The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia

by Raven McAllan

  However, never with an innocent, and none of his liaisons had ever involved the heart. Harry had respected and liked his women, but no more than that.

  Lydia, however, was a different matter. Somehow his wayward and hard heart accepted she mattered in a much more visceral way than anyone else ever had. His resolve strengthened; he needed to discover more about his companion. Harry asked the question he’d been trying, in a roundabout way, to lead up to ever since they had chanced upon each other earlier. ‘Er, where is your father this evening?’ He couldn’t tell her why, of course. Jeremy was his problem at the moment, and not just with regards to his insistence he was going to marry the lady in front of him. A message from Pugh as he was about to leave home indicated Jeremy had approached several people with regards to a business deal. No details as yet, but the Earl’s name had been mentioned as someone who had sent Jeremy away with a flea in his ear. It bore further investigation.

  ‘Papa?’ She looked surprised. ‘At Lord Revelhampton’s card party. Uncle Revel and he have a longstanding engagement for the third Thursday of each month when in town. They take it turn about to choose what game they will play.’

  ‘Uncle Revel?’

  ‘Oh.’ She looked flustered. ‘He is my godfather and an honorary uncle. My papa and he were at Eton together and he has always been part of my life. As neither mama nor papa had brothers, Uncle Revel declared he would be my uncle.’

  It all sounded a bit smoky to Harry. Denzel Revelhampton was not someone renowned for extravagant gestures and this struck Harry as very definitely coming within that category. Didn’t uncles pay for things and so on? Revelhampton was plump in the pockets and never showed any inclination to thin them.

  ‘Very magnanimous of him,’ he said mendaciously. ‘Not at all like the Revelhampton we have seen in the ton.’

  He could have cut his tongue out as she glared at him. This was one time where he was certain she did draw on her experience of etiquette and good behaviour.

  ‘Are you always so cynical, my lord?’ Miss Icicle was back with a vengeance. Something he hadn’t experienced before himself, although others had remarked on it.

  Well, he knew the answer to that. ‘Always, my dear. It is, I fear, de rigueur, for one such as I.’ Now, damn it, he sounded like he had a plum in his mouth.

  ‘Then I feel very sorry for you,’ Lydia said with that spark of animation he thought she strove to hide from the world. ‘Such a terrible affliction, cynicism.’

  Harry spread his hands out wide. ‘In that case, perhaps you can work to improve me, my dear. Cure me.’ He went for an innocent expression, but from the way Lydia narrowed her eyes, wasn’t sure he’d achieved it. He decided she had good reason to be suspicious of his motives; he would in her position.

  ‘Why would I want to?’ Lydia sipped her wine and regarded him over the rim of her glass. Her long, dark-gold lashes were a deeper hue than her hair, a perfect foil for her blue eyes. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s state of mind. I’m happy as I am.’

  She might be, but he certainly was not. His staff was hard to the point of no return and his nerves on edge. What did this woman do to him? ‘I hazard a guess you could be happier.’ With me, he hoped was inferred but not spoken.

  ‘Yes, you are correct.’ She sighed. ‘So much happier. One day, and not too far in the future if all goes well.’

  Harry wondered what her papa thought of it all. Maybe he could shed some light on Jeremy’s need to marry Lydia as well as Jeremy’s proposition.

  ‘And what is about to happen in the near future?’ If she said she was to wed, he really would be worried.

  ‘Why, to move to my cottage in the country, which I can do when I am six-and-twenty,’ Lydia said.

  What? The sense of relief he felt was palpable. That was what she’d been hinting about all along? She intended to leave the ton.

  Over my dead body. He hadn’t thought it to be so permanent. He let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. If it were not so scary, he would laugh. The woman had him tied up in knots and with a tendency to let his brain move south when they were together.

  ‘And when, my dear, is that?’ he asked in a voice he hardly recognised. Surely he didn’t discern hurt in there? He’d never show his emotions so openly, and he wasn’t hurt, was he? Just baffled at how she came to her conclusions.

  She blinked but answered immediately. ‘Ah, two weeks and two days. Do you want the hours as well?’

