Page 29 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
If he worked with her father, surely he couldn’t be a villain.
And he’d sought her out. He’d been looking for her.
The thought made her heart thump and thud, rocketing about in her chest like a wild stallion fighting its reins.
No one ever noticed her—her own fault, of course, but it was still the truth. No one ever saw her.
Until now. Until him.
She shook off the thought and focused on her friend.
“Miss Farthington,” Lydia said. “I am so glad you joined us this evening.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Miss Farthington’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe I’ll finally get to meet this mystery man of yours.”
Lydia’s lips parted in surprise as Miss Farthington laughed. “Your mother has told me so much about this Sir Wendell fellow during her visits to the school, I feel as though I already know him, but you have been remarkably mum.”
Lydia shrugged, her heart faltering. Wendell. What had her mother been telling Miss Farthington about him?
That he was handsome?
He was.
That he was wealthy?
This much was a given. Whatever he’d done when he’d gone abroad, he’d clearly added to his family’s already full coffers. And it was true that he came from a good family, and had good prospects, and…
Lydia sighed. Just thinking of her mother’s exhaustive list of Wendell’s virtues was exhausting.
Miss Farthington leaned against the vanity as she regarded Lydia with curiosity. “So? Is this Wendell fellow what has your eyes sparkling this evening?”
Lydia glanced at her reflection. “Are they sparkling?” She adjusted her mask slightly. “How can you tell?”
Miss Farthington laughed as she’d hoped she would. Then she wagged her finger teasingly. “And then there’s this.” She narrowed her eyes in feigned suspicion. “You have been coming out of your shell lately, my dear, as I’d hoped you would. But much as I’d love to take the credit, I do not believe I am the cause of the transformation.”
“Oh, but you are!” Lydia said. Her eagerness was sincere. “You and Mary and Eloise...” Lydia reached out in an impulsive gesture and caught the other woman’s hand. “I’ve never felt like I belonged before.”
Her words dried up. She wasn’t nervous around Miss Farthington—nor Mary and Eloise—not anymore, at least. But she still wasn’t used to putting emotions into words and the task was overwhelming.
“I understand, dear,” Miss Farthington said when Lydia grew suddenly silent.
To Lydia’s surprise, Miss Farthington’s eyes grew shiny with unshed tears. “I feel the same, you know.”
Lydia blinked in surprise. “You do?”
Her friend nodded.
“But you seem so...so confident,” she finished lamely. How to say that despite whatever whiff of scandal had led Miss Farthington to the School of Charm, the woman had more dignity, grace, and good-natured humor than anyone Lydia had ever met.
She seemed to be the sort of woman who could be at home anywhere she chose to rest.
Miss Farthington shrugged. “I was at an odd point in life when the opportunity came along to run the finishing school. Not bad, necessarily, but...” She drew in a deep breath andsmiled brightly. “New beginnings are exciting, to be certain, but they can be frightening as well.”
Lydia nodded eagerly. This much she very well understood.
Miss Farthington squeezed her hand again. “And defying the expectations of those around you,” she said meaningfully. “That is even more daunting.”
Lydia nodded again. “Yes, I can imagine.”
