A Lover for Lydia (The Wednesday Club Book 4)

by Sahara Kelly

  “Only the curate can match her interest in…well, that sort of thing.” Lady Susan waved a hand, airily dismissing most of the immortal works of centuries. “And he’s a bit of a come-down for her. She’ll have a considerable dowry from the Winwood estate…”

  “Ah,” nodded Lydia sagely, glad to have re-directed the conversation away from herself.

  Before Lady Susan could make any further observations upon the unfortunate Miss Winwood, the door opened and Prudence strolled in, a wide smile on her face as she looked around the room.

  “Well goodness. It’s the Maiden Shore division of the Wednesday Club.”

  The laughter was general, the welcome prolonged, and Lydia heaved a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to deal with during her holiday was a busybody matchmaker who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  *~~*~~*

  “Room for one more?” A face peered around the door.

  Prudence finished greeting everyone and turned to see who was there. “Ah, my travelling companion,” she smiled. “Mowbray, come and meet Lord and Lady Staunton.”

  Stepping cautiously inside, Mowbray Linfield eyed the assorted gathering, relieved that he knew all of them except for the older couple, one of whom—the female half—had bounded up and was approaching him like a small tugboat with a full head of steam.

  He braced himself.

  “Another handsome gentleman. I am beside myself with joy,” she beamed, enfolding him in a lot of blue ruffly stuff. “What a lovely summer it’s going to be. So many young people keeping us lively, don’t you agree Francis?”

  She barely paused to acknowledge her husband’s nod. “Now that you’re here, the numbers are close to even.”

  Mowbray applauded himself for not stepping on any of the blue fabric. He opened his mouth, then shut it again as another voice spoke.

  “Don’t forget we have guests coming soon as well,” added Sir Francis. He turned to Colly. “You’ll probably remember William Furness? Viscount Alderton’s youngest? He’s back from the Grand Tour. Going to spend a month or so with us to rusticate a bit.”

  The Duke’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe he’s that old. I recall him as an annoying sprig in short coats.”

  “Oh, they do grow up so quickly,” laughed Lady Susan. “I’m sure he’ll be bringing a friend or two with him though. Which will even up the numbers for us. So nice to have a bit of gaiety now and then.” She glanced at Ivy. “Also, since we have a rather useful dock, we’re opening our house to someone I think you and Colly already know? Sir Ronan O’Malley?”

  Ivy blinked. “Oh goodness, yes. His gardeners have done some amazing work for us at Hartsmere House.”

  “Such a lovely gentleman. He’s sailing down and will tie up, or berth, or whatever they call it, up against our pier.” Lady Susan grinned “He’s promised to take me out on the water, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

  “It will be lovely to see him again,” Ivy answered, diplomatically.

  “I wouldn’t mind a trip out on his boat,” mused Lydia. “What do you think, Prudence? Would you enjoy a sail?”

  Prudence glanced around. “Hmm. It might be fun if the weather is good.” She turned to Colly. “Would you allow it, Uncle?”

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  Miles Linfield chuckled. “I remember my mother saying that a lot, when what she meant was absolutely not.” He paused as everyone laughed. “But if you want a good sailor you can trust, why I will be happy to endorse my brother. Mowbray, as my parents often commented, seems to have salt water in his veins.”

  Thus addressed, Mowbray rolled his eyes. “Not quite, Miles.” He fought a blush. “I just like being on the water.”

  “Well, you and Sir Ronan will definitely enjoy your time here then,” Lady Susan said with satisfaction. “Best sailing on the Solent, they say. And the Isle of Wight so close too.”

  That declaration once again diverted attention to a different topic, and Mowbray breathed a sigh of relief. Thus far he’d managed to enter a room, be hugged by a total stranger and find himself a seat, all without breaking anything or tripping over the carpet.

  If he could keep this up during his holiday, it might not be so bad after all.

  His eyes drifted over the assembled gathering.

  Judith and Ragnor looked comfortable and relaxed, Ivy was smiling broadly and the Duke clearly at ease. Looking at his brother and sister-in-law, Miles caught the glimpse they exchanged. A private moment of joy that he could only envy. He was blessed, he knew, to have a brother he actually liked, and Rose? Who could fail to find her delightful charm appealing?

