Was it a case of absence making the heart grow fonder? He hoped so, because when he’d sent a note the previous afternoon, suggesting a ride that morning, if the storms stayed away, she’d replied in the affirmative with alacrity. To his relief, although the sky was overcast, a hint of warmth gave him hope that it would turn into a perfect, late-spring day.
The door opened and Lydia stood in the hallway, smart and breathtaking in a deep-red riding dress that fitted to perfection and gave her skin a translucent glow. Half boots in a deeper red matched her gloves and the cheeky trio of feathers in her saucy hat. She literally took his breath away. How he kept his wits about him enough to bow and hold out his arm he had no idea.
‘You, my dear, are the perfect view on this dull day,’ he said sincerely as she coloured prettily. ‘You light it up.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I know what I am, Harry; do not overegg the pudding. I, as my papa is wont to say, scrub up nicely when I choose to, but I am not an incomparable and never will be. And I best add I’m thankful for that if it means acting like Seraphina Phillpott or Elizabeth Nembersham. I do not want to be like them.’
‘No,’ he agreed as he was reminded of two of the most tenacious thorns in his side. ‘Thank the lord.’
Her head went up and her eyes sparked with indignation.
‘Well,’ she spluttered, ‘that’s put me in my place, my lord.’
‘You, my love, will never be as idiotic or annoying. You have more to you than that. Substance, depth, and a warm wit and intelligence.’
‘I do? What makes you think that?’ She sounded genuinely amazed. ‘I thought I was very plain and ordinary.’
‘Never plain or ordinary – don’t sell yourself short. I understand the real you, your true worth, as much for the things you don’t do as much as those you do.’ He watched her puzzle over his cryptic comment, and gave her no chance to question him further. ‘Shall we ride? The horses are getting restless.’
Lydia opened her mouth as if to comment again, then shut it and nodded.
Did she really mutter ‘to be continued’ under her breath? Harry rather thought she had, chose to ignore it, and instead waited until his groom held the horses steady. He tossed Lydia up, paused until she put her feet into the stirrups – enabling him to get a brief flash of a tantalising leg – and nodded that she was ready, and then mounted his own horse.
For a while they walked their mounts decorously along the road, dodging the inevitable urchins, pie men, and street sweepers, until they came to the gates of the park. Harry had timed their visit so there would be enough people around for their ride to be conventional and not frowned upon, but not too busy that they wouldn’t get a decent ride in and have time to talk. He could see Lydia was bursting to speak and shook his head warningly. ‘Wait until we reach the far end of the row and we’ll detour a little.’
She narrowed her eyes and then nodded. ‘I see the sense in that; now I suppose we do a decorous canter?’
Harry laughed. ‘What else in town?’
‘Tell me.’ She grimaced. ‘One more reason why I am delighted my time here is almost at an end. One week and a few days only.’
He wished he’d kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t easy riding and knowing you needed to keep a clear head to remember and itemise neatly everything you wanted to say. Not when your companion was the very reason for your disquiet. Nevertheless, Harry marshalled his thoughts as best he could as they rode amicably through the park. At the end of the ride they slowed and he glanced around. It was still early and not that many people were about.
‘If we cut across to the other side we can walk the horses there,’ he suggested. ‘Perhaps talk a little?’
Lydia looked wary. ‘I’m not sure if it would be acceptable behaviour. I might be ready to leave the ton behind, but I’d prefer to do it without blotting my copybook.’
Harry inclined his head. ‘It’s your alleged leaving the ton we need to discuss. And it is acceptable because it is used to reach the other track we can return on. Not as fast as the main one, I agree, but I did tell your mama we’d take that route. She was happy about it.’
Lydia harrumphed. ‘She would be. Any time I spend with you she sees as a feather in her cap.’ They walked on for several seconds and her shoulders rose and fell. ‘Why do we need to discuss my departure? You know when it is.’
‘The other track?’ Harry asked as they halted by the start of it.
