A Lover for Lydia (The Wednesday Club Book 4)

by Sahara Kelly

  “How did Miss Prudence like it? I know you took her and the Maidenbrookes out on the water.” It was a casual question.

  The time it took for Sir Ronan to reply surprised Mowbray.

  “She took to it like a duck to water,” he said, his voice level. “Wanted to learn everything, try everything. I swear she’d have climbed the mast if I’d let her.”

  There was something in his voice that caught Mowbray’s attention. “She’ll make a good sailor, then,” he commented.

  “The best,” answered Ronan briefly.

  A gust of wind raised a wave or two and the yacht bounced happily, keeping Mowbray silent as he gripped the gunwale.

  “She’s a lovely young woman.”

  Ronan glanced at him. “As is Miss Davenport.”

  Mowbray nodded and shrugged. “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

  “It had to happen sometime. At least you’ve got a lot in common with Miss Lydia. And she’s bright as a sunrise, I’m thinking. You need that, being an intelligent lad yourself.”

  He had to smile at the soft brogue. “You’re right. She is indeed all that and more.” He rolled his neck, stretching, breathing in the cool freshness of the ocean. “But out of my league.”

  “Never say so, Mowbray. No woman is out of a man’s league if she’s interested in him.”

  That brought Mowbray’s head around sharply, the bones that he’d stretched cracked with the speed of his movement. “You think…do you…” He growled. “This is such a ridiculous conversation.”

  “‘Tis not. You’ve a fancy for a lady. I’m telling you, as a friend, I believe she’s a fancy for you in return. Now what you do about it is up to you. I’m just saying my piece.”

  “Ah.” Mowbray thought about that. “Well. Er…thank you. I think.” He spent a few moments digesting the unusual comments. “So if I might be allowed to return the favour?”

  Ronan looked at him, eyebrow raised quizzically.

  “I’m damn sure Miss Prudence has more than a passing interest in you.”

  The tiller slipped a little, and Ronan cursed musically as he grabbed it and set the yacht back on course.

  “Ah, well then. ‘Tis a pair of confused men we are, lad. Women’ll do that to you every time.”

  Finding nothing to disagree with in that statement, Mowbray sighed, turned his head into the wind, and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of their little voyage.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I have to say it seems a bit emptier without Judith and Ragnor,” said Rose, strolling on the terrace in the morning. “But I think they did the right thing.”

  “Me too,” endorsed Ivy. “I miss them, but she was getting quite tired all the time, which worried me a little.”

  “She’s…four months or so along now?” Lydia glanced at her friends. “Most women think about retiring soon, so going to Withersby might not be a bad notion.”

  Ivy snorted. “So absurd. Hiding away as if ashamed of our condition. Having a baby is a joyous thing. Why on earth should we withdraw from Society?”

  “Because we can admit we’re sick of it?” Rose let out a tiny giggle. “Let’s be honest, my friends. There’s more wrong with the Society we currently live in, than there is right about it. I’m thinking Judith is going to have a lovely time over the next few months if she stays in the country. She’ll be cosseted and pampered to bits.”

  “Well, yes, that’s true. Ragnor will wait on her hand and foot.” Lydia touched a tall lily, bending over to sniff the fragrance. “And I’m sure Colly and Miles will do the same thing when the time comes.”

  Rose and Ivy looked at one another.

  “Dear Lydia,” smiled Rose. “Come. Sit.”

  Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Oh no. What did I do now?”

  Ivy laughed. “Nothing as far as we know, love. But something is going on with you and we want to help.”

  “And find out what really happened between you and Mowbray yesterday.”

  Taking one of the wrought-iron chairs that circled a pretty stone table, Lydia casually arranged her skirts. “What on earth makes you think something happened?”

  “That. That right there.” Rose sat as well, pointing at Lydia’s face. “You have that look about you.”

  “She’s right, Lydia. You’ve been pensive and given to staring at the ocean.”

  “I like the ocean. I don’t see it often in London.”