  He sighed. And then his gaze found Lydia.

  Vibrant, beautiful and elegant, he knew her face well, but glimpsed something in her eyes—a yearning, perhaps? He wasn’t sure, but it was gone before he could study it. His orderly mind catalogued the moment for examination and consideration at a later time, and he turned to see Prudence laughing at something Lady Staunton said.

  Yes, it was a good group of friends. Ones who stood by each other, looked out for each other, and would fearlessly protect each other should the occasion arise. Which it had, quite recently.

  Mowbray let his gaze drift to the huge windows and the sea beyond. For one used to town views, or those from Linfield Lisle where he spent most of his time, this expanse of glittering waves and blue skies was intriguingly lovely.

  He vowed not to waste a moment while here. And if he could avoid any overt clumsiness, so much the better.

  Chapter Three

  Prepared for a variety of gatherings, Lydia wasn’t surprised to find herself walking down a steep cliff path toward the beach, accompanied by Ivy, the Duke, Prudence, Rose, Miles and Mowbray.

  Lady Staunton had declared that she would be having a “tea” on the shore, assuming clear skies, as an introduction to the summer festivities.

  The weather, obviously understanding that it should behave itself for this delightful event, decided to present the attendees with unlimited sunshine and a playful breeze. The ripples glittered on the water, and the Isle of Wight looked as if one might touch it if one could reach far enough.

  The idle thought tripped through Lydia’s mind as Mowbray held out his hand first to Prudence, then to her as they stepped down a couple of wooden stairs onto the sand.

  She reached up to clutch her bonnet lest it drift off her head and laughed as Prudence almost lost hers.

  There were people already gathered around tables set up in front of a very green lawn, and once on the beach, Lydia could see that the grass led to a charming house a little way from the waters on a rise between the undulating coastline. She imagined the views would be spectacular, no matter what the time of year.

  “If she hugs me again, I shall come undone,” grumbled Mowbray in her ear.

  She bit back a laugh. “Oh nonsense. Lady Susan is a darling.” She glanced at him. “And here you are, on a lovely sandy strand, with all your friends around you; I’d have expected you to be enjoying the moment.” She nudged him a little with her elbow and leaned in. “There’s nothing to break here. Think of that.”

  He raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Really? Can you see those tables? That’s crystal or I’m a chimney sweep.”

  Lydia blinked, then nodded. “You’re right.” She sighed. “So much for informality on the edge of the sea. Well, one could only hope.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Mowbray casually tucked her arm through his as they walked.

  “Yes, of course.” She looked at him, her head tilted. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Just being polite.”

  “Mowbray, polite is asking after my family. Or commenting on the weather. Or a dozen other things.”

  He chuckled. “Well then. I’m enquiring as to the state of mind of a friend.”

  Lydia found a warm spot forming around her heart. “You’re a good man, you know. Thank you.”

  He squeezed her arm with his. “Since you and I are
the only unattached—and eligible—persons in our group, discounting Prudence, I think we should stick together, don’t you? Have each other’s back, so to speak.”

  “Why discounting Prudence?”

  He gave her a scornful look. “Lady Susan would doubtless draw the line at matchmaking for a duke’s niece.”

  “True.” She nodded. “Yes, all right. We’ll keep an eye out for each other. But truly, Mowbray, I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Certainly not for you, since I’m sure you’re entirely used to having eligible young ladies thrust your way.”

  His eyes filled with laughter. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that…”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes I do. And usually all I have to do is dance with ‘em, and try to get them back to their Mamas in once piece. But here…I dread the Miss So-and-so would love to see the gardens, Mr Linfield. Or the why don’t you take Lady Whatshername for a stroll along the beach, Mr Linfield. That sort of thing.”

  Lydia shuddered. “I see your point.”

  At that moment, they were hailed by Lady Susan. “Come, come, you two. No dawdling. There’s tea and some of our cook’s delicious scones. And they’re going fast.”