‘Oh, I suppose so,’ she said grumpily. ‘Then you can spit out whatever is worrying you, I can reassure you all is going as it should, and we can then perhaps enjoy the end of our ride.’
‘Such graciousness, my love,’ he said softly as she reddened. ‘No, don’t say you’re sorry when we both know it would be a fib. Be true to yourself, Lydia. It’s a facet of you I’m delighted to discover.’
‘It is not a pretty one; I should know better than to be rude to my host,’ she said disgustedly and shook her head. ‘Why do you bring out a side of me I had not thought existed?’
He chuckled. ‘Lying again, love. You know it exists, you just chose to conceal it. Why, I wonder? It adds to your personality and makes you a delight to be with.’
‘I don’t want to be a delight,’ she said despairingly. ‘I just want to be left alone to enjoy my new life. Surely that is not too much to ask for?’
Harry studied her as they began to make their way slowly down the track. What was it about Lydia that, every time he saw her, caused his body to tighten, his senses to go into overdrive, and give him a fierce determination to hold her tightly and kiss her senseless? She wasn’t that sort of young lady, he understood that, but still his body demanded more than chit chat, and his mind told him she was his.
Not wedded, just bedded, and not left alone. For how long?
For ever?
Those few words jarred him as he realised he meant every one. But therein lay the problem. He did not want to marry, not yet. But nor did he want Lydia to wed elsewhere.
Harry, you need to do some serious thinking.
‘Are you unwell?’ Her voice broke into his reverie. ‘You look somewhat bilious.’
Harry brought his thought back to the present with a start and smiled ruefully. Upsetting Lydia would not help further his cause. ‘My apologies, I’m trying to work out how to solve a knotty problem and my mind wandered.’
‘Ah.’ Lydia nodded. ‘Can I help in any way? They do say a problem shared is the way to resolution.’
****
Why was Harry looking at her so strangely? All she’d asked was if he wanted to share his problem. Surely it wasn’t such a terrible thing to say? He looked positively shocked, and had lost some of his colour. And oh my, he shook.
For once in her life, Lydia wished she’d paid more attention to the rules and regulations of the ton, which her mama and school mistresses had tried to instil into her. It was all well and good saying she had no interest. Well, she owned fairly, she hadn’t until now, and oh how she was at a disadvantage.
‘My lord? Harry, if I spoke out of turn, please forgive me. I might be almost on the shelf but I own, I have little town bronze.’ His shoulders shook and his lips firmed. Lydia looked across at him more closely. The wretch was trying hard to contain his amusement and not succeeding.
‘Harry Birnham, are you laughing at me?’ she demanded. How embarrassing. ‘I am not a figure of ridicule, I just…’ Just what?
Her voice trailed off and he let out a large guffaw that made both horses break stride.
Lydia controlled her mount and waited until Harry did the same to his horse. ‘Well?’
‘Ah, love. I’m not laughing at you, but at us.’ He gathered his reins in one hand and leaned across to squeeze her shoulder. ‘I will never laugh at you, I promise. With you, oh yes; at you, never.’
‘What do you mean, at us?’ she asked suspiciously. ‘There is no us.’ He tilted his head slightly.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked softly as he slowly lifted his hand and l
et his fingers trail over her as he straightened. ‘For that is how you can solve my problem.’
She swore she could still feel the imprint of his fingers emblazoned on her skin, even through her riding habit. ‘Why do I have a feeing I won’t like this problem of yours or how you wish to solve it?’
‘My problem,’ he said as they reached the park gate once more, ‘as I have stressed on more than one occasion, is that I want you. Your problem is that you haven’t yet agreed.’
If she hadn’t had her feet firmly in the stirrups she might well have fallen off. ‘What?’ She really must stop eating cheese before bed if it made her hear such ridiculous statements. ‘Tell me I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.’
‘You heard I am going to marry you. I told you that the other day.’
