“That’s what we’re doing now, my dear,” he said. “We wanted to let you know that we received this offer, and that I intend to accept it.”
Lydia shook her head, full of disbelief.
“But why me?” she asked. “I do not know who he is. He cannot possibly know who I am. Why would he suddenly request to marry me?”
Lydia noticed that her father’s eyes flickered. With what, she wasn’t sure. But he just shrugged, gesturing to a paper on the very top of the pile on the table in front of him.
“He must know something about you,” he said. “Perhaps, he has seen you at a ball or dinner party and was too shy to speak to you directly.”
Lydia scoffed. If a man thought he could woo her without so much as speaking to her, he was terribly mistaken. Besides, she had found herself quite taken with James for a few years. She stayed too preoccupied with her education pursuits to actively vet him for a husband. But she couldn’t bear the thought of not getting the chance to discern his feelings for her, or of never having a chance with him.
“I’m afraid that I protest,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “How can you expect me to marry someone with whom I have never even spoken?”
Her mother gave her an indulgent, patient look.
“Darling, you must understand that this is a great honour,” she said. “The duke is a highly respected member of the aristocracy, and his offer is a great opportunity for our family.”
Lydia shook her head again, not believing that the parents who sat before her then, were the parents who have always been supportive of her future plans.
“But what about my dreams?” Lydia asked, her voice rising. “What about my plans to open a school?”
The earl gave his daughter a tired smile.
“Lydia, we have given this a great deal of thought,” he said, his tone firm. "We believe that this marriage will be in the best interests of both you and our family, and we expect you to obey.”
Lydia's heart felt heavy. She had always known that her parents had other hopes for her future, but she had believed that they would at least consider her wishes. They had, after all, been kind to her about her desires to teach and to open a school someday. Now, it seemed as though they had changed their minds, and that her fate was completely out of her hands.
Lydia left her father's study in devastated silence, feeling as though her dreams had been shattered. She couldn't help but wonder who the Duke of Strawbridge was and what kind of man he would be. Would he support her dreams of opening a school, or would he stand in the way? And what about James, the man she had long admired from afar? Would she never have the chance to be with him now?
Lydia returned to her room and picked up Miss Brinton's book. She tried to read, to lose herself in the ideas and the arguments that had so inspired her, but her heart wasn't in it. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the news her parents had delivered and the uncertain future that lay ahead. She felt in that moment that she would never be able to concentrate ever again. She desperately needed some way to get the thoughts out of her head. Weeping, she pulled out a piece of stationery and penned a letter to Bryony. Perhaps, her mentor could offer her advice. If not, she didn’t know what she would do.
Chapter Two
A few days later, Michael awoke with a sense of eagerness. He was expecting word back from the earl any day. While he knew that Lord Tockenham could very well toss his letter in the bin rather than reply, Michael had a good feeling that he would not. He called for his valet, Lark, and demanded that he be dressed quickly. A simple black suit sufficed, as he intended to spend the day in his study, as always. It was the one place where he could avoid his mother, as she knew well to not disturb him when the study door was locked.
He was headed to the dining hall to join his mother for breakfast when Patterson, the butler, intercepted him just as he reached the first floor.
“Milord,” the stout butler said, bowing as he extended his hand. “This came for you just this morning.”
Michael snatched it from his hand, grinning as he saw the earl’s name on it. He nodded, to the butler, bowing.
“Thank you, Patterson,” he said warmly. “I am thrilled to see this letter. You may return to your duties. And thank you again.”
The butler bowed again and smiled.
“My pleasure, milord,” he said.
After the butler had gone, Michael tore open the envelope. He detoured to his study, reading the letter as he was walking. He was too anxious to read the entire thing, so he skipped to the middle. It was a short letter, but it only took him a moment to understand its contents. The earl had accepted his offer for his daughter’s hand. And he was happy to trade the coveted vase for a traditional dowry.
Michael could hardly contain his excitement as he tossed the letter onto his desk. The vase he had so desperately sought, the vase which other collectors were also seeking, was soon to be his. Moreover, he had an announcement that would surely please his mother. At long last, not only would he have the fine item to add to his collection, but he would also have his mother off his case about marriage.
He hurried to the dining hall, where his mother was already seated. She looked up at him, looking him over and raising her eyebrow slightly.
“Good morning, dear,” she said cautiously. “You seem to be in excellent spirits this morning.”
Michael grinned, walking over to kiss his mother on the cheek, a rare sign of affection for him, before he took his seat across from her at the table. He loved his mother, but she had been unrelenting in her mission to see him married. That day, however, was the happiest Michael had been since before inheriting the cursed station of duke. And knowing that his mother would finally leave him in peace about the matter of marriage made him feel exceptionally delighted.
“Good morning, Mother,” he said, taking his seat. “And yes, I most certainly am.”
