Lydia sat back in her seat and prepared to be bored. The Countess leaned forward and her eyes sparkled as she arranged her skirts to her satisfaction.
‘Is that Lord Mackieson over there?’ she asked. ‘With Miss Johnson. Lord, her dress does not show her in a favourable light. Whoever told her that shade of puce was becoming to her?’
‘Puce isn’t becoming to anyone.’ Lydia decided she best add a comment while she could and thus make her mama think she was really listening, rather than catching the odd phrase or two. With regards to the horrendous colour of puce, she could reply emphatically. It really was not a flattering hue.
‘Oh, and Lady Dearborne is with Lady Linton under the trees,’ her mama continued. Lydia nodded and hoped it was the correct response.
‘I had thought they were no longer speaking after Lord Dearborne was purported to have spent no less than a half of one hour talking to Louisa Linton. That woman is a veritable man eater. I can tell you Jane Dearborne was not best pleased. Oh, and look, there’s…’ Lydia gave in to temptation and let her mother’s voice wash over her. She knew her mama didn’t really expect an answer. To her it was all exciting and part of her daily routine. To Lydia it was dull and a trial. Who cared what Lady D thought and said to Lady L? Who was interested in how Lord Whoever approached Lady Someone Else? As for Lady D and Lady L, they were as bad as each other. Everyone knew they both bed-hopped as they pleased and their husbands chose to turn a blind eye. Probably because they were doing the same thing themselves. It would never do for Lydia. Nevertheless, she continued to nod every so often to appease her mama.
‘So you think so?’
‘Ah…’ What had she agreed to? ‘I’m sorry, but?’ She smiled wryly, and the Countess sighed.
‘You don’t mean it, do you? In fact, I would hazard a guess you didn’t even hear what I said.’
Lydia shrugged. ‘I apologise, Mama. I must be such a trial to you, but really I would rather darn stockings than be here, and we both know how bad I am at that.’
‘No, not a trial, just so difficult for me to understand,’ her mama said slowly. ‘I love you dearly, child, but I admit I’m at a loss, I really am. How can anyone not enjoy being here at the heart of everything during the season?’
Lydia smiled and patted her parent’s hand, touched more than she could have imagined by her mama’s confession. She had always felt an oddity her parents couldn’t cope with. To hear her mama say she loved her daughter was something special. ‘I must be the exception to the rule. I love you too, Mama, but I can only be myself for all I wish I could be what you want.’ She sighed. ‘Ah well, soon you won’t need to worry over me. Less than three weeks and I’ll be my own responsibility in Devon.’ She intended to reiterate that fact at every opportunity she got.
Her mother opened her mouth but happily Lydia was able to forestall her, as another carriage drew up and her closest friend, Esther Cranswick, waved from it. Dressed in the highest fashion on a shade of blue that suited her, Esther was everything the Countess wished her daughter to be.
‘Lyddie, shall we walk?’ Esther asked after acknowledging the Countess. ‘It is such nice weather for a stroll.’
A reprieve. Lydia turned to her mama. ‘May I?’
The Countess acquiesced. After all, Esther had married well, and Lydia knew her mama hoped Esther would introduce her to someone who, in the Countess’s words, Lydia would allow into her world. As long as it was someone of whom the Countess approved.
Like Lord Birnham? Argh, get him out of my head. He would never find the real me attractive.
Their coachman helped Lydia descend from the barouche, and within minutes she and Esther were arm in arm and walking sedately down the prescribed pathway for young ladies.
‘So,’ Esther asked as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘How is everything progressing, and what’s this I hear about Lord Birnham escorting you for a turn on the terrace at Lady Raith’s? Trust it to be on the one night I wasn’t there. I thought he had helped earlier? Tell me all.’
Lydia squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘Truly, there is very little to tell. He did the pretty after that horrible Norbert Donkin almost knocked me to the ground when Donkin was so bosky, he didn’t even see me. Lord Birnham came to my aid. He was sober, of course. Lord Birnham, I mean,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘Or at least if he wasn’t he hid it well. Then at Lady Raith’s I turned my ankle after I stepped awkwardly on the lintel. Lord Birnham saw me limping and noted I looked a little pale. He insisted to Lady Raith that she tell me to let him escort me for a turn on the terrace. Said it would do me good. I had no option but to agree or cause a scene. I might annoy my mama a lot, but not intentionally, so we walked from one end to the other and then he very properly left me.’