  Did he what? ‘No, thank you. I think I understand. I have two weeks, etcetera, etcetera, to change your mind. You need more than a bucolic life; you need me.’ Surely she could see that?

  ‘How?’ Lydia stared at him as if he’d suggested she dance naked in one of the gentlemen’s clubs and shook her head. He opened his mouth to speak, and she forestalled him. ‘My Lord, you are deluded. You may think I do, but I do not. It might not seem so, but I would never do anything to upset my parents, or scandalise the ton. I suspect spending too much time with you might…’

  ‘Not upset them?’ He grinned and tilted his head.

  She paled on realising what she had said.

  ‘Shall we wager on it?’

  ‘I refuse to wager on anything so insulting,’ she said frostily. ‘Now, perhaps you will excuse me. I’m sure my mama will be looking for me so we can leave.’

  Harry considered her long enough, for he hoped to make Lydia feel uneasy and fight the urge to fidget. Then he grinned and knew damned well his expression was devilish, daring and full of challenge. With luck it would unnerve her and put her on her mettle. Harry decided there and then he wanted her to come to him willingly and let her discover how they meshed. It was imperative he understood everything he could about the lady in front of him.

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Lydia snapped, bringing him out of his reverie. ‘What do you want of me?’ The last was almost a wail.

  ‘I thought you realised, my dear.’ He lowered his voice to an intimate purr. ‘I want a willing body in my bed. You, Lydia, I want to take you, show you what ecstasy is.’ Where the hell had that come from? He had intended to lead up to that slowly with some gentle lovemaking first. He was not usually so crass. Harry blinked and opened his mouth to say something – anything.

  Her wine glass hit the carpet with a thump and France’s finest added a large swathe of red to the golds and blues of the weave.

  Chapter Six

  Lydia pressed her ears and shook her head. She knew that cheese she had eaten with supper tasted rancid. Why else would she be imagining this scenario? Next time she would trust her judgement and feed the cat, if there was one. Or the pigeons. Or, she thought with malicious satisfaction, give it to one of those chinless wonders who annoyed her so. That would give her plenty of scope.

  ‘Why on earth are you looking in my direction?’ she asked, genuinely perplexed. ‘You have me confused. I’m an innocent, my lord. I might be almost on the shelf, but never has anyone suggested I might want to be their…’ How on earth should she describe it? ‘Partner in any way,’ she finished lamely. ‘When have I ever shown you that I would be? Actually…’ She paused to decide how best to continue. ‘I would be no good as a well, you know, for anyone, es… especially one as you.’ She stuttered and reddened. ‘The idea is preposterous. I wish to be no man’s….’

  Harry looked astounded and then roared with laughter. ‘One as me? Pray elucidate how I need to be singled out.’

  Damn him. Why hadn’t he headed off in high dudgeon? Surely that would be the response of a gentleman, not these howls of glee. Now she had to find a way to respond and not cause offence. After all, to be escorted by him had put her parents in a good mood and made her the envy of many. Lydia cleared her throat. This might be her only chance to persuade him to leave her alone. ‘My lord, please believe me, that I am in earnest. I’m not the sort of lady for a rake. Apart from any other reasons, I abhor large gatherings, they scare me.’ How on earth did she portray scar
ed? She honestly had no idea.

  He raised one eyebrow. ‘What have large gatherings got to do with it? But I would be with you, so there would be no need to be scared. That is therefore not to be considered. Anything else, or have we disposed of your worries so that we can proceed with our courtship? It seems so to me.’

  And if he thought she’d believe that, she had a diamond mine in Africa for sale.

  ‘Courtship?’

  He shrugged. ‘Whatever you choose to call it.’

  ‘Pursuit? Persecut… Very well, I accept it is not that. Let me see, and show you why else we would not suit. You like town, I do not. You like socialising, I do not. You like women, I…’ She broke off at his shout of laughter and reddened. Horrible man. I hope he gets nibbled to death by ducks. Or maimed by an outraged husband.

  ‘I hope you do not,’ he spluttered. ‘At least not in the way I do.’