  “Time to do the pretty,” muttered Mowbray.

  “We’ll manage,” answered Lydia. “We always do.”

  They picked up their pace along the beach and as they did so, Mowbray’s boot caught in a long piece of seaweed. He stumbled and would have crashed to his knees if Lydia hadn’t managed to grab and hold his arm before disaster struck.

  He righted himself and glanced at her. “See? This is why I need you to protect me.”

  She grinned at his expression, and the sun caught his hazel eyes just at the right angle as he grinned back, turning them into a golden green.

  She swallowed. Just for an instant she’d felt something ping deep inside. But this was Mowbray, for Heaven’s sake. How absurd.

  The gathering on the sand was growing by leaps and bounds. When the two of them arrived, they were in time to meet another group, this time mostly gentlemen, walking down from the other direction.

  “What ho,” said the tallest man, making his way to Lady Susan. “Here’s my beauty. Ready to run away with me, darling? Let’s go to Jamaica. We’ll swim in the ocean where the water is warm as your bathtub…”

  Lady Susan laughed happily and accorded the new arrival a classic Staunton hug. Today, her shawl and gown were a delicate rose pink, which actually matched rather nicely with the waistcoat of brocade showing beneath the gentleman’s dark jacket.

  “Will, you devil. Stop teasing me or I might take you up on it.” She released him.

  To everyone’s amusement, he fell to his knees. “Fair Goddess, you tantalise me.” He nodded in Sir Francis’s direction. “Leave him. You don’t even need to pack. I’ll whisk you away…” his eyes darted to the ocean, “on that boat. Ship. Yacht. Whatever it is.”

  Lydia, who had found herself next to Lady Susan as Mowbray left her to speak to Miles, couldn’t prevent a laugh. “I wouldn’t accept, my Lady,” she chuckled. “Not unless he can tell what sort of boat that is. And I doubt a wetting in the cold Solent is anything like a swim on a tropical beach. Or a bathtub, for that matter.”

  “Hmm.” The gentleman rose and gazed down at Lydia. “And who is this delightful charmer determined to rain on my proposal?”

  “This is Miss Davenport, Will.” Lady Susan turned to Lydia. “May I present Mr William Furness, Lydia? He and his friends are staying with us for a few days. Such fun.”

  “Mr Furness,” she curtseyed politely.

  “Miss Davenport.” He bowed deeply, flashing her a grin from beneath his lashes as he did so. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He straightened and quirked an eyebrow. “Would you be interested in running away with me?”

  She blinked, then let her lips curve into a smile. “Why Mr Furness, what a scandalously shocking proposal. We barely know each other.”

  “Then we must correct that situation immediately.” He offered her his arm. “Let us walk and I will tell you all about myself.”

  “Of course you will.” She took his arm. “That’s what gentlemen do.”

  “Only if the ladies listen,” he quipped back.

  “Listening and paying attention isn’t always the same thing, though. You must make sure to tell me something interesting, sir. Otherwise…well, I might become distracted.”

  “Hmm.” He made that soft humming sound again. “Let me see now. There’s the time I fought three bears at once as I climbed one of the Alps…”

  “Really? Which Alp?”

  “Er…the biggest one…”

  She gave up and laughed. “Of course. Do tell me more…”

  She allowed him to lead her down the sand, intrigued by his humour and enjoying the walk. She wasn’t about to leap to any immediate decisions, but on first acquaintance, Mr Will Furness was proving to be an interesting man.

  *~~*~~*

  “What do you know about him?” Mowbray spoke quietly to Ivy as he passed her a plate with something edible on it.

  “Who?” She nodded her thanks as she took the plate. “Mr Furness?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not a lot,” Ivy tasted a pastry. “He’s the youngest son of Viscount someone or other. So certainly acceptable socially.” She munched and swallowed. “I doubt he’d be here if he wasn’t, of course, but first impressions? He’s charming, probably a bit of a flirt, and pretty much what one would expect him to be at his age.”

  Mowbray shot her a look. “At his age? You’re speaking, of course, from the vantage point of someone who might well be younger than he is?”

