Page 61 of An Arranged Betrothal with a Contrite Duke
When Michael stepped again, she waited to feel the distance close between them. But when he spoke again, she realized that he was still behind her, but more toward the center of the room. Worse still, he was right between her and the door to the classroom.
“Boys and girls,” Michael said. She thought his voice was trembling, but she was too angry to notice. “Miss Carrick, I believe your name is?”
He paused until the teacher nodded her head slowly in confirmation.
“That’s correct,” she whispered.
Michael nodded, his expression truly contrite.
“I do apologise,” he said. “I feel terrible for disrupting your lesson and scaring everyone so badly. I will go soon, I assure you, and I ask your forgiveness for being so rude. But I must convince my dear Lydia to speak with me first.”
Lydia scoffed. Was he now trying to appeal to the innocent children to get her attention? That was a new low, even for him.
She tried to push past him, her cheeks burning with humiliation.
“I will not speak with you,” she declared, her voice barely concealing the tremor of emotion. “Please, stop this. Either leave or allow me to. But I will not speak to you.”
Michael refused to back down, though. His determination was evident as he threw himself to his knees before her.
“Lydia, I beg of you, please forgive me.” he said. “I have been a fool and a scoundrel, but I swear to you, I love you with all my heart, and I will do everything in my power to make amends.”
Lydia hesitated, her heart torn between fury and a desperate hope that his words were true. She looked at the children, who were now openly staring and whispering among themselves, and then back at Michael, who remained on his knees, his eyes pleading. She still had no desire to hear anything Michael had to say. But clearly, he was not going to leave until she herself left with him.
To make matters worse, the shy little girl from earlier rose from her seat.
“Lady Strawbridge, he seems really sorry,” she said. “Maybe it would be fair to listen to him.”
The boy who recited the poem also rose, nodding in agreement.
“We think you should talk to him,” he said. “He seems like he wants to try to make you happy. And you deserve to be as happy as this school is making us.”
Lydia’s heart squeezed. She could never tell the children that she had been happy with Michael, until she found out the terrible thing he did. She would never put them in the middle of it any more than they already had been. But nor could she ignore those words. She wanted to be happy, too. And, perhaps, if she could give Michael one last piece of her mind, maybe she could find happiness of her own.
She sighed, the weight of the situation finally breaking her resolve.
“Very well, Michael,” she relented. I will listen to what you have to say, but not here, not in front of the children. Let us take this discussion outside.”
Relief flooded Michael's features, and he quickly rose to his feet, his expression hopeful.
“Oh, thank you, Lydia,” he said. “I promise you will not regret this.”
Simultaneously, all the children rose from their seats, cheering and clapping. Lydia couldn’t help smiling at their enthusiasm, despite the strangeness of the situation. Even Miss Carrick was giving her an encouraging smile. Michael had said that she wouldn’t regret speaking to him, and the students and the teacher seemed to agree. She just hoped that she didn’t.
Chapter Thirty
Under the soft glow of the sinking afternoon sun, Michael and Lydia stood outside the esteemed school where she had found solace and refuge. The brisk spring air blew the brilliant green leaves of the trees overhead, while a cool breeze rustled through the castle grounds. A picturesque scene, the perfect backdrop for the delicate conversation that was to ensue. Michael’s heart was racing. The relief he had felt when Lydia agreed to speak with him had been unmatched. But now, he was terrified of talking.
Lydia had already agreed to hear him out. But he knew that he would only have one chance to speak his heart clearly and concisely. Otherwise, she would turn him away and banish her from his life. He didn’t blame her, of course. But he would do anything to convince her how sorry he was, and how much he loved her.
With a deep breath, he gave her a sheepish smile.
“Lydia," he began hesitantly. “Thank you for agreeing to hear me out. I read your letter, and I know how hurt and upset you are. And I want you to know that I understand how bad you must feel. I am just grateful that you will allow me to speak to you now.”
Lydia scoffed. She refused to look at him, but she didn’t try to get away from him.
“You hardly gave me a choice, Michael,” she said. “You really shouldn’t have confronted me in front of the children. That is something I am sure they will never forget.”
Michael nodded, guilt washing over him. He hadn’t even considered the children when he began his plea. And he realized then that he should have. He hoped that such behavior hadn’t made Lydia too much angrier. Though he knew he couldn’t blame her for that, either.