  Lydia regarded him frostily and, after a quick glance around to ensure no one was paying them particular attention, gave in to impulse, pretended to stumble, and ensured her elbow hit a rather delicate part of his anatomy. Hard.

  He let out a startled yelp, then doubled over, heaved, and huffed. His skin was ashen. Oh lord, had she gone too far? Well, Lydia thought unrepentantly, he deserved it; he hadn’t listened to a word she had said.

  I do not want to be bedded like that. I do not. Why did her words sound hollow to her?

  ‘Good lord, woman,’ Harry wheezed. ‘Are you trying to ensure bloody Jeremy is the next earl?’ He let out his breath in one long whoosh and stared at her through glazed eyes.

  Oh, glory be. Help! What have I done? Well, he deserved it. Somehow she didn’t think he would agree.

  ‘I rather liked my staff the way it was. It might not have been used a lot lately, but it did live in hope.’ He stood up gingerly and shook himself with excess care. ‘I’m not sure what it does now, to be honest.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness me.’ Lydia knew heat rushed to her skin. Jeremy again? The mention of that name made her shudder. ‘That was almost uncalled for,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘Almost?’ He looked incredulous. ‘Only almost?’

  ‘Definitely only almost.’ Damn, she heard the snap in her voice. How did he manage to make her respond as her true self, every time? ‘You were being very provoking. However, I’m so sorry to inflict such an injury,’ she continued, heartfelt. ‘I have no idea how I could behave so.’

  ‘With justification,’ Harry said hoarsely. ‘I was indeed being provoking.’ He swallowed. ‘I think all is in its proper place. Would you like to check or try it out?’

  Lydia swayed. Did he mean what she thought? How did a properly brought up young lady answer such an audacious statement, especially to a rake? Even if he had made his rakish intentions known.

  ‘Thank you – it doesn’t interest me.’ Her heart beat at double speed as she spoke and she swore her body tightened. Infuriating man! She might have read things, but she was not sure she wanted to understand more. ‘Er, perhaps we best move? Return to the house?’ Then surely she could leave him and compose herself?

  ‘Not when I’m in this state,’ Harry retorted. ‘Move, yes. To where others might wonder why I have no colour, no breath, and am walking like I’ve ridden an elephant without a saddle for a month non-stop, no. A definite no. Head towards the far end of the lawn and do not, for the love of God, make eye contact with anyone. Hopefully that will suffice.’

  She harrumphed but gave him a slight nod and took his arm once more. ‘You are without doubt, my lord, the most annoying, irritating individual I have ever met. I can only be thankful that soon I will have no need to be polite.’

  ****

  ‘How do you mean? When we meet? Why not?’ The woman both interested him and infuriated him in equal measure. Harry was pleased to hear his voice was almost back to normal. Hopefully it meant he wouldn’t be singing like a castrato in the future. ‘Surely you wouldn’t risk the wrath of the ton and your mama by ill-advised actions?’

  She looked at him as if he had two heads. ‘No,’ she said in a patient voice. ‘I will not be here, remember? It was decided that, at six-and-twenty, I could be in charge of my own destiny. Therefore, as soon as I reach my birthday, I will no longer need to pander to the pettiness of the ton, remember?’

  So that statement from her earlier was true? It would make his pursuit all the harder. Wooing, he reminded himself uneasily, not pursuit; sugarcoat it a little, even though not so long ago he would never have considered that necessary. Lord, his life was turning on its head and he was letting it.

  ‘I remember you chose to think that,’ he said blandly.

  ‘Argh… you are the most infuriating person I have ever had the misfortune to have to deal with. Watch my lips.’

  ‘Certainly.’ His own lips twitched as he turned and stared at her rosy mouth.

  She let out a tiny scream. ‘Not like that.’

  ‘Then how?’ he asked innocently, enjoying the banter.

  ‘Oh, forget it,’ Lydia said impatiently. ‘Just remember that, after my birthday, I will no longer take part in any tonnish activities. I’ll be away from here and it.’ Her tone was definite with no hint of wavering.

