Page 42 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
Which made no sense at all, obviously.
He started to go after her, but Sir Cedric’s hand came down on his arm. “We are not through discussing this,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Cedric,” his wife said, alarm and a false note of laughter in her voice. “Is something the matter?”
“Not at all,” Luke answered for the man, calling on years upon years of hiding behind a charming smile and laughing eyes. “Sir Cedric and I had a misunderstanding, that’s all.”
He turned to the other man, who wasn’t nearly as easily fooled. But he kept the smile in place and shook his head. “You misunderstood me, Sir Cedric.”
His former employer’s brows drew down in a scowl. “Did I?”
“Indeed, I was not pointing to...” He cleared his throat and glanced at the others meaningfully.
Sir Cedric’s nostrils flared and his lips quivered, but after a moment, he dropped his hand from Luke’s arm. “That was your last mistake, Lord Galena.”
He said it softly, so only Luke could hear.
It gave him a pang, but his mind and his heart were too anxious to leave to give it too much thought. He turned to bow for the ladies. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Oh, but—” Lydia’s sister started.
He pretended he didn’t hear her as he followed in the direction Lydia had disappeared.
12
The library was always a sanctuary, but never more so than right now.
Lydia sank to her bottom beside the bookcase and rested her cheek against a row of Shakespeare’s tragedies.
She hadn’t brought a candle with her, and the moonlight coming through the window didn’t give much light, but she’d spent so much time in this room, she knew where each book lay on every shelf like the back of her hand.
She heaved a sigh. How long could she hide here before her mother sent someone to find her?
Lud, but she hoped she didn’t send Wendell. She couldn’t bear any more of his pleasantries.
How funny it was, she thought with absolutely no amusement. She’d spent her whole childhood wishing Wendell would be kind to her.
And now he was and she couldn’t stand it.
She heard footsteps approaching the door and held her breath.
Maybe they’d send Miss Farthington. Or Mary. Oh, how she would love to see a friendly face right about now.
She lifted hands to touch the burning heat of her cheeks as the footsteps receded.
He’d been teasing her, that was all she could figure. But she still had so many questions. Why did her father seem so angry? And if this was the noble, chivalrous, oh-so-wonderful viscount she’d heard so much about, why had he sought her out the way he had?
She rubbed at her temples but froze all over again when she heard it once more. The footsteps were coming back this way.
She started to scramble backward, toward the back of the library just as the door swung open.
For a moment all she could make out was a tall form, backlit by the light of the hallway. But then, with a muffled oath, the newcomer stepped out into the hallway and came back carrying a candle.
She gasped. And like a dolt, she gave away her presence here.
“Miss Lydia?” Lord Galena managed to say her name in that way of his. That droll, charming way that made it seem like everything was a joke.
No,shewas a joke. At first, she’d thought perhaps Imogene had put him up to it. She could just hear her sister laughing over Lydia thinking that a dashing hero like Lord Galena had actually been interested in her. But that didn’t make any sense.
