Delightfully Dangerous (Knights Without Armor Book 1)

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Delightfully Dangerous (Knights Without Armor Book 1) Page 13

by Marly Mathews


  “You can delude yourself all you want, my dear. Lord Tisbury is entitled to doing the same thing, fruitless though it might be. However, you are both destined for each other. He wasn’t meant to marry Lady Chorley, he was always meant for you. The Radcliff family and the Lovett family have been at odds over the years, ever since your father’s cousin became the earl. Micah marrying Rose healed a bit of that rift. You marrying Lord Tisbury shall completely heal the wound. Ah, my dearest daughter, you shall be a beautiful bride.”

  Lydia wondered if her mother had been into the laudanum. Her tone was too relaxed, and the light in her eyes was back. Perhaps it was the memories doing it for her, or…her mama had finally decided to come out of mourning for her father.

  “How did you and Papa first meet? The tale you always told us, about how you met Papa at a ball that his grandfather had thrown, before Papa took his orders—is that true?”

  “Of course it is true. We just failed to mention how our first meeting actually happened. We were reacquainted at the ball. But…the first time we met…we met under altogether different circumstances. It was exactly one year to the day after I came to live at my father’s estate, to be Theodora’s companion. Your father was visiting friends in the area. Theodora had taken to her chambers with a headache, and told me to remove myself from her sight. So I readily complied with her wishes. I was going to read in the library, but Mrs. Thorpe was in a bad temper and wanted me out of the house. So, I ran like a little hoyden out of the house, past my startled father who was reproaching me even as I ran away for being too wild, and saying that he’d spent money on an education I had thoroughly squandered. Theodora was wretchedly shallow, petty and vain. I suppose that’s why your sisters turned out the way they did. It was my fault. It was the blood I carried into the family that tainted it, but I do like to think that beneath their haughty ways, they have good hearts. I do believe that. I pray for it every night and every morning.

  “You are the best out of my girls, and you and Micah make me proud, Lydia. You are a credit to our family, and I shall not see you make a silly match. Mr. Newson is nice enough, but I do not know if he is the right temperament for you. I fear he would indulge you to excess, and you might never become the levelheaded lady I believe you can be.” Ouch. There she went again. Her mother was highly skilled at complimenting and insulting her in one fell swoop.

  Her mother’s words were all too revealing. She had never heard her talk with such brash honesty before. She seemed keen on revealing the entire truth to her, and yet, Lydia didn’t want to listen to any more of it. They’d been told that their grandfather had been a gentleman, a simple country squire, but everything else had been a glaring falsehood. How could her father have gone along with such Canterbury tales?

  “We met Grandpapa once. I barely remember it. He was a very stern man. Tall and thin, and I don’t believe he ever laughed.”

  “Aye. My father bid us to visit him right before…right before he died. We took the whole family. My father seemed happy enough to see Micah. He thought you were a bit of a little imp. You did have a habit of getting into things. Your papa said you were an active child, my papa said you were a little terror. Theodora’s husband seemed quite entertained by you. My papa wanted the truth to come out before he left this world for the next. And so, on his deathbed, he officially claimed me as his daughter. Theodora wasn’t too pleased. The second Mrs. Thorpe had already died, and my brother couldn’t even bother to leave London and the comfort of his gambling hells to see our father take his last breaths.”

  Lydia felt odd attempting to resign herself to this new truth. She always believed that her mother’s family was just not fond of travel. She never thought they distanced themselves for a reason.

  “What do you mean by saying that Mr. Newson would indulge me to excess? You think that Lord Tisbury wouldn’t indulge me?”

  “He would, on some points, but he would also be your guiding light in a storm. He would keep you fixed in one spot when you needed to be. He would calm you.”

  She looked away. “How did you and Papa first meet?” She had to know. The lies had to be blown away. She wanted the truth. No more stories, unless they were genuine.

