Willow Hall Romance

by Leenie Brown

  Marcus took Mr. Bennet to Woodhead Cottage and showed him where Lydia had been discovered, then the two continued on to Aldwood Abbey and after an explanation to his father about Lydia being missing and a time of discussion between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Dobney concerning Lydia, Marcus and Mr. Bennet returned to Aunt Tess’s house.

  ~*~*~

  “You were unsuccessful?” Aunt Tess, who had taken a position once again at the window, asked as Marcus entered the room.

  “I was,” said Marcus taking a seat. “I have no idea where to look next.” He ran his hands down his face as the desperation of the situation settled into his heart. “I had Mr. Abbot look for her at Mrs. Bell’s, but she was not there. Is there anywhere else she might have gone?”

  Aunt Tess turned from the window. “Mr. Harker’s perhaps. She was going to read to — ” she did not complete her thought as the noise of a horse and carriage caught her attention. She clapped her hands. “Oh, she has returned,” she said as she scurried from the room.

  Chapter 18

  Lydia took Mr. Ross’s hand and stepped down from his carriage.

  “Thank you for your help, Miss Lydia. I know Frank thought he could handle the care of both is sisters and mother, and I am certain his sisters would have been well-behaved, but I would have worried.”

  “And Susan would have been a hindrance as you did your work. She did not seem willing to let you do what you needed when you were in town.”

  He chuckled. “Indeed. I had hoped she would be more complacent to just wait quietly, but it is not yet a strength.”

  “I was happy to help,” said Lydia. And she meant it. She had not had such a pleasant time that she could remember. Reading stories on the great stump, foraging for bears in the garden, and attempting to catch fish in a net at the stream — with shoes and socks off and remaining dry — had been delightful, as had been assisting Mrs. Ross with her comfort. They had all accepted her as someone who was capable. It was a very singular feeling, and she knew she wanted to experience it again. Perhaps when she had a home and children of her own, she would feel that way again. She stood on the step and waved to Mr. Ross as he drove away.

  “Lydia,” Aunt Tess cried as she pulled open the door. “Come in, come in. We have been beside ourselves with worry.” She looked down the street. “Was that Mr. Ross?”

  The question startled Lydia. Of course, it was Mr. Ross. Had not her note explained that she would be at the Ross home until Mrs. Ness completed whatever it was that she was doing? Lydia had not paid particular attention to that bit of what Mr. Ross had told her, partly because there was a young girl winding circles around her father’s legs and peeking at her from under her father’s coat. “It was,” she answered.

  “I am so glad you are back.” Aunt Tess put an arm around Lydia’s shoulder and drew her into the house. “I only wish I had known where you had gone. I am afraid we have had people out looking.”

  Lydia’s hands stopped their work of removing her bonnet. “But I left a note with the lace.”

  “Lydia,” Elizabeth rushed into the hall. “Where have you been?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. Of course, it would be Elizabeth who would accost her first. Mary was not here to do it, so it must be Elizabeth.

  Jane pulled Elizabeth back and gave her a stern look and shake of her head. “Let Lydia freshen up, and then, she can tell us about her day.”

  Lydia smiled her appreciation to Jane. Jane could scold, but it was never as severe as Elizabeth or Mary. “I would like to repair my hair and rinse my face,” she looked toward Aunt Tess and waited for permission which was readily granted.

  No more than a quarter hour later, Lydia, feeling less dusty and wearing a clean dress, entered the sitting room. All conversation stopped as she did. A twisting began in her stomach much as it had on her return to Willow Hall. She swallowed her fear and, lifting her chin, made her way to sit next to Aunt Tess. At least whatever they were thinking about her had caused Marcus’s eyes to not roam the room. This time his eyes were focused only on her as he held a teacup halfway to his lips. However, she could not tell exactly what his eyes were saying. They did not look angry like Elizabeth’s had nor did they look sadly concerned like Jane’s did.

  “Was the lace what you wished?” Lydia began. It seemed silly to sit so silently and be stared at.

  “It was,” said Aunt Tess. “Your eye is as good as you claimed.”

  Lydia smiled. “It is a gift. Not everyone has an eye for the correct embellishments. One time Miss Maria was about to buy the entirely wrong lace for trimming her gloves, but I stopped her. She received so many compliments on those gloves, that she asked me my opinion the next time she needed to pick trim.”

  “Lace?” The question escaped Marcus before he could clamp his mouth shut on it.

  A pain stabbed at Lydia’s heart. Ah, that was his game, he was going to prove that she was not good enough. However, that was something she would not allow. She turned a patronizing smile on him. He had ignored her two days in a row and the first thing he was going to do was criticize her. “Yes, lace, Mr. Dobney. I would not expect you to understand.”

  “As if that is a deficiency,” he muttered. Drat, his mouth’s inability to stay closed!

  “It would be if you were a lady, but you are not, so it is just an expected shortcoming of your gender.”

  His eyes narrowed. Why was she being so — so — angry? And with him? He was not the one that had disappeared without a trace for the second time since arriving in Derbyshire. He took a sip of his tea and then set is aside.

  Good, she thought with a small toss of her head. He was put out as he should be.

