by Alec, Joyce
“Lord Ancrum’s townhouse, if you please,” she said hastily, climbing inside. “And just as quickly as you can.” Her maid climbed in beside her, remaining entirely silent although she stared at her mistress with clear concern.
“At once, miss,” came the gruff reply, and Lydia sank back into her seat, closing her eyes tightly and allowing the shock of the last few minutes to wash over her completely.
13
“Miss Whitaker!”
Joseph got up from his seat at once as a harried-looking Miss Whitaker hurried into the room. Her face was white, her bonnet a little askew, and her curtsy was less than proper. He had never seen her in such a state before.
“I must beg your forgiveness for coming to you without invitation or expectation,” she said breathlessly, approaching him with outstretched hands. “It is only that I have had such a strange encounter that I could not imagine returning home without speaking to you first.”
Joseph grasped her hands at once, aware of just how cold they were. “You were right to come to me, of course,” he reassured her, wondering what had occurred. “Is it to do with Lord Paulson?”
She shook her head and whilst he gestured for her to sit down, she remained standing and simply held his hands tightly. Her eyes searched his face, their lightness seeming to be gone from them completely. “It is not to do with Lord Paulson, but rather with our engagement,” she said, suddenly letting go of his hands and reaching up to untie her bonnet ribbons. It was most unusual for a lady not to even take off her bonnet before she made her way into a house and it was this that made Joseph wonder all the more what had occurred.
“You—you are not thinking of ending it, I hope,” he asked, his brow suddenly furrowing at the thought. “I confess that my heart now holds a certain fondness for you and—”
He stopped dead, seeing her eyes widen at what had just been revealed from his lips. He had not meant to say such a thing, he realized, the words seeming to echo around the room as he looked down at her astonished expression. But he could not deny them. Nor could he take them back from her and hide them within himself again. He had spent a good deal of time with her of late and her shrewd mind, trusting nature, and kindness of spirit had begun to draw him ever closer to her. It was as though he were slowly being bewitched by her and if it were not for this disturbing affair with Lord Paulson’s death, Joseph was quite certain that his heart would have become all the more engaged with her.
“After what has just occurred, I must say that I am glad to hear such a thing from your lips,” Miss Whitaker whispered, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. “I had thought that… it was foolish to think it, of course, but Lady Starling sounded so convincing that a moment of doubt did catch me by surprise.”
A jolt ran through him at the sound of Lady Starling’s name. “I do not understand, Miss Whitaker.”
She smiled at him, her expression softening. “Lydia, please.”
“Lydia,” he replied, a trifle more gently, realizing the intimacy now growing between them. “Lydia, what is it that has occurred with Lady Starling? I do not quite understand.”
Slowly, Miss Whitaker began to explain. Her voice was soft, her expression troubled as she told him what had happened. Joseph’s gut twisted as he listened. He could not understand what Lady Starling was doing, for she had no reason to speak to Miss Whitaker in such a way. It was not as though there was any sort of understanding between himself and Lady Starling, for he had never once even suggested that there might be anything of importance between them. Why, then, would she attempt to warn Miss Whitaker away from him? He did not want his engagement to come to an end and he certainly had no feelings for Lady Starling. His hands tightened on Miss Whitaker’s, seeing the slight glistening in her eyes and fearing that she was about to break down in tears.
“I have no knowledge of why Lady Starling might do such a thing,” he told her when she had finished. “I am truly sorry for what has occurred, Lydia. I do wish that I would have been there so that I might intervene in some way.” Seeing her close her eyes against her tears, he felt his gut twist as a spike of anger burned through his heart. “I will speak to Lady Starling about this matter.”
“No, please, you need not do so,” Miss Whitaker said at once, suddenly even closer to him, her expression almost pleading. “There is no need for you to intervene. I beg of you, please do not speak to her of it. I do not want any more gossip or whispers chasing either myself or you, Lord Ancrum. Please, do nothing.”
Joseph bit his lip, hesitating. He did not want any harm to come to Miss Whitaker and certainly did not want Lady Starling to follow through with any supposed threats, but the look in Miss Whitaker’s eyes forced him to reconsider.
“If she speaks to you again, Lydia, then you will tell me,” he said slowly, seeing how she nodded fervently. “I must protect you as best I can, especially since we are already mixed up in a grave matter.” Letting out a long breath, he let go of her hand and, unable to help himself, reached up to brush the back of his fingers across her cheek. “I would still prove myself to you, Lydia. You do believe me that I have had nothing to do with Lady Starling’s demands that we bring our engagement to an end?”
Miss Whitaker blushed furiously but did not turn away from him. “I do believe you, yes,” she murmured, her eyes widening as she realized just how close they stood together. “I have news which I must also share with you as regards the matter over Lord Paulson.” She cleared her throat gently as though trying to remember what it was she had come to say. “And I must hope that this will give us an avenue to explore.”
A flare lit up his heart. “What is it?”