  “Ah, yes. We…we met whilst I was running through the countryside looking more like a child of the gypsies over the prim, proper and educated young lady I was supposed to be.” She chuckled. “I…I had taken it upon myself that day to escape down to the river. It was far enough from the house to appease Mrs. Thorpe, and far enough from my father to make my life easier. And…I heard a dreadful noise. It sounded like kittens…kittens being…” She narrowed her eyes. “Someone had thrown a sack full of kittens into the river. I tried to reach them, and fell in myself. I wasn’t…” She looked away from Lydia, staring off into space, as if she was watching that day so long ago unfold again. “I couldn’t swim. I thought I would meet my maker that day. As I was being engulfed by the water, I could only think that Theodora would no longer have anyone to blame should she find the need. I would have been swept to the dark depths below, had someone not jumped in and pulled me to the riverbank, and somehow, God bless him, I don’t know how, he managed to rescue the kittens as well. My James was a lot like Micah.” She sighed deliciously, swept away by the memory of James Radcliff. Lydia had never heard her father painted so heroically. Her father was always remembered as being a pious clergyman with the right advice to bestow upon his flock of parishioners, but it gave her a secret thrill to hear that he was once a man who could be counted on to act with such swift heroism. “I owed him my life, you see. I would have been dead without him. From that moment on, I was lost in love. I adored him. I would have gone to the ends of the earth with James had he commanded it. I was his faithful servant for life. I lived my life for him, and I pray that I served him well. He was my prince. He saved me from a life of servitude to my father’s family. I doubt I would have been able to find a suitable husband otherwise. I had no dowry, and…there were those who still whispered about the circumstances of my birth.

  “Mysteries of birthright can be quite a debilitating thing when on the hunt for a husband who will…who treat you the way you deserve. I heard one lady at a ball whisper to her friend that I was no better than a harlot, and had to marry a vicar in order to save myself from sin. His grandfather could have put a stop to the match, he never did, despite plenty of objections from other members of the family. I was interviewed by him, and studied quite critically, but thankfully, I passed his inspection, and when he gave a command or a blessing, everyone had to take heed of it. He had no issue with me. Alas, the same could not be said of the other members of his family, who still remained completely prejudiced against me. The worst was…” She dabbed her nose with her handkerchief. “Was the woman who would one day become Lady Warminster. She was a foul creature to me, and never failed to show her disdain for me. That is why she would never deign to entertain us. I continually felt wretched for that divide, knowing that I had caused it. Your father, for his part, never blamed me, and said that it was her fault, not mine, that she was blind to the good people in her life. If only she hadn’t believed the gossipmongers. I didn’t want to fight it. There was no reason to. You father, he always knew. I confessed all of my rather unfortunate beginnings shortly after we were acquainted. I did not want him to continue along the path he walked until he knew the whole truth. So I told him. I told him that I was…I was the daughter of a fallen woman.” At this, her mother hung her head again.

  Lydia kept silent. Her mother’s secret origins added a splash of color to their family. She thought it all terribly romantic. Her mother had worshipped her father. And, as she’d just freely stated, she had lived her life for him. Many had wondered how she would continue to thrive without his steady hand to guide her through life. But, as she looked at her mother, she suddenly realized that her mother’s life had been enriched by her father, and his presence had strengthened her so she could carry on without him. She’d been born a survivor. Sh
e didn’t need a man to keep going—she’d had to rely upon herself for the first sixteen years of her life.

  Euphemia Thorpe had been a strong, willful girl before meeting James Radcliff, and instead of his absence destroying her, it had made her more determined to see that the work he had left unfinished, when it came to the family at least, was finished. That was the only way that Lydia could explain her mother’s behavior right now. Her father had wanted her to be matched with Lord Tisbury, and so, her mother was going to see it done.

  Lydia’s mouth was suddenly terribly dry. She licked her lips, and thought of all the bubbling champagne and the tasty punch that would be readily available at the ball. Should she go and make a tardy appearance? Should she live the life her parents had always wanted for her?

  “Even now, I feel his soulful presence guiding me, and that is why,” Euphemia cleared her throat, as determination lit her pale blue eyes. “And that is why…I shall see you marry your earl. He might not be a James Radcliff, but he shall do for you what James did for me. He will complete you. He will make your life worth living. Not that it isn’t worth living without him, but it’s not half as jolly without him. And since I have acquired my title, there have been plenty of eligible men sniffing around me, whether they be widowers or men who never thought it wise to marry and now need a little cachet to their name. Looking to leg-shackle themselves to me, but I shall always remain a widow. There is no man who walks this earth who could ever hope to win my hand in marriage. One husband was all I shall ever want or need.”