  Aunt Tess placed a hand on Lydia’s arm. “Knowing the correct lace for a project is a good thing to know.” She shot a displeased look at Marcus, warning him, Marcus suspected, to hold his tongue. “And after you found the perfect lace, what did you do?”

  “I brought it here and placed it on the table along with a note letting you know that I would be assisting Mrs. Ross for the afternoon. She did not expect to feel so poorly this soon. Her sister is coming tomorrow, and Mrs. Ness was unable to be with her and the children all day — she is back now, however, which is why I was able to return earlier than I thought I would.”

  “There was no note,” said Aunt Tess in a soft voice. “The lace was on the table as you said, but there was no note.”

  “But there was,” Lydia insisted. “I left it right on the table next to the vase of flowers. I had it standing up like the peak of a roof. It looked very nice next to the flowers and the package of lace.”

  Elizabeth made a noise very like a huff, and Lydia scowled at her. “It was there.”

  Elizabeth raised a brow.

  “There was a note both here and in Brighton,” she said in answer to the unspoken accusation. She turned her eyes toward Aunt Tess again. Fear that she might be sent away early crept into her heart. She liked Aunt Tess and wished to learn all she could before she returned home to find a husband. “I swear to you, it was there.”

  “I did not see it.”

  Lydia rose and twisting her hands together, walked over to the table. “It was right here,” she pointed to the spot on the table where she had left it. “Did a servant take it?”

  Aunt Tess shook her head. “No one seemed to know where you were.”

  Lydia closed her eyes as a thought pushed its way into her mind. She drew a shaky breath. “I should have let Ruth tell Mrs. Graham where she and I were going. She suggested it, but I thought it would be faster if I just left a note.” She turned tear-filled eyes toward Aunt Tess. “I am sorry.”

  Aunt Tess’s smile was soft, but her words caused the tears to spill over the edge of Lydia’s eyes. “We were worried.”

  “I am sorry,” Lydia whispered again. She turned to look out the window. She could not look back at the eyes staring at her in the room. She had seen those accusing looks before. She did not need a reminder that she was stupid. Perhaps she should ju
st pack her things and go home. What hope was there of ever learning to be a proper lady?

  “You said Mrs. Ross is not well?”

  It was Marcus’s voice. She nodded and stiffened her spine for whatever he might throw at her to prove without doubt that she was unfit to be considered by a man like him.

  “And you gave up your afternoon of visiting to assist her?”

  She wiped at her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at him in confusion. He was not going to say how she should have sought someone with more sense to care for a lady who was not well? “I did. The children needed someone.”

  He shrugged and gave her a small smile. “That was well done.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  Marcus looked at Lydia’s back as she stood in front of the window with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Then he looked around the room at the faces that stared at her. It felt very much like that first day in Willow Hall’s sitting room. She had not run out the door yet, but he suspected she wished to do just that. His eyes fell on Mr. Bennet, and Marcus knew that he must prove both to her father and to Lydia that he not only believed her but respected her as well.

  “It was a lovely day. Did the children play outdoors?”

  Her head bobbed up and down.

  “Did Edith end up in the stream? Ross is always telling me how much she loves to fish.”

  Lydia laughed lightly. “We caught three small fish, but our shoes and stockings remained dry.” She glanced over her shoulder at him again and smiled. “We took them off and tied up the hems of our skirts.”

  Marcus’s eyes dropped to look at her feet. A very tantalizing image of her with her ankles and feet exposed as she waded in the water caused him to lose his train of thought momentarily. “Did you use a –” His thought was once again disrupted by a corner of a paper poking out from under the settee.

  Lydia turned from the window to see why he had stopped talking. To her surprise, he had slipped from his chair and was on the floor in front of the settee fishing something out from under it. He sat back and triumphantly held the note above his head. “Was the window open when you left this on the table?”

  Lydia turned back to the window and then toward the table. “I think it was.”

  “There was a beautiful breeze today, was there not?”

  Lydia smiled and nodded. “It pulled at my bonnet.”

  Marcus handed the note to Aunt Tess and stood. “Perhaps placing the parcel on top of the note next time would save some trouble.” He said it gently and with a smile. He straightened his jacket and joined her at the window. “Would you tell us about your day? The Ross children are delightful. I imagine they had you playing some interesting games.”

  “Why are you being nice?” she asked in response.

  “Why would I not be nice?” he asked cautiously.

  “You ignored me the last two days. I do not like being ignored.”

  “I was not ignoring you. I was thinking.”

  She crossed her arms and looked at him as if she did not believe him. “You could not look at me and think?”

  Marcus glanced around the room uneasily. Darcy and Philip, as well as Mr. Bennet, looked as if they were going to laugh while Jane and Elizabeth looked mortified, and Aunt Tess and Lucy wore decidedly smug smiles. He shook his head. “No. I could not.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Lydia muttered. “What could you be thinking of that would not allow you to look at me?”

  “Might we have this conversation somewhere else?” Marcus ran a finger around his cravat. This time, one of the other gentlemen in the room did chuckle, and it sounded a good deal like his brother.