‘Told me, told me? Told me?’ Lord, her voice was rising like a termagant. Lydia reined in her anger and took three deep, calming breaths. ‘I thought you were joking. It was just a silly wager. No, don’t bother making excuses,’ she said as he opened his mouth. ‘The back of a horse is no place for this, and even if it were, the answer would be no. Do you not listen to anything I say?’ she demanded furiously. ‘I do not want to wed. You or anyone.’ She swallowed her disappointment at his inability to understand her. He was the same as everyone else, with no thoughts but to himself and all he wanted. She had thought better of him.
‘Why not? Are you honestly saying you’d prefer a life alone in the country to a life with me and our children?’
‘You are toying with me, and I do not like it. You don’t want to marry.’
‘Not yet, but I will one day,’ he said honestly. ‘Marry and be a father.’
The mention of children gave her a swift pang of something and she quashed it immediately. It couldn’t be allowed to come into the equation. ‘My lord, you and I both know how a marriage in the ton works. And I want none of it. Better to be alone by choice than alone because it is chosen for you. I prefer the former.’
‘Who says our marriage would be like that?’ Harry asked softly. ‘Esther and Cranswick’s is not.’
‘They are something of a rarity and you know it, my lord. Edward has never been overly enamoured with London life. You have. Esther will do whatever Edward requests. I am not so biddable, even though I tried to act so. I could not and will not be a puppet.’
‘We could do it,’ he said stubbornly. ‘If you agreed to be my wife. It doesn’t have to happen this season, but… perhaps…?’
Lydia shook her head, sadder than she had ever been in her life. ‘You know better than to say such things. You might think it now, but we both know how the ton behave. Not for me. Now, please say no more and take me home.’
Where I can indulge in a hearty bout of tears. How can he offer me something I do not want, in such a manner I wish I did?
Harry shook his head. ‘I can take you home but I cannot leave it there.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Lydia, please hear me out.’
What now? He sounds as if he has something to impart I will not like.
‘I can’t do much else, can I?’ she said waspishly. ‘We are riding out of the park and about to head through busy streets. Sadly, I can’t ride away in high dudgeon. So, my lord, what now?’
‘Harry.’
‘Oh no, my lord. I don’t want to use your given name. My lord will do,’ she said emphatically, and left the addendum ‘if I have to address you at all’ unsaid, but she knew Harry understood it was there.
‘Lydia, my dear, I have already spoken to your papa and asked if I may court you with a view to marriage one day, and he is agreeable to the match. He saw no reason why you would refuse me. Indeed, I…’ He hesitated and watched Lydia warily. For a few seconds she stayed silent. Then all the fury of an angry woman was unleashed.
‘You what? Are you completely crazy? Live in a parallel world to mine? What on earth, on earth,’ she reiterated again forcefully, ‘made you say such a stupid thing. How dare you intimate such a thing? You know I am not looking for marriage. Good lord, how many times do you need telling? I do not want to marry. Ever. Is that clear enough for you? Now I suggest you go and tell him just how ill-informed you are. And you can sort all the dust out yourself. I want nothing to do with it. Or at this moment, with you.’
He had dug his hole; now let him climb out of it unaided.
‘Look, my dear, why not?’ he asked earnestly. ‘I promise not to crowd you, but think about it. We get on, you are of an age to wed. I have a country estate, a house in town. I need a wife, and an heir or two. I think you will fit the bill admirably, and you will lack for nothing.’
Oh yes, I will. She didn’t respond, but let her horse walk on with Harry and his own mount by her side.
‘For God’s sake, Lydia, what are you thinking,’ he said irritably after several seconds had passed by in a heavy and icy silence. ‘Will you be my wife?’
‘Ah, a proposal at last,’ she said sarcastically.
‘What?’ Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’
Men were so unthinking at times. ‘That, my lord is the first time you have asked me to be your wife and not told me I will.’
Harry twisted in his saddle and looked at her with an astonished expression. Then his facial muscles relaxed. ‘Really, then on my honour, I do apologise. Please, my dear Lydia, I would be honoured if you would accept my hand in marriage. So, now we have that straight, I may tell your papa we are betrothed? We can arrange our wedding day?’