  She snorted. “Observe me, Mowbray. Different gender. Women are always streets ahead of men when it comes down to it. We have to be. Otherwise…” She waved her hands around, indicating utter chaos.

  Rolling his eyes and avoiding the pastry crumbs flying from her fingertips, Mowbray nodded. “All right, yes. I will agree with you on that, since it bears out many of my observations.”

  A shout came from the edge of the water as one or two of the other young men nearly fell in.

  “Mine too.” Ivy sighed.

  Miles strolled over. “What are you two gossiping about?”

  “I don’t gossip,” frowned Mowbray.

  “No, I’ll give you that one,” agreed his brother. “And you haven’t broken anything so far, either.” He grinned at Ivy. “I think our lad is growing into his feet.”

  “I’m not a dog, thank you.” Indignantly, Mowbray stood, his plate wobbling in his hand.

  Ivy caught it neatly before it fell. “Now, now, children. No squabbling. It’s far too lovely a day.”

  “Rose wants to know if you think there will be swimming?” Miles turned to look down the beach. “It’s certainly tempting.”

  “For you, perhaps,” answered Ivy. “You gentlemen can just strip and plunge. We ladies, on the other hand…there’s the bathing wagon that must be brought to the edge by horses. Then we have to struggle into something that permits us to actually enter the ocean. Then we have to sneak out into the water, trying to make sure nobody sees us and then pray that the weight of the water collected by our bathing costumes doesn’t drown us. So tell Rose I don’t have a clue, but we’ll talk about it.”

  Sighing, she stood and put hers and Mowbray’s plates down on a nearby table. “Now I have to circulate a bit and pretend to be a Duchess. You know the sort of thing…all gracious charm and polite manners.”

  “It must be such a hardship. Your Grace.” Miles, unrepentant, snickered.

  “Demon,” she hissed, laughing. “Go and play with the others.”

  Mowbray watched the two of them set off on their own separate ways. He loved the interactions, the friendships and the closeness that had united a variety of people under the umbrella of the Wednesday Club. The girls had found each other quite early on; Judith, Lydia, Rose and Ivy. Also Prudence by default.

&nb
sp; Now augmented by Ragnor, Miles, Colly and Ronan, not to mention himself, the group had become something of inestimable value. Each took and gave freely; if an ear was needed, an ear was there. If solace was required, there was always a shoulder to lean on. And if some pomposity required puncturing, just about all his friends were capable of producing a metaphorical needle to do the job.

  They’d accepted him into their midst without question. They teased him about his clumsiness, but in a way that told him he was valued, not in a way that made him want to shrink into himself.

  He’d had enough of that during his youth.

  Now that Miles and Rose were married, he knew his Mama was paying close attention to what her second son was up to, and didn’t that thought give him the occasional nightmare. But in all fairness, yes, he should—and probably would—get married as well. If the right woman came along.

  His gaze drifted to the blonde strolling the sands, arm-in-arm with a tall man who bent to speak to her.

  He wondered if she was as aware of him as he was of her. He’d always found Lydia to be a mixture of confidence and wit, with an underlying touch of melancholy. She’d probably laugh if he said such a thing to her face, but he held by his opinion just the same.

  Perhaps this little seaside holiday might help him understand her a bit more. He thought he’d rather like that. Could he possibly compete with someone like Mr Furness for her attention? Probably not.

  But then again, he was her friend. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he wasn’t quite sure. Especially since he wasn’t quite sure about his own feelings on the matter of Miss Lydia Davenport.

  “Lost in contemplation?” Colly strolled to his side. “It is a very calming view, isn’t it?”

  Mowbray nodded. “It’s a damn sight better than crowded London streets, that’s for sure. One can breathe here and not choke on it.”

  “One of the many reasons I like coming down for the summer. Cleanses the lungs.”

  Mowbray chuckled. “And a swift dip in the ocean probably wakes up the rest of you. That water looks delightful, but I’ll wager it’s bloody cold.”

  “I won’t take that bet. But we should plan a dip soon.” The Duke gazed wistfully at the soft ripples lapping on the sand. “Nothing so refreshing as a good swim.”