  “If you wish,” said Lydia with a small huff, “but I do not see why. A person should be able to think and look at another person. I do it. It cannot be all that hard. You looked at everyone else in the room. What could a person possibly be thinking about that would require him not to look at one person?”

  “Marriage,” said Marcus through clenched teeth. “It was brought to my attention that you and I might suit well, and I was considering the possibility.” There was a small gasp both from the lady in front of him and her sisters behind him.

  Lydia’s eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open. Her heart felt like it had risen to her throat, and her breath caught in her chest.

  Marcus ran his finger around his collar once more. “I think they were right.”

  Lydia blinked, and her mouth snapped shut. They were right? Did he mean that he wished to marry her or just that they would suit well, so it was a viable option?

  “I think we should marry.” He took her by the arm. “Please,” he pleaded, “might we finish this conversation somewhere else?”

  “Why?”

  “Because declaring your love in front of an audience is rather awkward,” he answered without thought.

  “Oh.” She tipped her head to the side, her lips puckered, and her brows furrowed. “You love me?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  She pointed at herself. “Me?” she squeaked. “You love me?”

  He nodded again.

  A smile began to form on her lips, but then it faded. “I cannot marry you.”

  Marcus felt as if he had been punched hard in the stomach. “Why not?” he managed to ask.

  “I have not finished my lessons.”

  He shook his head. “Lessons?”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “Aunt Tess is teaching me how to be the mistress of an estate. I cannot marry you until I know all her lessons. I have been writing down what she says — not exactly how she says it, but so I will remember — but I have had only two days of instruction, and there is so much to know.”

  “How long do you think it will take for these lessons?” She had not refused him, and joy was tentatively creeping its way into Marcus’s heart. “Would you say you might know enough by Michaelmas?”

  Lydia peeked around him at Aunt Tess. He smiled at how serious her expression was.

  “Would that be long enough?”

  “I think,” said Aunt Tess, “that we might be able to finish a week before. But there is a soiree to plan.”

  Marcus could hear the laughter in Aunt Tess’s tone.

  “Oh, you are correct.” Lydia tapped her lip. They could certainly plan a wedding and a soiree at the same time, could they not? She sighed and her brows furrowed. “Would a wedding in the morning and a soiree at night be too much for your father?” she asked. Her eyes grew wide, and she placed both hands on one of Marcus’s arms. “We could get married in the chapel at Aldwood Abbey. I know my mother wished for us all to marry from Longbourn, but this way your father could attend. Oh,” She squeezed his arm. “You must get a special license that will make it so much more acceptable to Mama.” Her head tipped to the side. “Can you afford one?”

  He laughed and nodded. “So you will marry me?”

  She nodded a joyous yes.

  He moved to take her in his arms, but she pushed him away. “It is not proper,” she darted a significant look at Elizabeth, who blushed. Then, with a smile, she tilted her head and said, “However, if you would like to take a walk in the garden, I would accompany you.”

  Much to everyone’s amusement, Marcus did not waste a minute in removing Lydia from the room and to the garden. Then, with one last declaration of love, he kissed her.

  Lydia wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Kissing was quite as pleasurable as she had expected it would be, but the fluttering of her heart and the emotions that flooded through her, though pleasant, were not expected. She pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. “I love you.” Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  He laughed. “It is rather unexpected when it hits, is it not?”

  She nodded. “Yes, very. It is so very unexpected.”

  He brushed a hair back from her temple. “But not unpleasantly so?”

  She shook her head. “No. It is rather delightful.”

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” he said
against her lips before claiming them once again.

  At All Costs

  Willow Hall Romance, Book 4

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novel

  Prologue

  George Wickham balanced on the back two legs of his chair. A smile curled his lips as he saw the man who entered the upper room at the inn. This was the man they sent to deal with him? He chuckled inwardly. This man was all charm and smiles. This was not the usual sort of man with whom Wickham dealt. Well, at least, not as the victim. No, when dealing with anyone as malleable as this man, it was Wickham who would be the aggressor, and the poor blithe chap would not realize his folly until Wickham was well away and in possession of something that the man formerly possessed — money, jewels, a maidenly sister. Wickham’s smile grew at the thought. This man had a sister — a bit of a shrew but a wealthy one.

  Mr. Williams raised a brow in his direction as if he knew what Wickham was thinking.

  With a thud, Wickham dropped his chair to the ground and took up a proper position and demeanor for negotiations. His lips twitched with a barely contained smile. Perhaps Miss Lydia had not done him a disservice after all in conscripting him to take her to Derbyshire.

  “Mr. Williams,” Charles Bingley stuck out his hand in greeting, “I trust you are well today.” Bingley motioned for his companion, Philip Dobney, to take a seat at the table before taking his own place.

  “I am well and will be better once I have rid myself of this cad,” grumbled Williams.

  “Understandable,” agreed Bingley with a smile. “Mr. Dobney has agreed to sign as a witness.” Bingley spread out some papers in front of him.

  “Very good,” said Mr. Williams. “The sooner we can have this business concluded, the better. Although I do not like the idea of giving any assistance to an associate of Tolson.” He narrowed his eyes at Wickham. “Deserves the same fate if you ask me.”