  “We like the ocean too, but we don’t stare out the window when it’s foggy and you can’t even see the ocean. Plus you sigh.” Rose nodded emphatically. “You’re not a sighing sort of person. Explain that.”

  Closing her eyes, Lydia fought for composure, wondering what to tell these two wonderful women who were, along with Judith and Prudence, her best and truest friends.

  She opened her eyes and looked at them. “He kissed me.”

  Rose blinked and Ivy’s jaw dropped.

  “Mowbray? Mowbray kissed you?” Rose recovered first.

  “No, the bootboy.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course Mowbray. Right before he fell into the puddle.”

  “Well that explains it,” grinned Ivy. “So…is he a…” she cleared her throat. “Is he a good kisser?”

  Lydia swallowed. “He is. Stars appeared at midday, the world rocked beneath my feet and I think my heart stopped beating for a second or two.” She took a breath, folded her arms on the table, and laid her head down on them. “I’m doomed.”

  “Was there some tongue involved?”

  “Good God, Ivy,” choked Rose. “What a question.”

  “Why?” Ivy raised her eyebrows. “I’m just asking. In the interests of learning everything so we can help Lydia recover from this obviously shattering experience.”

  “All right, all right.” Lydia raised her head. “To keep matters simple, yes Mowbray kissed me yesterday and I would venture to say it was a mutually pleasant moment.” She repressed the shiver of exquisite arousal at the memory of his body pressed to hers. “In fact, later on in the day I told him I would quite enjoy repeating the experience.”

  That brought a few seconds of stunned silence from both Ivy and Rose.

  “You told him?” Ivy’s eyes were wide.

  “Well yes, of course.” In control of herself now, Lydia folded her hands on the table and looked at her friends in amusement. “How am I going to see if the second time is as good or better than the first if I don’t try him out?”

  “You really are an inspiration,” Rose shook her head. “I am quite in awe.”

  “As a matter of fact,” continued Lydia, happily pursing the topic. “I think I might decide to take him as a lover. You know that was my goal for this summer…”

  Once more silence fell as two shocked faces stared across the small table at her.

  “Wait. Mowbray? Our Mowbray?”

  “You are talking about Mowbray Linfield, my brother-in-law, are you not?”

  Lydia laughed. “Now you’re being silly. Yes, that’s who I’m talking about. As I already said, I had a goal this summer. And now I think I’ve discovered the perfect person to help me fulfil it.”

  “Are you…” Rose cleared her throat. “Are you going to ask him?”

  “Hmm. I might. If the time is right.”

  “But…but…” Ivy clearly struggled.

  “Just take a few moments and consider the notion.” Lydia leaned forward. “I need someone discreet, obviously. I need someone who isn’t going to sprout that magnificent display of male pride and demand we marry immediately. And I need someone who I believe is probably rather good at it, in spite of what you might think.”

  Rose choked. “Lydia…” She started to laugh.

  “What?” Lydia asked politely.

  “But…Mowbray,” grinned Ivy. “He’d probably fall out of bed…”

  Those words were sufficient to set them all howling with laughter, even when Woodleigh made his stately way across the flagstones to tell them lunch was ready.

  The giggles and sn
ickers kept up for the time it took them all to re-enter Maiden Shore, but fortunately by the time they sat down for lunch, they’d collected themselves enough to behave in a civil fashion.

  The gentlemen were away, visiting a neighbour who had promised Colly some fine fishing, so it was only the ladies who availed themselves of a tasty meal. Prudence had joined them after a stroll along the beach with her maid.

  “The sea looked so blue today. Just beautiful. I want to swim,” she declared, sitting down and reaching for a freshly baked bread roll.

  “I know, for I have the same yearnings,” agreed Lydia. “It’s been mentioned a time or two.”

  Ivy looked quizzical. “Um…I’m not sure how we would manage that. And I have no clue if there’s a bathing machine here at Maiden Shore.”

  Prudence pursed her lips. “Dreadful things. I tried one once. It smelled horrid, the floorboards were rough and I bruised an elbow changing out of my gown. Besides, I don’t want to wear a stupid bathing dress either. They’re ugly.”