‘Hmm.’
Esther sounded sceptical, which, Lydia mused, wasn’t surprising. Sometimes the truth did sound strange and far-fetched.
‘What does your mama say about that?’
Lydia shrugged, not as insouciant as she portrayed. ‘Not a lot yet, but I am not holding my breath she’ll stay silent. You know Mama. She still can’t accept I prefer spinsterhood and the country life to marriage and the giddy whirl of tonnish life.’
‘Do you really?’ Esther asked her, shrewdly. ‘You honestly do not want to marry and have children? To be loved and love back, like I have.’ She favoured Lydia with a piercing stare. ‘You are good with children – I swear you would be a perfect wife and mother.’
They skirted two other young ladies coming towards them, passed pleasantries and walked on. Lydia composed a reply that wouldn’t show how she was torn.
‘How many marriages do you know like yours?’ Lydia asked, as she supressed a pang of envy for her friend’s marriage. ‘You and Edward are the exception. Most of our peers are wed for convenience not love, and once the heir is sorted go their own ways. I could not and would not countenance any such thing. I’d rather be single.’ It was impossible to put into words how she had seen her mama wither and resort to entertainments outside the home.
‘Well, I know I’m indeed fortunate,’ Esther said quietly. ‘But who is to say you wouldn’t be so as well?’
Lydia shrugged. ‘As I actively repel suitors, it is not likely. After all, I’m almost on the shelf, an old maid, an ape leader, call it what you will; it’s hardly likely now, is it?’ She ignored the thought that Lord Birnham had spent that little time with her, and not appeared repelled, or that she hadn’t disliked his attention. It was a once in a lifetime attention from him, she realised that. ‘I could never countenance anything where I was a convenience. No, I’ll retire to Devon and be happy.’ Or as happy as possible. Why, when her goal was so close, was the thought of a single life not as appealing as it had been before? ‘Now let’s change the subject,’ she said hastily, blocking her wayward thoughts. ‘Have you decided what you want to do with the decorations in your sitting room yet? Did you commission those chairs you liked?’
As she hoped, Esther, after one understanding and loving glance at her, picked up the new thread and chatted about her colour schemes and the chairs she desired and which Edward insisted were as comfortable as sitting on a nail. ‘And I swear they are not,’ she said indignantly and then coloured as Lydia stared at her sceptically. ‘Not really. Oh, look…’ Esther changed the subject as she tugged them both to a halt. ‘There’s Edward over there and well, well, look who’s with him. And they’re coming this way.’
Lydia looked and groaned. ‘Why?’ Did she have a placard over her head saying ‘Here I am. Come and annoy me’?
‘Why what?’ Esther waved as her husband and his companion approached on horseback. ‘Why should they not? Oh, you surely are not worried that Harry Birnham will speak to be civil and only be punctilious, are you, Lyddie? He’s not like that.’
‘All men who have any manners at all – with, yes, all right, the exception of your Edward – are like that,’ Lydia said wryly. ‘And even he can say all that is necessary if need be an
d not realise he is saying it. However, I promise I won’t be rude, and will act the well-brought-up lady I am expected to be.’
Esther harrumphed and looked very sceptical. However, she had no chance to argue before her husband and Lord Birnham were upon them.
Lydia made a split-second assessment of the situation and breathed a sigh of relief. As the men were on horseback, she reasoned there would be little likelihood of more than a brief exchange of words.
She was wrong.
Both men dismounted as they drew up, and as if by magic a groom appeared to take hold of the horses and walk them. Edward nodded his thanks and bent to kiss Lydia’s hand and his wife’s cheek. ‘Well met, ladies. We thought it was you both as we made our way down the row. Harry, you know Esther, of course, and this, I’m sure you realise, is Lady Lydia Field. My wife’s closest friend and confidante.’
Lydia narrowed her eyes. What was Edward playing at? Why was all this information necessary? Then she had another even more disturbing thought. What information had Harry shared? If Esther knew of her previous meeting with Lord Birnham it was a certainty her husband did as well.