  “Have you told Micah about your life before you met Papa?” Lydia asked softly. For the first time in her life, she felt a sort of connection to her mother. Tonight showed that her mother had had a past, a past that she had risen above, and now some of her behavior toward Lydia had been explained.

  Her mother looked at her with an unwavering stare. “Micah is the only one who knows, and now, so do you. I cannot trust my other daughters with the knowledge, Lydia. They would wail and scream so horrifically. I don’t think I could bear it. Sometimes when they are around, I have the strongest urge to clap my hands over my ears, their shrill voices disturb me so. It is as if I have been plunged back to when I was a girl of sixteen, and listening to Theodora moaning on about nothing in particular, and it makes me grit my teeth in reaction to the horror of it all. To think that I have birthed, such…shrews.” She shuddered. Lydia remained silent. Her mother’s constant indulgence with her sisters hadn’t helped to curtail any of their unpleasant behavior. Had she indulged their behavior thinking it would help them, or had she done it because the alternative to her had been unthinkable? Perhaps she had remained indulgent and indifferent to keep herself from losing her temper with them and doing something she would have deeply regretted.

  “What happened to your father’s family?”

  “Miss Theodora Thorpe made an excellent match. She married a fabulously wealthy baronet who was quite a bit older than her. I do believe she married him thinking she would quickly become a merry widow, and be able to do whatever she pleased, free from the hold of a controlling husband or father. Alas, the baronet has had the effrontery to live a long life. She must cry herself to sleep every night, poor dear. She told me once that she had her life completely charted out. She would marry a wealthy old man and when he keeled over as old husbands were wont to do, she would take as many lovers as possible. Alas, I do not think her life turned out quite the way she wanted it to. He vexes her to no end, and for that I am quite fond of him.” Her mother laughed. “My brother married a sensible young lady of good fortune and family who would keep him happy and well respected, whilst he enjoyed himself in London. He had inherited my father’s vices, you see, and as for my father’s other daughters…well, they never married.”

  “Spinsters?” Lydia supplied for her mother, who had suddenly become nervous.

  “Aye. They never found their matches, and were left on the shelf as it were. I just pray they do not behave the way my wretched aunts behaved. Unfortunately, my father failed to provide a means of financial independence for those two daughters of his, and so they lack the very ability to clothe, feed and shelter themselves, and as such they spend their time living between Hugo and Theodora’s households, entirely at the whim of their charity. Once Theodora hears of my good fortune, I expect I shall receive a letter from them or from Theodora shortly, begging to come and live with us, and as they are strangers to me, I do not know how I shall respond. For her part, Theodora will believe I am worth talking to. I’ve tried to keep word of Micah’s good fortune away from her, but it’s only a matter of time before she reads it in the newspapers—heaven knows she barely reads, but her husband is no idiot.”

  “You could allow them to visit for a few weeks and see how insufferable they are.”

  “Micah would move me into the dower house, should I do that. However, I have considered moving into Radcliff Hall, in order to give your brother and his wife their privacy. Micah would say he doesn’t want me to leave, but it is a beautiful manor, and I do believe it deserves to have residents happy under its roof once more. Micah shall provide all that I need, in ways of a household staff. We have discussed it on more than one occasion, however, he was quite adamant that there was no rush for me to take my leave of Maidstone House. Once you are married, I do believe it shall be time for me to reside in the dower house for good. Radcliff Hall is nearby to Maidstone House, and it is set on some pastoral lands that call to my heart. And it has the advantage of being closer to Castleton and in turn, closer to the Lovett Estates, which shall gladden my heart. When you marry Lord Tisbury, you shall once again roam the lands that you did as a child. Castleton Court and its surrounding property hold such fond memories for all of us. We were so very happy in that beautiful vicarage, raising our brood. Your father was a far kinder father than my own. He could be a proper devil when in a foul temper, and thrashed me once when my aunts said I was a naughty, wicked child.”

  “Papa didn’t believe in thrashing us. He always worked it out with words, and Micah sat in the corner a lot.”

