by Tessa Candle
“It seemed only polite.” Aldley hated the way his voice faltered.
“Good Lord, man! For someone who is trying not to create expectations, you are doing everything short of getting down on one knee to do so. Can you not see that?”
“Do you think the father is expecting me to propose, then?” Aldley had to suppress a smile.
Rutherford gave a pained look to the heavens above him. “I certainly should do, in his place. Can you really have forgotten all your tricks for evading matrimony? You were rather adept at it before you fled to the continent.”
“I did not flee.”
“Perhaps not,” Rutherford laughed, “but you might consider it now.”
“It is hardly a matter of such desperation.” After all, she was lovely to look at and much more interesting than the other young women he had met in society.
She seemed decent in a way that people of his class held in disdain. He had to marry sometime, and provide an heir. Whom did he think he was hoaxing? She was utterly irresistible.
“All I shall say is have a care, Aldley. You do not know what you are about. Unless...”
“Unless what?” It was Aldley's turn to feign boredom. He rubbed an eye.
“Well, unless, of course, you do know what you are about.”
“I see what you mean.” Aldley tried to sound indifferent.
“Do you? Frankly, you should court this girl. She is rich, beautiful and charming. I should marry her myself, if the horse was included in the bargain—except that I fear she might just ride better than I do, which would be too humiliating. But you have no such vanities.”
“Certainly not. And I dare say there is some merit to your theory, for when you speak of marrying her as though she were a sack of oats to be thrown into a horse market deal, I feel rather inclined to plant you a facer.”
“Well, then, that is settled.” Rutherford slapped Aldley's shoulder and laughed at him until his eyes streamed.
Chapter 16
Lydia stood with her mother before the long mirror in her dressing room, trying on gowns. The emerald green silk brought out the green of her eyes, though it also made her nose look a bit pink.
“May I borrow your emerald pendant, Mama?”
“It will be too much green, trust me.” Her mother shook her head. “You would do much better with the amethyst. In fact I should very much like to see you in the wine velvet with the amethyst.”
Lydia huffed. “But that dress is so heavy, Mama. Will it not get dreadfully hot?”
“What is a little heat? This is not just a matter of amusement, my dear. Though I hope you shall enjoy yourself, your principal duty is to be a credit to your family and to secure a husband—preferably Lord Aldley. Other trifling considerations should fall by the wayside.”
“But if I get hot, my skin will turn all horrid and red.” Lydia knew it was shameless manipulation, but it was the only way to persuade her determined mother.
“True. It might be better to save the velvet gowns for engagements with no dancing. In fact this new muslin would be better for a ballroom—it floats so beautifully. I wish I had such light fabrics when I was a girl. However, you must be turned out in an expensive fabric for the Aldley ball, so silk it shall be, but in the wine colour.”
Her mother pursed her lips thoughtfully. “And the amethyst. Definitely the amethyst.”
The ball was not for some time, but Mrs. Norwood was determined to make certain everything was planned out perfectly in advance.
Lydia forced herself to be compliant and attentive. She was only following her father's adjuration to make a good match. This ball was an excellent opportunity, after all. She supposed that all this silly preparation and fixation on appearance was made a little more pleasant by the thought that it might make her more attractive to Lord Aldley.
Perhaps she was a fool to even hope for it, but did his actions not suggest an interest? He had ensured that Ari could stay at Nesterling, that they would not be separated. What man buys a horse and leaves it in the hands of its previous owner?
Surely that was for her. Her heart fluttered. He was her hero. Even if he were not so devastatingly attractive, such evidence of kindness and consideration made her think she would not object to being his wife, to having him draw her close as Delacroix had once done. Such things must be much more agreeable if experienced with the right man.
“Stop gathering wool, darling. Do turn round so I can attach this. Yes. That is just the thing. I have some amethyst hair pins. I shall consult Miss Grey as to their use when she comes tomorrow. Now let Harding get you out of this dress—carefully, mind.”