  “There aren’t a lot of other options, dear,” observed Rose kindly. “And going without clothes? Pretty much impossible, I’d say.”

  Prudence smiled a smile that made Lydia sit up and pay attention. “You have an idea.”

  “I do.” The young woman briefly lifted her napkin to her lips. “What if we don’t swim from this beach here at Maiden Shore, but sail a little way further down the coast where I’m told there’s a place that’s only accessible from the water. That way we have all the privacy we want and we don’t need any kind of bathing costume.”

  Rose gasped, Ivy stared at Prudence as if she’d grown another head, and Lydia narrowed her eyes. “Who would take us?”

  “It would have to be Ronan, I suppose, unless we can find a lady yachtsman, which I will admit is unlikely.”

  “And then what? We blindfold him? Put his eyes out?” Ivy frowned. “Prancing around without our clothes in the water is one thing. Doing it in front of a man is another. Colly would have a fit.”

  “And Miles would flat out refuse to let it happen,” added Rose. “More’s the pity.”

  “Hmm,” said Prudence, “what if we asked them all to sail with us? When we reach the beach, they turn around and go away, to come back at a certain time?”

  Silence greeted this proposition.

  “Let me think about it,” said Ivy.

  “I’m interested enough to approve that, if we could talk them around to it.” Rose smiled. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be able to be naked in the ocean.”

  “You have?” Ivy blinked. “Now you’ve got me wondering as well…”

  “I think it would be wonderful,” said Lydia softly. “All that water on our bare skin…very sensual.”

  “And probably very cold,” replied the ever-practical Ivy. “I’m not sure how sensual goosepimples are, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to find out.”

  “Very good then,” agreed Rose. “If we can find the right moment, let’s bring it up and see what the gentlemen think of the idea.”

  “Excellent.” Prudence bounced in her seat. “I knew this was going to be a wonderful summer.”

  Lydia swallowed. Naked swimming, bare backsides, a kiss that had given her all the sparkles she had desired and more…yes, this was indeed turning out to be a wonderful summer.

  *~~*~~*

  No more was said on the matter that day, since the Stauntons’ impromptu romp, as Miles referred to it, was scheduled for that evening.

  The weather was obliging, with a day that warmed up very nicely and promised a lovely evening to allow everyone outside. Thus the conversation of gowns took over a lot of the afternoon and continued into the early evening during the preparations.

  “The blue,” said Lydia.

  “I like the green one myself.”

  “You’re a redhead, Ivy. You look lovely in anything green. I look like a faded daisy next to you.” Lydia shook her head.

  Ivy sighed. “Nonsense. But I am wearing green, so if you choose the blue at least we won’t be accused of copying each other.”

  “Very true. Now go away so I can soak in this delightful bath.” She gestured to the tub placed by the window where warm sun streamed in.

  Ivy smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. Downstairs at seven o’clock for the drive over?”

  “We could walk…”

  “We could, but we won’t. We are the Maiden Shore party. We have to arrive in style.” Ivy raised her nose in the air, making Lydia laugh.

  She left the room with a quick smile and once the door closed, Lydia took a breath, glad to have a moment or two alone. Her gown lay ready on the bed, a cloud of blue with white lace flowers ringing the neckline and the short puffed sleeves. Cleverly embroidered leaves of varying shades of green peeped from beneath the flowers, and tiny little sparkles flashed like fireflies from glass beads intermixed amongst the trim.

  Lydia loved it for its simplicity, elegance and charm, and she’d not worn it before, even though it had languished in her London cupboard for almost an entire Season. Perhaps she’d been waiting for this particular night.

  She shed her robe and stepped into the bath, sighing with pleasure at the warm scented water and sunshine as they mixed on her body. She bathed, preferring to do so alone, rather than with a maid washing her back. Just another personal bit of independence she’d established in Davenport House and saw no need to change here, even though the Maiden Shore servants were more than ready to assist and she’d use them as needed.