‘As you know, Edward,’ Harry drawled, every inch the rake, ‘Lady Lydia and I are acquainted and I knew your wife before you did. As a distant relative, you understand, no more, so do not think to try and plant a facer on me for it. You’d miss anyway. Your guard is suspect.’
Edward laughed. ‘Don’t rub it in.’ He turned to Lydia and Esther, as Harry bowed to them both and kissed both of their hands.
Lydia bit back a moan, as he winked and nipped the soft flesh of her wrist with his teeth. What on earth was he doing?
‘I thought I was fit until just now when this bounder worsted me in Jackson’s salon,’ Edward said plaintively. ‘Show me I’m your hero, my love.’
‘For what? Hitting someone for no reason? Not a chance. Urgh, boxing, nasty thing,’ Esther replied and punched her husband in the ribs. ‘How can fighting someone be called a sport? I cannot understand it, can you, Lydia?’ she appealed to her friend as Edward said laughingly, ‘Well, what was that?’
Esther rolled her eyes. ‘A loving tap.’
Edward snorted. ‘I never want an unloving one, then.’
Lydia smiled at her friend. ‘I suppose they need somewhere to let off steam. After all, this is London with all its petty restraints. No galloping, no hunting, shooting, or fishing. They have to relieve their tension…’ She realised how her comment could be construed. ‘Ah, their frust… oh lord, excess energy.’ She forgot who accompanied them and rolled her eyes. ‘Esther, for goodness’ sake, stop laughing.’
It was no good. As Esther giggled and the men chuckled, Lydia reddened and let her amusement show. ‘Good grief, do not tell my mama about this. She would disown me for sure.’
‘Is that not what you want?’ Esther asked shrewdly. ‘In some form or another.’
‘Maybe, but not like this.’
‘My lady, shall we leave these two reprobates to their own devices and take a turn around the lake?’ Harry, whom Lydia noticed had been listening to the interchange with avid interest, asked smoothly.
It was on the tip of her tongue to query why, when Esther intervened.
‘Let’s all go. That way we are observing protocol and not upsetting the tabbies. After all, as friends of you both and an old, established couple, Edward and I are ideal as chaperones.’
‘My dear Esther. I am old enough not to need one,’ Harry said suavely.
‘You might be, but whatever Lydia thinks, she is not.’ Esther said. ‘Not here. We must observe propriety on her behalf. Lead on.’
Lydia rolled her eyes and resisted the temptation to poke Esther in the side and remind her she could hear every word. ‘I’m here, you know; you don’t have to talk about me in the abstract.’ Sometimes people could be so annoying. For that matter, so could the petty rules and regulations of the ton.
Edward laughed. ‘When my lady wife is in this mood I always do as she says.’
‘You do whatever mood I’m in,’ Esther said cheerfully. ‘I love you.’
‘And I you, my sweetness, but we are shocking Harry.’
‘Not me,’ Harry said with a grin. ‘I’m unshockable. Lady Lydia perhaps?’
Lydia shook her head. ‘Oh no, I’m used to them billing and cooing.’
‘Then let’s leave them to follow us like good little chaperones and they can bill and coo and we will converse like sensible people.’ Harry held out his arm for Lydia.
Why can’t we bill and coo a little? Had she really thought that? Lydia took Harry’s proffered arm, and waited for him to indicate which way around the lake they should walk.
It was inevitable, of course, that they saw so many people they knew who would chat about this spectacle of Harry Birnham with Lydia Field again.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Lydia asked him sotto voce so Edward and Esther wouldn’t overhear. Her soft sandals scuffed a few fallen leaves at the edge of the pathway as they walked, and she wondered what the ton would say if she kicked them up in the air as she’d done as a child in the country. ‘It will cause talk and my mama to crow, as well as raising false hope in her that you will somehow persuade me not to leave in a couple of weeks.’ To stop her even half thinking about causing a scandal, she steered Harry towards the middle of the path. ‘You are a rake, and I am not the type of person a rake consorts with.’
‘You intrigue me,’ Harry said. ‘And believe me, I am interested in you. And I’m hoping with your mama.’