Lydia was relieved when Tilly called shortly after her extrication from the silk gown. She ushered her friend into her little parlour.
“Thank the Lord you are here,” Lydia huffed, “for I have not been allowed out of the house since we returned from Nesterling Lodge.”
“That may be prudent with Delacroix on the prowl.” Tilly seated herself.
“But Father does not know about that, yet he has nonetheless been quite adamant.” Lydia omitted to tell her friend about his threat to cut the tree down and bar her window if she sneaked out of her room again. She did not think her father was joking, either. “It seems strange that he is suddenly so severe. He is not usually so.”
“Presumably he is concerned that you not be seen behaving like a savage now that there is such an eligible prospect on the horizon.” Tilly turned her head to the side and gave Lydia a mischievous look.
She knew her friend was joking, for Tilly did not know the half of it. “I believe you are right. He lectured me almost the entire journey about doing everything I can to secure Lord Aldley. It was as though he were not my father at all, but a man possessed by the spirit of my mother.”
He need not have wasted his breath. She was well aware that she had feelings for the earl, but even if those feelings were returned, could he overlook her birth and her relative poverty, should he come to know of it?
“Well, it is a sound plan—for it certainly means something that Lord Aldley extended you a personal invitation to the ball.” Tilly nodded thoughtfully. “And I cannot believe he made that arrangement with the horse for any other reason than consideration for your feelings.”
“I am so grateful to him for it. True, he is a wonderful, kind man. I could not stand the idea of losing Aristophanes.” Lydia shook her head.
“I wonder at your father selling him.”
This was a perilous topic. Lydia decided to change it. “He says I had better put away jumping over fences and find a husband. I believe he wishes me to focus all my energy on securing Lord Aldley. But I simply do not know how one goes about securing anyone, let alone an earl.”
“I think if the earl has taken an interest in you, as he certainly seems to have done, it must be at least in spite of your social ignorance.” Tilly looked thoughtful.
Lydia could not help smiling at the offhanded way that her friend insulted her without intending to give offence.
Tilly continued, “It may even be that he prefers your country manners to the extremely calculating refinements that he has encountered among the young ladies of the ton. I have heard he is a bit straight-laced.”
“Far better than crooked-laced,” Lydia retorted.
“To each their own.” Tilly pursed her lips. “But I do not think you should attempt to secure him. Only take every opportunity to speak with him and become better acquainted. Of course, I do not know the earl, but I believe it is preferable to appear like you are not trying to catch him.”
“Your advice conveniently corresponds to my own feelings in the matter. I should very much like to get to know Lord Aldley better. And, while I admit that I greatly prefer his company to any other young man I have met, I should never wish to throw myself at him.”
“Well, it is settled then. But surely you must be less calm than you seem about this last minute invitation.” Tilly looked at her with mock suspicion. “I wonder how L
ady Aldley feels about this. But no, I do not wish to spoil your enjoyment by thinking on unpleasant topics.”
“I view the ball as a necessary evil to be endured for the goal of spending more time with Lord Aldley.” Lydia chafed her hands. “The scrutiny of Lady Aldley is the aspect which I least look forward to. I am also a little anxious about the calibre of guests. Surely I shall be the only commoner.”
“That may well be. But if you encounter snobbery, simply remember this formula: your allowance tallies up to a good half the annual income of three quarters of them.”
“Perhaps.” Lydia could not correct her friend on this point, but it stung a bit to think that her one claim to distinction had been her wealth, and those days were past.
It reminded her that she should look into investing some of her saved allowance. Surely she could contact a solicitor to manage it for her.
“But I hope that, at least for an earl, the amount of my settlement will not be an important consideration.”
“It might be too much to ask of a mere mortal that he should not think on it at all. However, I have asked around, and the general consensus is that Lord Aldley's principle flaw is not gambling or debauchery or fortune-hunting. In fact, he is something of a prude.”
“One might call it having a good character.” Lydia scowled at Tilly.
