Page 22 of The Duke's Tempting Widow
Weston’s clothes were tailored for him personally at his manor and then delivered once it was finished. He socialized at the club and did not have to do so in ribbon shops or feel the need to peruse news stands for topics to discuss.
Neither girl seemed to have a shortage of things to speak about once they decided that they were not intimidated by him. Even their governess seemed to have some difficulty in curtailing them from wishing to be everywhere at once. Their arms were already laden with ribbons, and they were arm in arm in front of himself and Lydia as they moved down the street, smiling at everyone that they passed.
“I must thank you for this outing, Your Grace.” Lydia said to him. It was the first thing that she had voluntarily spoken to him in many days. If they were not in company of others, he would have teased her for it.
Though, he knew the importance of pretending to still only be acquaintances. If only Lydia knew how poorly he had been sleeping these last few nights. So many years of searching for her and now to have her and still not be able to touch her as he wished? She was avoiding speaking to him, and it was nothing short of torture.
She would have to forgive him for the ice shop. He could not sit so near to her and pretend that he did not feel anything for her. He had to touch her, as often as possible and anywhere that she would permit, or he felt as if he might go mad.
“What are you thanking me for?” He asked.
Lydia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Could she not at least look at him and put him out of this misery? “The girls have been filled with sadness since their father passed, this is the first time that I have seen them smile in weeks.”
“I am happy to be of assistance,” he said simply, as they came to a stop outside of a shoe store. He stood just outside, letting the warmth of the afternoon sun soak into his skin as the girls and their governess went inside to examine the wares. “Were they close with their father?”
Lydia bit down on her bottom lip, folding her hands delicately in front of herself as she considered her answer. “They were. My husband was a lovely father to them. He was very devoted in his paternal duties.”
“A better father than a husband, perhaps?”
He did not mean offense by the question, but from the look that she cut him, he was clearly treading in dangerous waters. “I will not abide any negative talk about the dead, Your Grace.”
“That was not my intention, not in the slightest,” Weston attempted to explain. He took a step to her, closing some of the icy distance between them. He almost expected her to move away. “Lydia, how am I supposed to get to know you any better if you will not even speak to me. Every conversation that I attempt is met with barbs.”
“Please do not address me so informally, Your Grace. Certainly not in such public spaces. I would not like people to get the wrong idea. I have been very diligent in my reputation here. All of the shopkeepers know me and the work that I did for my husband, and—”
“And you do not wish me to embarrass you. Is that it?” Weston could not help himself from pushing just a little more. “There are far more pleasurable ways to bring that pretty pink to your skin, my lady, if only you would permit me.”
On cue, Lydia blushed the loveliest shade of pink that he had ever seen in his life.
The way her hands clenched into fists in front of her, he thought that if she had been holding a fan, she might have surrendered to the impulse to hit him with it.
“Mama, mama!” Juliet exclaimed as she came rushing out of the store. Did Lydia know how alike the pair of them looked? It was the strangest thing, both girls seemed to have Lydia’s same eyes despite that not even being possible for Margaret. The older daughter was holding a pair of satin slippers that were a lilac shade of purple with a blue bow on top. “Come and look at these!”
“No, these first! Look, they match my robe, mama!” Margaret said excitedly. Every time that Lydia was near either girl, they both seemed to crave her attention. The governess started explaining something about the shoes and a sale that was happening, but they walked too far for Weston to hear them properly.
It did not feel right to intrude on their moment. Though he was more than happy to fund their shopping trips, some part of him was certain that Lydia would be offended by the notion.
Watching them as they were, seeing Lydia smiling at her daughters brought about mixed feelings for Weston. On the one hand, he could not stomach the idea of removing a child from her mother.
Clearly, Margaret felt that Lydia was every bit her mother as the one who had passed away in his cousin’s first marriage. Secondly, he could not separate sisters. It would be cruel. Given that the will was written so long before his present marriage, it left Weston in a difficult position.
It would be far easier to dream up solutions to that problem if he were not constantly wondering what Margaret and Juliet would look like if they shared his genetics instead of his cousins. A family was something that every titled man knows that he will eventually have to settle down and have, but shopping with the girls today was the first time that he could actually envision such a thing for himself.
More than that, watching the way Lydia’s face lit up the moment that the girls started speaking to her… it was something else entirely. Even now as they showed her slipper after slipper, rapidly asking for her thoughts and opinions, she was laughing. It might be the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen in his life.
Could he have truly expected anything less from the fierce woman that he met all those years ago? A woman who was unafraid to go for what she desired without shame? Of course she would fight for her daughters now. Of course, she would pursue her happiness and wish to ensure their future.
Before this outing, Weston did not think that he ever would have thought that a maternal nature could be attractive. He had segregated women in his life, those whom he beddedand those whom he did not. They rarely ever crossed—and those with heavy maternal instincts were usually the ones that he didnot.
Lydia broke each and every one of his rules and she did not even know it.
It only made him want her that much more.
The girls purchased their slippers, only this time they passed the bags to him with bright smiles before heading down the street to yet another shop. A perfume maker if he was not mistaken. He had not thought that this village would have been quite so prosperous but there were far more businesses than he’d imagined.
Lydia had done such a wonderful job managing the estate and funneling funds into the town. The first two shops that they had entered today had seen her black mourning gown and almost refused to allow her to pay for a thing.
Lydia did not hang back to walk beside him this time as she trailed behind the girls and their governess, forcing him to jog to catch up to her.
