve, she made her way to the drawing room and entered to the chatter of Colton and Devon telling some risqué story that her mother clearly did not find amusing, although her lips twitched with a smile.
“There you are, dear. I was beginning to wonder if you had taken a tray in your room. Is anything amiss?” Her eyes skittered over Lydia’s abdomen. Lydia prayed no one else saw.
“I’m fine, Mother, I am sorry to have kept everyone waiting.”
“’Tis no trouble at all, dear,” Lady Lesley assured her. “We were just about to head down the hall. I can smell the roast beef already.”
Devon stepped forward. “Lydia, may I escort you in to dinner?” he asked charmingly.
Lydia smiled. Her heart lit up at the sight of him, and it took all her strength not to simply walk into his arms. “I would be honored.”
“Let us go about it then.” Olivia grabbed Colton’s arm and practically dragged him from the room.
Dinner was lively but casual as Devon and Colton shared more stories of their rambunctious boyhood. Lydia laughed until her stomach hurt, and her mother had imbibed more than usual, lending her a rosy glow about the cheeks, and a cheeky wit that encouraged the boys to misbehave.
Lydia was tickled to her toes. Never had she seen her mother so at ease. Her mother and Ann—as Lady Lesley insisted she be called now—took great pleasure in teasing Lord Lesley, until he too was rather red about the nose and cheeks and enjoying their verbal sparring.
After scraping the last of her crème brûlée from her bowl, Lydia sighed in contentment and watched the merry group with joy.
“Have you had enough?” Devon whispered in her ear.
“I think I’ve eaten enough to feed a regiment.”
He smiled at her, the kind of liquid and arrogant smile that promised he was up to no good, and that she would love every second of it. She hoped it was true. She wanted nothing more than for him to sweep her off her feet and carry her to his room. Shameful thoughts, yes, but after this afternoon, it was all she could think about. She felt a curl of heat in her belly as Devon continued to devour her with his eyes, and she boldly stared back. She was of the mind to wantonly te
ll him to come to her tonight or vice versa, but such a thing could not be said when the other guests were well within earshot.
“Did you enjoy your dinner, as well?” Her smile answered his in every way.
“Oh, yes, I shall have stored lots of energy for the remainder of the evening.”
Arousal heated her blood until it simmered inside her, each beat of her heart spreading the heat through her until her clothes felt heavy and uncomfortable. She hoped that was a warning that he would come to her tonight. She prayed for it.
“I think I will retire early after such a heavy meal.” With her eyes, she invited him to join her.
“Not likely, I promised our mothers that we would entertain them with a duet at the pianoforte,” Olivia broke in.
Lydia deflated. “Oh?”
“Once the gentlemen return, of course. I wouldn’t want them to miss the performance.”
“Why don’t we forgo cigars and port? What say you, gentlemen?” Lord Lesley said jovially.
“Excellent idea, Father. Shall we move on to the drawing room?” Devon stood from his chair, and the others followed.
Lydia watched in dismay as everyone but her looked forward to an evening of entertainment. She didn’t want to spend a merry evening with music and cards; she wanted Devon all to herself. She followed anyway, hiding her disappointment behind a façade of serene content.
She took her place behind the pianoforte as the mothers and gentlemen took their seats. Olivia sat beside her and set up a book of songs to play.
“What do you wish to sing? You are a lovely soprano, and I an accomplished alto so it shan’t be difficult to harmonize.”
Lydia nodded numbly. “I have no opinion one way or the other. We can play whatever you wish.”