Tilly just rolled her eyes and continued, “His principle flaw, according to the ton, is not vice but rather a somewhat ignoble predilection for closely managing his own investments. This brings him, on occasion, perilously close to the insufferably vile realm of,” she mouthed the word, “trade.”
“Well, I shall not be the one to hold that against him.” Lydia huffed at the stupidity of the beau monde.
“Nor I. You see, unlike the ton, we are disinclined to judge our fellow man for sins that our own fathers have dabbled in. It will not do, of course. We are simply not hypocritical enough to be genteel.”
Lydia's laugh fell a little flat, for she was feeling rather too hypocritical for much levity. Now that her father's finances were so very compromised, she felt her own situation was not entirely unlike that of a fortune hunter.
“But back to Lord Aldley.” Tilly dismissed her digression with a wave of her hand. “It seems that as a consequence of his unfashionable approach to money-making, he is astoundingly rich, even for an earl. Not quite as rich as your father, of course, or mine, but still very rich. So I think it unlikely that he would be disproportionately interested in your fortune.”
“That is a relief. But wherever do you get all of this information?”
“You must simply resign yourself to the fact that I have ways and means, Lydia.” Tilly gave her a look of arch superiority.
“You are mysterious, but I shall not indulge your self-importance by pleading for disclosure. However, talking of taking an interest in investments, would you be very disappointed if I said that I harbour inclinations in that direction myself?” Lydia wanted to talk to someone about her investment plans, and Tilly was really the only person who might understand.
“I should be delighted to hear it—so delighted in fact, that I should refrain from gossiping about it, for it would not help you at all in the earl's circles. What the earl can get away with is very different than what the reputation of a nouveau riche female can support. Still, if one is clever and careful, one may do a great many things without detection. But you do realize that women cannot really invest the way that men can.”
“Yes, that is my difficulty. I believe I shall need the assistance of a solicitor to start a trust for me and take directions in its management.”
“I can see you have some knowledge of these things. That is good.” Tilly looked thoughtful.
“And, it cannot be my father's lawyer.”
“Quite. But of course, you do not really need to do this.”
“Of course not, but I believe I should find it quite diverting.” Lydia tried to sound light-hearted. “And, really, though I believe my father will be careful in the structuring of my settlement, it would not be such a very bad thing to have a little something outside of my future husband's reach—should I marry. One hears of so many stellar matches that turn out to be... horribly disappointing.”
“Yes, one does.” Tilly nodded. “I very much approve of planning against unpleasant future events. And it so happens that I know of just the lawyer for the job. But we must be very subtle and discreet in our planning.” She smiled a little, crooked smirk. “It will be great fun. Leave it in my hands for now. I shall arrange a meeting and provide some chaperones who know how to keep their mouths shut.”
Not for the first time, Lydia was struck by the strange array of resources her friend possessed. It proved useful, but why would a soon-to-be-married, pampered young woman require silent chaperones, acquaintance with lawyers, and the means of locating and redeeming stolen jewellery?
Tilly's brother was the ostensible agent of the jewellery retrieval, but Lydia had met the mild-mannered brother, and was not convinced. And it was improbable that Tilly would let herself be excluded from any opportunity for intrigue.
“Speaking of keeping one's mouth shut, you have not told me how the Delacroix earring case has turned out. Did Mrs. Delacroix take the abigail back?” Lydia asked.
“No. I have taken on Marie. I had to soothe the feelings of my lady's maid, Browning, of course, but I believe it is settled now. Marie assists. She is reasonably good with hair, and fantastic at mending and making adjustments to clothing. And she is alarmingly loyal to me—the poor girl was so grateful. Miss Delacroix's loss has been my boon.”
“I congratulate you, but I think your spirit of equity has made you very deserving of the reward. I suppose Lady Delacroix remains silent about the topic, then.”