“My mother,” Miss Whitaker began, looking a little embarrassed. “She told me that she was glad to hear of Lord Paulson’s passing because she herself has been involved with the blackmail that ailed your… friend.” This word held a good deal of emphasis, reminding Joseph none too gently that, as yet, he had not told her the truth about Lady Starling. The shame of admitting that it was that particular lady whom he had been trying to help burned in his heart all over again, growing all the worse now that he knew just how cruel Lady Starling had been to Miss Whitaker.
“She also recalled that there were two ladies who quit the room during the performance. One wore a light pink gown,” Miss Whitaker continued, when he said nothing. “The other wore a gown of dark green.” Her eyes fastened onto his, clearly searching for some kind of hope within his own expression. “Does this not give us something to explore?”
Joseph nodded slowly, feeling his heart begin to fill with the very hope that Miss Whitaker had just spoken of. “I believe that does give us some direction, yes,” he agreed, feeling her fingers press his. “You have done very well.”
Unfortunately, this did not seem to encourage Miss Whitaker, for she frowned deeply, a line cutting into her forehead. “I must admit, I am somewhat despondent in the knowledge that my mother has been involved, along with the suggestion that there may very well have been others under Lord Paulson’s control present that night.”
“We cannot worry about that now,” Joseph replied decisively, aware that if he considered such a possibility for too long, they might begin to feel lost in despondency. “We must search for these two ladies. You have done very well, Lydia.” His voice softened, his gut beginning to tighten at the look of delight in her eyes. A slow desire began to grow within him, fervent and unrestrained. Joseph did not know what it was, could not give it a name, but felt it burning within him with an ever-increasing strength. The air seemed to grow thick about them both, his breathing quickening in time with hers.
“Lord Ancrum, I—”
She was cut off by the gentle press of his lips against hers. He had not intended to kiss her, but the look in her eyes, the softness of her skin, and the gentle press of her hand in his had washed over him, capturing him entirely. It was as though he were in a dream, for all he could see was Miss Whitaker, all he could think of was her. She had come to him in the
midst of her trouble, thinking immediately and only of him and believing that he could protect her. Her one desire had been to speak to him of what had occurred, almost immediately after it had happened. Did that not speak of her trust in him? Did that not show just how much she thought of him? There was no doubt in his mind that she believed him to be innocent of Lord Paulson’s death, and her determination to help him only drew him closer to her. His heart had become engaged so swiftly and yet it was the most unusual occurrence that had ever happened to him.
And then, he realized what he was doing. Yes, they were engaged and yes, it seemed they would wed, but he realized that he had taken her in his arms and kissed her before even knowing whether or not she wished it. In all of this he was attempting to prove to her that he was a sincere and good-hearted gentleman, trying to forget his past indiscretions, and now he had, once more, shown her entirely the opposite.
“Lydia… Miss Whitaker, I…” He closed his eyes tightly, stepping back from her and letting her go swiftly. “I did not mean to—I should not have…” His words died away as he opened his eyes to see her looking up at him, almost dazed in her expression. She was blinking rapidly, her eyes fixed upon his whilst her face bloomed with color. Silence reigned for some moments, until finally, Miss Whitaker spoke.
“You kissed me.”
Her voice was wispy, her cheeks still pink. She touched her lips with one finger, as though making certain that this was what had occurred, and Joseph felt his stomach twist, still uncertain as to her reaction.
“I am sorry,” he replied, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I should not have given in to my urgent desire. It was a moment of poor consideration and I—”
“I have never been kissed before,” Miss Whitaker interrupted, her eyes searching his face. She looked at him for some moments until, finally, a small smile began to spread across her face. Joseph let out his breath slowly, utterly relieved that she was smiling at him and not reaching out to slap him hard across the face.
“You have not disappointed me,” she said gently, moving slowly towards him. “Nor have you made me believe that you are an improper gentleman, as I know you must now be thinking.”
“I am grateful to you for your consideration,” he stammered, not quite certain what else to say. “I will admit that I have never felt such emotions as this, Miss Whitaker.”
“Lydia,” she reminded him with a soft smile. “You speak the truth, Lord Ancrum?”
He drew near her again, his heart beginning to hammer furiously in his chest. “I do, Lydia,” he replied honestly. “It may have been only a few days since we have found ourselves engaged, but I must admit to you that my heart has begun to fill with you. We have spent so many hours together that when we are apart, I look forward to seeing you again. You came to me when you needed help, trusted me to be able to bring you the aid you needed, and as our intimacy has increased, my heart has begun to hold a fondness for you that I cannot deny.”
Miss Whitaker’s smile remained, her eyes softening. “I did not expect such a thing to ever happen to me,” she breathed, coming closer to him and settling her hand on his chest, sending sparks all through him. “This is quite remarkable, I must say.”
There was such curiosity in her eyes that Joseph could not help but chuckle, his hands capturing hers all over again. Finally, there appeared to be a touch of light, of hope, in the middle of his troubles. A hope that he might find a true happiness with Miss Whitaker, a happiness that could not be taken from either of them. All they had to do was find the person responsible for the death of Lord Paulson, so that he would no longer carry the weight of fear that he might be assigned the blame he did not deserve.
