Page 46 of Miss Dignified
That notion—that she had found a man to treasure, but must part from him too soon—made her reckless. She’d all but dragged Dylan to her boudoir, and that was the tamest of her intentions where he was concerned. She would regret her rash behavior, but she would regret even more letting the moment pass her by.
“Hurry, please,” she said when Dylan had undone only the first half-dozen hooks.
“Why embark on a forced march when a leisurely stroll will afford a greater opportunity to appreciate the scenery?” He appreciated the back of Lydia’s neck with his lips—and tongue?—and sent a shiver down her spine.
“I am not a rural shire, Captain, full of fluffy sheep desperately in need of sketch—”
He’d looped an arm around her waist and snugged her bottom against unmistakable evidence of ardent desire.
“And I am not a plundering vandal, to heedlessly gobble what should be savored—this time. Tell me about when you weren’t a paragon, Lydia.”
She had no idea what he… “Oh, that.”
“That.” More hooks came undone, and Lydia felt the subtlest of tugs as Dylan undid her laces. “Did you give him your heart?”
“I gave him about a quarter hour of my time.”
Dylan purely hugged her from behind. No arousing caresses, no kisses to shivery places. “Why give him that much?”
Lydia focused on the question, not one she’d made herself face squarely, though on the perimeter of her mind, she’d puzzled over it.
“I had spent three years interned at the most boring, silly, vapid excuse for a select academy you can imagine. Then I wasted more time parading around with Aunt Chloe. I was finally home, and all anybody could talk about was the war and theboysin their regimentals, as if war was an undertaking for children. I wanted attention, I suppose, and he offered that.” Childishof her, in hindsight, but also understandable.
“Fifteen minutes of attention?”
“He wanted a precious memory to take back with him to Spain. He wanted… I don’t know what he wanted, but there was some strong punch involved, and I had vowed to learn what all the fuss was about. He could oblige me, and thus I spared him a quarter hour.”
“Fuss?”
Lydia eased from Dylan’s arms and faced him, though the coals on the hearth gave her little light to see by. “Are you laughing at me? I refused to trot up the church aisle without some idea what I was getting myself into. At the time, I fully expected to be married before I turned two-and-twenty.”
Dylan took her in his arms. “I am laughing at the select academy. They did their best to turn you into a demure, marriage-obsessed twit, and you emerged from your ordeal full of self-possession and determination. I’m sorry your reconnaissance mission lasted only a quarter hour and was undertaken with a varlet in uniform, but you doubtless did give him a very sweet memory to take back to Spain.”
Lydia let go of some of the tension that had hounded her since the forget-me-nots had arrived. “I was awful. He wasn’t a varlet. He was simply a somewhat dishonorable young man, doing what soldiers on leave are notorious for doing. I got shed of some ignorance, also some arrogance.”
At some point, the discussion had gone from a conversation to a confession. Lydia liked that Dylan could visit this topic with her, and that his reaction was regret for her—and understanding. No dramatics, no outrage. She’d be able to put that long-ago interlude aside now in a way she hadn’t previously.
“You consider a single encounter with an opportunistic bounder educational?”
“I was opportunistic, too, and maybe the lieutenant sensed that in me. In any case, the experience was not worth repeating. My curiosity was duly satisfied, and I was none the worse for it. Had I not peeked beneath the covers, so to speak, there’s no telling whose suit I might have accepted.”
Dylan kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“First intimate experiences are probably all too commonly disappointing, especially for young ladies, but I wish better for you.”
Lydia snuggled closer, reveling in the simple pleasure of a warm embrace. “What of your first encounter?”
“Her name was Jane, and she was my sisters’ elocution teacher. An English widow highly regarded in the village. She has since remarried and moved to Scotland, which I account a relief. I was at risk for nervous exhaustion by the time our affair concluded, though I was probably the happiest young fellow in Wales for a time. My English pronunciation was improved for the experience as well.”
He’d had anaffaire de couer, while Lydia had had a quarter hour of fumbling and poking. Perhaps, if Dylan said a leisurely stroll was the better approach, she should heed his suggestion.
“What happened to your naughty soldier, Lydia?”
“I don’t know. My cousin Wesley knew the lieutenant from university or Town, and invited him to attend our New Year’s ball. My brother subsequently had a falling-out with the lieutenant, as young men do—drama over nothing, according to my cousin. The next thing I knew, my brother bought his colors, and an unimpressive quarter hour at the ball was the last thing on my mind.”
“Did your brother come home?”