‘Eh?’ Lydia was confused. The man was like a terrier with a rat, but half of the time he’d made her lose the thread of their conversations. She stopped walking and he obediently turned to look at her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I hope I can persuade you not to leave,’ Harry said blandly. ‘This is one way.’
‘But why?’ She was bewildered. ‘There is nothing about me to interest you.’ Unless her persona of biddable had worked so well that he thought she was the sort of person to make a quiet, unassuming, undemanding wife. That thought made her feel sick. She didn’t want to marry at all, did she? And if, if, she ever entertained the idea, that type of partnership would not be it. ‘It is not nice to dally with no intentions of anything,’ Lydia added reproachfully.
He tapped her nose with his forefinger. ‘Oh, I have a lot of intentions,’ he assured her. ‘I just chose not to share them all yet. Now smile, for I see your swain approaching.’
‘My what?’ she asked as Esther and Edward caught up with them. ‘I have no swain, nor do I want one.’
Esther groaned. ‘Harry, if I stay here now, you owe me a favour at some point. I swear your heir is one of the most aggravating and annoying people I know, and I make no apologies for saying so. Why is he such a pathetic, whining man?’
Lydia started. His heir? Jeremy Mumford, the pitiful, long specimen dressed as a dandy, was Harry’s heir? It seemed hardly likely they could be related. They appeared as alike as chalk and cheese.
Hold on, why am I now thinking of him as Harry? However, once that name had fixed in her mind, it was nigh on impossible to revert to formality in her thoughts.
She watched Jeremy as he stood in front of Harry and glowered. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded of his elder. ‘Why are you with her?’
Lydia opened her mouth to tell the newcomer just what she thought of his attitude, but Harry luckily forestalled her.
‘She has a name,’ Harry said quietly. ‘You are making a fool of yourself, you know. Lady Lydia is not your responsibility.’
‘And she’s yours?’ Jeremy asked rudely. ‘I don’t think so.’
Lydia gasped and Esther coughed dramatically. Jeremy ignored them both.
‘Manners.’ Harry narrowed his eyes and Jeremy looked a little discomforted. ‘I know so,’ Harry continued implacably. ‘Now, unless you intend to be polite and greet us like a proper human being, I suggest you leave.’ Harry paused. ‘Now.’
‘
Oh, all right – good afternoon, everyone.’ Jeremy looked at Lydia with a curious expression. Calculating, considering, almost evil; it made her shudder in trepidation. Therefore she ignored him. It was obvious he was not to be encouraged in any way, and his presence cast a cloud over them. Beside her, Harry shook with silent mirth. Lydia wanted to slap him. Jeremy was an annoyance, and Harry was fast joining him.
After a few seconds, Jeremy scowled. ‘I will bid you all a good day.’ He turned on his heels.
‘If looks could kill we would be choosing the hymns for your funeral,’ Edward remarked. ‘You really need to do something about him, Harry. He’s more than an idiot; there is a darker aspect to his make-up that is coming to the fore.’
Harry shrugged and Lydia watched with interest as the two men exchanged what to her seemed like a warning glance.
‘May I be so bold as to say good riddance?’ Esther asked sweetly.
Harry nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘Why me?’ Lydia asked. ‘Why is he fixated on me? He makes my skin crawl. You know, he invites me to dance and stares fixedly at me all the time. And his hands are clammy. At first I thought him harmless, but now?’ She shuddered as she remembered just how he made her feel – as if spiders danced over her skin. ‘He appears everywhere I go. It is unnerving to say the least. Now he’s talking about how, with my money and his acumen, whatever he means by that, we would make the perfect couple. Urgh. No. I tell you, I am having so many headaches or reasons to stay where only ladies go, my mama is at the end of her tether. What is it all about?’
‘I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Now let’s forget about him and talk of pleasanter things.’
‘He cannot be of your ilk, you know,’ Edward remarked, as in mutual, but unspoken, agreement they retraced their steps and approached the Countess’s carriage. ‘Somewhere down the line someone played their partner false.’
Harry laughed. ‘You’ve met my aunt and her mother. Who would have them?’
‘True. Well, you have all of my sympathy.’ Edward said with a wink.
The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia Page 5