  That would not happen if he had any say in the matter. Harry wondered what or who had set her so against the ton and its members. Oh, lots of them, especially the young debs, were silly, and the old ladies sticklers for etiquette, but surely not to the extent that Lydia seemed to have a hatred for it. Was the prevailing view of her as boring and bland perhaps a protection against being hurt? A screen she had set up for that purpose?

  Whatever the reason, he was not letting her go. Harry didn’t want to try to fathom out why he was so adamant about not risking the possibility of any country squire stealing a march on him. It had nothing to do with foiling Jeremy, apart from the fact that he needed to know why that young man was so adamant about marrying Lydia. To foil others might not be so easy. Harry needed to set his own plans in motion. ‘Shall we walk for a few moments longer before we go back in?’

  Lydia looked startled for a moment then inclined her head. ‘That would be very agreeable, my lord. The night-scented flowers are so heavenly.’

  Lord help me. Do I have to spend the next few minutes listening to her warble on about flowers?

  ‘So am I.’ He paused and winked when she looked up at him in puzzlement. ‘Agreeable.’

  ‘Ha, when it suits you,’ she said caustically and then shook her head and sighed. ‘I’m sorry, my lord. Again I am rude, and I need to learn to curb my tongue. I think I better go back to my mama.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Harry steered her away from the house and down the four shallow steps to the gravel path between the flowerbeds where several other couples were strolling and chatting. He wanted to know more. ‘I’m beginning to think there are so many hidden facets of you I wish to discover.’

  Her sharp intake of breath was most gratifying. ‘There are none and if there were I would not want to share them.’ The voice was once more that of a shy, effacing female, and it intrigued him.

  ‘That,’ she said quietly, ‘would be so embarrassing.’

  He risked a glance at her and almost fell over. She did not look like the vacuous person she usually attempted to act, anything but. The suspicion that she was conning people, that the faded persona she presented to the world was a façade she projected to protect the real her from ridicule, grew ever more large in Harry’s mind. And strengthened his resolve. If things did get that far, a liaison with her would be a joy. But what if he was wrong? He’d cope, of course, if that were how things panned out, but surely they wouldn’t?

  The thought that they might depressed him, and confused him even more. Lord, he was confused. He didn’t have to have her, just keep her occupied until he sorted the Jeremy affair out.

  And if I think that, I’m fooling myself, and I know of a bridge I can buy.

  His next glance saw someone totally different from the time before
and his head hurt. Harry wondered if he was going crazy.

  ‘Why do you think people really enjoy this sort of thing?’ Lydia waved her hand languidly. ‘My mama says I could get used to it, but oh no, never.’ She shuddered. ‘I want to be by myself.’

  Not a small thing then.

  ‘Never to marry and have children?’ Harry said in a puzzled voice. ‘I thought that was what most women yearned for.’ Then they had done their duty and could begin to enjoy their lives, or so he had frequently been told. Once more he had the disquieting thought that he wouldn’t want his wife to behave like that.

  Double standards, he mused uneasily. Was that what love did to you? Thank God, I am not in love. Attraction is not love. Love is fickle; attraction is fleeting and honest.

  Lydia opened her eyes wide. ‘Oh no, not that… That is a worrying thought. I prefer to be alone. If I had children a man would of necessity be a part of it. And I refuse to be a useful brood mare.’ She fiddled with her reticule. ‘I do think I should go in and find my mama now. People will talk.’

  ‘You would prefer to be bedded outside marriage?’ he asked in his best rakish manner. ‘I can help you there.’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she said quickly. Not frostily, as he had imagined. No elbow in his groin or reticule in his eye. Just a rapid disclaimer, a blush and a swift glance to his cock outlined under his breeches.

  Was he deluding himself about her interest? Was he attracted to her because she was doing her best to thwart him? He had no idea, but was determined to find out. Harry turned to the woman next to him. ‘I really do think we should get to know each other, my dear. Consider it. After all, Jeremy would not do for you.’

  ‘Why do you keep harping on about Jeremy?’ she asked testily. ‘Jeremy might be your heir, but he is an annoying, immature young man, whom I will be happy never to have to clap eyes on again. Melissa Daubney said he was one for mooning over her and made her feel somewhat ill. It didn’t last when her brother told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone.’