He was like all men. Blind to all except he wanted to see, deaf to all except he wanted to hear.
‘Such a swift change of heart. Up until yesterday I thought all you wanted was my body, no ties. Now you want me shackled to you.’
‘I still want your body,’ he pointed out. ‘I just thought perhaps you would prefer to regularise our relationship.’
And he wouldn’t? He was doing it just for her? Lydia’s heart shattered into tiny pieces. Of course he wasn’t. There had to be some ulterior motive. ‘I haven’t yet replied to your proposal,’ she said composedly, although if she had been standing her knees would be knocking. ‘And now I will. No. Thank you,’ she added belatedly. There was no need to be impolite even if she did want to scream and throw things.
Harry’s hands dropped and his horse broke into a trot, almost knocking over a tiny urchin carrying a tray of pies. By the time he’d got the horse under control and tossed the urchin a sixpence, Lydia was ready to respond to whatever he threw at her. She knew there would be a lot to answer to, both here and when she got home. She did not believe for one moment her papa would have kept the news to himself, and not shared it with her mama. That lady would be in alt and ready to crow about her daughter’s excellent catch to the world, and it could not be allowed to happen. Especially with that damned, not to be spoken about betting book somewhere.
‘Hell, woman, why not?’ He sounded truly astonished. If nothing else, his incredulity reinforced her thoughts about the males of the species and their ability to ignore anything that was not what they wanted. ‘Your parents think it is a famous idea. I want you. You do not look at me with disgust. We will do well together. I will not be too attentive if you do not want me to be. Lydia, we would work it out.’
Such a damning speech. Where had he considered or mentioned her feelings? Her hopes and dreams? Nowhere.
‘You know, my lord, I do not think you have truly thought this through.’ How could she sound so composed when what she really wanted to do was rush home, lock herself in her room, and cry? ‘Why me? Why now? Want, need – lust – and love are very different emotions. Which are you invested in? That is a rhetorical question. I think perhaps you are like me and don’t think there is much chance for me to achieve what Esther would call a love match.’ Lydia took a deep breath. They had nearly reached her home, so she would need to speak fast. ‘Look, I am going to risk appearing forward, and say lust is not love. You want me, and now; I accept that the more I refuse, the more eager you become. It’s
not love, and you know it. I would never contemplate marriage for any less. So there we have an impasse.’
‘Lydia, I…’ He broke off and sighed. ‘I would love to say you have it wrong, but now you have me wondering just what I feel. Oh hell, what a coil. I cannot cry off; it would not be gentlemanly.’
‘But I have refused you, so your reputation is intact,’ she said with more composure than she imagined possible.
‘You will be ruined. I cannot let that happen.’
‘I won’t be here.’ How much longer did she have to endure it all? Not long, thankfully. Lydia decided she was about to be unwell until her birthday. ‘Seriously, I do not wish to wed anyone, my lord, which I have said so many times I am sick of repeating it. I am happy as I am. Now, just so there is no confusion, let me phrase this correctly. Thank you for your kind offer, my lord, which I chose, choose,’ she reiterated forcefully, ‘to refuse. I do not wish to be your, or indeed anyone else’s, wife. Now, as we are almost at my parents’ house, I bid you farewell.’
He put his hand on her arm and she recoiled as if his touched burned her skin. Insensitive, hateful…
‘Lydia, they expect us back betrothed.’
How? What has been discussed without my knowledge? It didn’t matter. She would cope. Somehow, even though she had no idea how. ‘Then they will be disappointed,’ she said icily. ‘After all, how can such things be decided without one of the parties concerned knowing or agreeing to them? Have we returned to the dark ages? Even arranged marriages have a degree of consent in them. As I have not given mine, it is not a betrothal, nor ever will be.’
Fighting the tears that threatened to upset her composure, Lydia smiled at the groom who came running up to take the horse’s head. Harry dismounted and helped her to do likewise.
The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia Page 13