“Oh yes. Most silent. The official story is that Delacroix is visiting family in the countryside. No one has seen him in town for some time. I believe he is hiding from his creditors, but I suspect he remains in town. He does not strike me as a man much predisposed to the quiet amusements of country life.”
“Yes, I see what you mean.” Lydia's shoulders drooped a little. “I suppose it would be too much to hope for that he had actually cleared off.”
“You cannot let your guard down. His disappearance is only evidence of concealment, and therefore desperation, which means he is more dangerous than ever.”
“Certainly. I only wish to be permitted out of the house, now and again.” Lydia pouted. “I feel myself a prisoner in my own home. It is quite unjust.”
“You father will let you out, at least to make calls, I am sure. He doesn't know about Mr. Delacroix's advances. He is merely trying to keep you presentable, now that there may be an earl interested. And you shall attend the ball. In the meantime,” Tilly tossed her curls, “I shall not take offence if you do not return my calls. I shall never snub you.”
“That is a kindly promise. But you should better choose your friends, for you know I shall not be seen with the likes of you when I become a countess.” Lydia pursed her lips, and fixed Tilly with an arch look.
“Quite. I made you out to be just such an infidel.”
“Do you fancy a trip to the shops this afternoon?” Lydia was feeling indulgent as she should not be, and little desperate for escape. “I wish to buy something to read. I think if we took your chaise and had servants with us, it would be safe, and must appear respectable enough even for my father.
Tilly agreed to call for her in the afternoon with two man servants, her maid, and the recently hired Marie.
When they were settled in Tilly's rose scented carriage, and well on their way, Tilly squinted at Lydia. “Hatchards? Seems a little dry for you.”
Lydia lifted her chin. “I do not only read novels, you know. I like to read educational material as well.”
“Indeed. Well, then, do not let me be the one to dissuade a young woman from improving her mind.”
Lydia was facing her friend, as they walked into the shop. “I must compens
ate myself for having spent the entire morning in the tedium of trying on ball gowns.”
“So tell me, what are you looking for?” Tilly queried, throwing a hungry look over Lydia's shoulder as she spoke.
“I have heard a small collection of sketches and commentary on the fossilized remains of ancient creatures has been published. A curious woman named Mary Anning has been gathering and assembling these bones. Along with bezoar stones, which, it turns out, are actually fossilized...” She leaned in and grinned at her friend, “poop.”
Tilly, though clearly diverted, was still looking over Lydia's shoulder.
When Lydia turned and saw Rutherford approaching, she blushed, thinking he must have been close enough to overhear her words. “Mr. Rutherford. How very nice to see you again so soon.”
“Indeed, it is a pleasure, Miss Norwood. Am I to understand that you are fond of books as well as horses?” His smile was wolfish.
“Yes, I am. I do not believe I could give up either. May I introduce my friend?” She watched his face as she made the introductions.
His eyes were fixed and dilated a little as he took in Tilly's features. He smiled at her a little stupidly, but Lydia could not detect any evidence of amusement, so perhaps he had not heard the naughty comment.
It was considered bad breeding to eavesdrop on other peoples' conversations, after all. But perhaps he had just been knocking about with the nobility enough to acquire some of that unwavering sang froid.
“So you are Lord Aldley's friend.” Tilly was playing it polite, but she wore an impish smile that Lydia knew she reserved for people that she liked.
“I believe he would own it himself, on most days. We met as school boys.” Rutherford was now quite openly staring at Tilly.
“That is a long acquaintance.” Tilly breathed in deeply so that her bosom heaved. “You must know him well. And how is he enjoying his recent acquisition?”
“You mean, the stallion?” Rutherford stepped incrementally closer to Tilly. “I believe he is very pleased with the bargain. I admit to being a little jealous of his luck. I dearly love riding and hunting—I am so fond of my dogs that I bring them with me to town, selfish as it is. I should very much like to someday find such a hunter for myself. Aristophanes is magnificent, and Miss Norwood here is an excellent rider. She has trained him very well.”