  “Oh, aye.” Her mother laughed. “How could you possibly remember that? You were awfully young. Yes, your father expressed his discipline in other ways…ways that seemed to have worked based on how you and Micah turned out. I’m not sure how he could have ever rid your sisters of their vanity and pride, although he did try ever so hard, bless his sweet gentle soul.”

  “Papa always knew what to say. He accomplished much with his words. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it. I wish he had passed that on to me.”

  Her mother laughed; it sounded more like a giggle. She had never delighted her mother with her words before. Not to this extent.

  “When in doubt, my dear, try to behave like your father, and if you want to indulge your wicked wild child ways, just remember you shall be acting like me—and I doubt you want to be like your mother.” Hearing those cheeky words, Lydia fought the urge to burst out in laughter. Her mother was right. She didn’t want to follow in her footsteps, indeed. Perish the thought.

  Lydia regarded her mother again. It was terribly difficult to imagine that her mother had once been a wild child, but it did explain her at times colorful language.

  “How much of your mother do you remember?” Lydia asked softly.

  “Enough to know that she and her friends affected me in ways that my father could never have imagined. He certainly wasn’t prepared for it,” Euphemia sighed. “I expect that’s why he eventually came to fetch me. He knew I was in with, for want of a better description, a bad lot. A lot that could only seek to worsen my future—not enhance it. For all of his unkind manner, he did succeed in bettering me. He did succeed in giving me a future that my mother would have failed to provide. I shudder to think of what gruesome fate would have befallen me, had he left me in her custody. Sometimes, sometimes, I miss her soft voice, remembering when she would come to me at bedtime, and sing me softly to sleep, but her eyes…her eyes were so haunt
ed. She knew her wretched fate and was resigned to it. And I suspect she realized she was trapped in a prison that she could never get out of, and to her credit, she didn’t want to see me follow in her footsteps. She never fought my father when he came to collect me and at the time, I hated her for it, as I had known no other life. Now I know, or at least I hope I am right, I know why she didn’t put up a struggle. She knew that her way of life was no life for me, and that my father held the key to unlocking a gloriously bright future for me, and he did, despite all of the hardships I had to endure along the way. I wish I knew what happened to her. I suspect she died as she lived, miserable.” More tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and Lydia felt the need to reach for her hand to give her comfort. Her mother almost drew away, but thought better of it at the last minute. “You are just like your father. You have a strong and generous nature, Lydia. Do not ever betray it.”

  “I won’t, Mama.”

  “Upon my word, I do believe if we are to go to the ball, we had best tarry no longer.”

  “But Mama…”

  “Come, come. You know you want to go and be a part of that glittering and jolly display down there. You will find it rather tonic. You are young and gay. You are currently free of a husband, and it is time, my dear…it’s time for you to set your course of life. What you do now shall either ensure your happiness—or break it. I shall take care of Mr. James Newson, it is your duty to take care of Lord Tisbury. Make me proud, dearest. You will be the envy of your sisters. They shan’t know what to do if plain little Lydia marries herself an earl. You always were your father’s little princess, and now, you shall have your regal prince.” Her mother’s words stoked the fire within Lydia’s soul.

  “How do I move past the fact that he asked another woman to marry him?”

  “Lady Chorley is the past—she is safely married and far out of Lord Tisbury’s reach, not that he should want her now anyway. You cannot continue to keep her between the two of you. He was a fool. All men are fools at one point in their lives. We cannot hold that against them forever; if we did, women would never find happiness with the men they love. And you, my dear, love Lord Tisbury. Do not steal your own happiness to spite him.” The music from the ball carried to them through her shut door. She had to go. Her mother was right. She yearned to see Lord Tisbury. Being in his company was a tonic for her rattled nerves, though more recently, he had rattled them more than soothed them. She craved to experience the feelings that rushed through her whenever she clapped eyes on Richard. Nay. It was Lord Tisbury. She could not call him Richard, ever again. Even if she married him, he would still be Lord Tisbury until he made her believe he was once again, her Richard. She’d acted as her mother had just said, damn foolishly about him in the past, and now rued her actions bitterly.

 

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