Page 7 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
After a long silence, Lydia finally broke it. “Would you like to continue to stroll?”
“Oh, er...” Miss Farthington turned to her with a smile. “I don’t think I’m up for much more. And besides, there’s business for me to tend to at the school.”
Lydia nodded, though her heart felt heavy in her chest. The weather was only just starting to be nice enough for strolls such as this one, and she did so enjoy reading out of doors.
Miss Farthington squeezed her arm. “You go on. Kitty can accompany you while Dolores goes back to the school with me.”
They glanced back to see the maids waiting expectantly.
“Are you certain?”
Miss Farthington nodded. “Of course!”
With one last parting smile, Miss Farthington and Dolores departed, and Lydia and a blissfully quiet Kitty walked farther into the park until they found Lydia’s favorite reading spot. There was a bench nearby, which Lydia gestured for Kitty to use so she could work on her knitting. She preferred to lean against the thick trunk of a tree a little ways off, hidden from the path with its pedestrians, and for long splendid minutes she lost herself in the world of Elsbeth and Demetrius and their grand adventure.
It was bliss...until she was interrupted.
“She likely just didn’t see you,” an amused sounding man was saying.
“She did, though. Her gaze connected with mine and—”
“Good heavens, do you hear yourself?” The first man’s low baritone voice was laced with laughter. It was such an inviting sound that Lydia felt a smile curving her lips before she even realized it was happening.
Her lips, it seemed, had a mind of their own.
“Besides, we were discussing something far more important than your love life,” the gentleman with the lovely rumbly voice continued in that same amused tone. “Or lack thereof.”
Lydia’s smile broadened at his wry aside.
Curiosity warred with timidity, but after a heartbeat’s hesitation she gave in to the urge to sneak a peek at the man whose voice was like that of Demetrius or one of her other favorite heroes come to life. Or at least, how she imagined them to sound.
She peeked around the trunk of the tree and gasped as she recognized the same absurdly handsome tall gentleman she’d spied earlier with Mary and the others.
He and that scientist friend of his that Mary recognized had stopped on the path near where Lydia stood.
For a long moment she let herself take him in, from the chestnut lock of hair that fell over his forehead as if rebelling against his perfect looks, to the animated features that were so very mesmerizing.
The scientist—Mr. Grant, Mary had called him, sighed with exasperation. “What were we talking about then, Hogan?”
The tall man’s gaze roamed in her direction, and with a start she ducked behind the tree again, her pulse racing.
Goodness, how embarrassing. She’d almost been caught spying on the men.
No sooner had she thought it then the handsome gentleman answered, “We were talking about espionage.”
3
Luke’s friend sputtered and then laughed outright at his pronouncement.
“Espionage,” Richard muttered. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
As if the ideawereridiculous.
As if he wasn’t talking to a man whose life until recently had included a good deal of espionage.
But Luke hardly noticed Richard’s laughter because he was too busy peering into the trees for another sight ofher.The mystery woman who’d been there one moment and then ducked behind a tree the next.
How very odd.
