Page 49 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected with that admission, but her sudden frown was not it.
“Oh, but you can’t...” she started.
“Why not?” he demanded. For a moment, that vile jealousy was back. Did she already have a suitor? But no, she’d said her mother was desperate for her to make a match.
Was it just him then?
“Because people will think...” Even in this dim light he could see the blush creeping into her cheeks. “They’ll think...”
“That I’m courting you,” he finished for her. That sense of satisfaction was back just saying the words aloud. “Let them.”
He could say more, but he didn’t trust himself yet. And it wouldn’t do to frighten the young lady with his ardor. She’d need time. She deserved wooing.
And besides, he ought to think this through first. He needed to come to grips with this new reality himself before he started spouting off about how he wished to court her.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that this was precisely what he’d been trying to avoid. He wasn’t ready to give up a life of adventure. He had no desire to settle down and start a family.
However, that knowledge felt weak compared to the way his heart was begging him to lean down and kiss her.
But they were alone in the dark and he’d never do anything to frighten her.
So, he reached for her hand instead and lifted it to his lips. “Wait for me, Lydia. And I will come for you.”
14
Lydia stood before her startled mother, her chin held high with determination as she repeated herself. “I would like to go back to the finishing school today, please.”
“Oh, but...” Her mother’s brows were drawn together in confusion. Not at the request—that was straightforward enough for anyone to understand—but at Lydia’s insistence.
Lady Baker turned to her husband with that quizzical look and he shrugged from where he sat behind the newspaper. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t go back today rather than tomorrow if that’s what she wants.”
“Yes, but...” Her mother huffed. “Sir Wendell is to join us for dinner this evening.”
That caused her father to lower his newspaper with a frown. “Lydia, you really ought to stay for dinner with Wendell.” He smiled gently. “He’s coming to see you, after all.”
Imogene smirked from where she sat working on her embroidery. After her father had asked her several more times to explain how she’d come to meet Lord Galena, he and her mother had apparently agreed with Imogene’s assessment—he’d asked her to dance as an act of charity.
A nice way of saying he’d acted out of pity.
She wished she could have argued, but she could hardly say, ‘That’s not true. He asked me because he thought me to be some traitor’s mistress.’
It wouldn’t have helped matters, and she suspected she’d never be allowed to see the viscount again.
And she had to see him. That interlude in the dark library couldn’t have been her one and only taste of adventure, of mystery, of romance...
Oflife.
Wait for me, Lydia. And I will come for you.
That had been lovely to hear, but...when?
Her mind had been racing relentlessly since they’d parted, and she bristled with impatience as the minutes and hours ticked by. There were too many questions left unanswered.
Could Wendell truly be involved in something so dastardly? She frowned as her mind called up memory after memory of Wendell’s cruelty as a child.
Oh yes, she could believe it easier than one might expect. It wouldn't even surprise her, really.
And there was no way she could sit across from him at dinner while the question was in her mind. What was more, she couldn’t stay in this house one second longer when there was a cryptic missive to be read that somehow involved her beloved Elsbeth and Demetrius. She felt certain Lord Galena would not wish to show her the missive or speak to her on the topic at all while she was still here in her father’s house.