“I am glad you find it so, Lydia,” he replied, seeing her laugh back up into his face with delight. “I do hope you will continue to find me so remarkable in the times to come, once we are free of this trouble.”
“I am certain I shall,” she replied softly, her smile fading to a look of tenderness which he could not help but respond to, astonishing her all over again.
14
“So, what have we to look for?”
Lydia smiled up at Lord Ancrum, feeling her heart lifting. “We have two guests who left the room during the musical performance,” she said quickly. “One with a green gown and another with a pink satin gown.”
Lord Ancrum nodded, evidently recalling what they had discussed a sennight ago. They had met on various occasions prior to this afternoon’s walk, but as yet had not had the opportunity to discuss any progress made in detail.
“I have managed to discover the identity of the young lady with the pink satin gown,” he told her, bringing a rush of excitement to Lydia’s heart. “She is Miss Brinkley. I remember her attending, and in discussion with some others, was able to confirm that my memory was correct. From what I have discovered, Miss Brinkley returned to the room rather quickly, having only gone to the powder room. She was alone, however.”
“That is exciting indeed!” Lydia replied, feeling truly delighted that he knew at least one of the two. “So, we know the first. Do you know the second?”
A shadow seemed to cross over Lord Ancrum’s face, making Lydia’s smile fade. “I have been trying to remember but my mind has failed me,” he replied, sounding frustrated. “I recall Lord Paulson making a comment about a lady in a green gown, but as hard as I try, I cannot remember who he referred to.”
“That is not to be considered a failing, however,” Lydia replied, wanting to encourage him. “You have done very well, Lord Ancrum.”
His face split with a smile and Lydia felt her heart warm. There was such an obvious mutual affection now that neither of them could turn from it – and this brought Lydia more delight than she had ever thought possible.
“Thank you, Lydia,” he murmured, speaking her name quietly as they turned into St James’ Park. “You are a great encouragement, truly.” A dark look entered his eyes. “The Bow Street Runners have come to my door again, however. They have spoken to me at length about what I discovered the night of Lord Paulson’s death and I will confess that the manner of their questions has made me somewhat concerned.”
Lydia swallowed hard, her smile fading quickly. If the Bow Street Runners had returned to speak to Lord Ancrum, then that must mean that they considered him to have a strong motive for killing Lord Paulson. A cloud settled over her mind, but with an effort, Lydia thrust it aside. No good could come from giving into despondency. They had to continue with their own efforts in the hope that something would become clear.
“I am certain they were just making further enquiries,” she said, trying to put a smile on her face. “We need not concern ourselves overly much. We must instead concentrate on discovering who this lady with the green gown might be.”
“And speaking to Miss Brinkley so as to discover if she saw anything or to discern if she, too, was being blackmailed by Lord Paulson,” Lydia added quietly, her hand now settling on Lord Ancrum’s arm. She tried not to let herself think about what might happen if Miss Brinkley had, in fact, simply gone to the powder room and if they could not discover the identity of the lady in the green gown, knowing that they would be left without any sort of hope if such a thing were to occur. Instead, she tried to let herself be encouraged, to let herself hope. Her fingers tightened on Lord Ancrum’s arm, making him glance down at her with a look of concern in his eyes.
“You have not heard from Lady Starling again, I hope?” he said, clearly worried that she was holding something back from him. “She has not spoken to you in this last week?”
“No, indeed not,” Lydia replied honestly. “I have seen nothing of her nor have any consequences come tumbling over my head, as she promised.” A wry smile tipped her lips. “Mayhap she knows that she spoke foolishly and the matter is now at an end.”
Lord Ancrum did not look convinced. “Mayhap,” he murmured, his brows lowered. “There is still something about that incident that…” He trailed off, his footsteps becoming slower until t
hey had both come to a complete stop. Lydia stared up at him, her heart suddenly thundering furiously within her chest as she watched him. The color was slowly draining from his face, his eyes widening with apparent terror, and Lydia could do nothing but wait for him to speak.
Lord Ancrum let out a gasping breath and then ran one hand down over his face.
“It cannot be,” she heard him say hoarsely. “It cannot be.” He looked at her with a blank expression, clearly overcome with something that he had only just realized.
“What is it, Lord Ancrum?” she asked softly, hardly daring to breathe, such was the obvious weight of the moment. “Has something begun to trouble you?”
Lord Ancrum rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, shaking his head in a confused fashion. “I—I have recalled what Lord Paulson said to me the evening I stood with Lady Starling,” he replied slowly, looking into her eyes. “It was Lady Starling who had asked me to aid her in finding a way to remove her from Lord Paulson’s grasp.”
Lydia blinked rapidly, trying to accept this new information without any sort of outward reaction. Lady Starling had been the one whom Lord Ancrum had sought to help, and yet he had hidden that from her. He had not told her the truth. Closing her eyes, Lydia took in a long breath, recalling the day she had seen Lord Ancrum and Lady Starling driving through the park in a carriage together. Her stomach had turned over at the sight, her heart aching furiously—and that had been before she had allowed herself to admit that she was rather caught up with the gentleman.