  A sea bird cried out somewhere, a sharp throaty call. She looked out, but couldn’t see it from her current vantage point. She would need the telescope to properly survey the area.

  Thoughts of the telescope brought back memories of that naughty night when they’d spied on the men of their party.

  And that thought led to an instant and unforgettable image of a wonderfully taut male backside and muscular body.

  Mowbray.

  Why on earth it should be Mowbray, Lydia had no clue. She sat back in the water and idly twitched her toes, watching the ripples form and dissipate. What was it about him that exerted this powerful attraction on her?

  She’d known him for what felt like years. They both attended the Wednesday Club; she’d visited the Linfield pied-à-terre on Audley Street in London and danced with him several times over the course of the past Season.

  Which directed her memory to the sudden shock she remembered when she first saw him on the dance floor. He might be clumsy in everyday life, but when he took a woman in his arms to dance, he was fluid and stunningly talented.

  She couldn’t help but wonder if he would bring that same talent with him when bedding a woman.

  Being a forward-thinking young lady, Lydia had already familiarised herself with the act of love. She’d bought—and shared—a copy of the scandalous novel Cytherean Tales, written by a lady who clearly felt women should be informed about such things. The shocking details within the slender volume had been pored over by untold numbers of curious females.

  So she knew what lovemaking entailed. But not how it felt, or why it put a certain look on people’s faces when it was right.

  She could see that look on Judith, on Rose, and definitely on Ivy. What was it that made their skin glow, their eyes light up when they looked at their men…what gave them that certain something that exerted a gravitational pull toward their lover?

  Lydia let her thoughts roam as she lay back in the bath, surrounded by the scent of jasmine from the soap, one of her favourites.

  Eyes closed, she luxuriated in the vision of Mowbray leaning over and perhaps kissing her. Or touching her. Or lifting her completely out of the tub and striding with her in his arms to the nearby bed, where he would…what?

  Clenching her teeth and opening her eyes, Lydia found herself more and more determined to answer that question. Maybe even tonight, if the stars were in her favour. Could she talk Mowbray into her bed?

  A good que
stion. She could certainly talk anybody into almost anything if she put her mind to it, but Mowbray wasn’t anybody and sex wasn’t just anything.

  But if his kiss was any kind of guide, he would be willing. Of course, willing didn’t mean doing, but still…

  A brief chill flittered over her skin, and she realised her toes were puckering. Time to get out of the bath and dress for the night to come.

  She reached for the warm linen towels which had been toasting in the sunshine by the window and sighed with delight as she wrapped herself in one and stepped from the tub. Walking to the bed, she nodded again at the gown. Then frowned at the simple cotton chemise her maid had laid out. It was appropriate, but not what she wanted.

  Going to the cupboard, and holding the towel around her with one hand, she reached inside toward the back and felt what she was looking for. A pale blue chemise made of the finest silk. Not transparent, but light enough to hint at the appearance of it. It had cost quite a bit, but Lydia had fallen in love with it at first touch.

  Tonight was the night to give it an outing, and beneath the blue gown it would provide a sleek and feminine foundation that only she would know was there.

  Unless…unless…

  Blushing at the thought, Lydia dried herself and then slid into the chemise. A shiver of sensual excitement rocked her as it caressed her skin and she gasped at the sensation of her nipples tightening, clenching her thighs against an ache low in her belly.

  Tonight might be a unique adventure, to say the least.

  Chapter Twelve

  Two carriages ferried the Maiden Shore party to the Stauntons that evening, and they arrived to see the entire area beginning to light up with lanterns and candles as the sun set and dusk crept slowly over the sky.

  Food had been prepared; a sumptuous feast of local specialties, and everyone was welcomed by an enthusiastic Lady Susan and her hugs.

  “Darlings,” she gushed. “I am so glad you’re here. Come, let me hug you.”

  Which she did, with gusto.

  Mowbray managed to survive the experience, but it was a near thing. Lady Susan was joyously overwhelming, her hands grabbed him in unexpected places, and he clearly detected the odour of brandy as she burrowed into him.