Harry nodded. ‘Fair enough. Then let us compose an epistle to your papa. And another notice to The Times.’
Harry patted her hand. ‘No one except you and I can know what’s actually going on. I suggest we do the ‘we are outraged’ thing, and make sure it is placed on a prominent page., I can ask Jem to take it to my solicitor’s to be couriered first thing in the morning with the letters I have already written, and they will be in London in no time. Then we can carry on with our lives here, and I…’ He winked wickedly. ‘I will woo you.’ He turned towards a console table and opened the drawer. ‘Every word, every action, will be my promise to you. That you are my sun, moon, and stars. We will overcome all obstacles and grow old together. I will be a faithful husband, Lydia, and if God – and you – will it, a loving papa. I have no ring, but perhaps…’ He pinned the amethyst brooch on the neckline of her gown and slipped the necklace around her neck. ‘Until I do?’
A frisson of excitement travelled up her spine. He’d kept them, and now she could wear them.
‘Is this part of your wooing?’
He nodded, his eyes watchful.
‘Good.’
‘There is pen and paper on the escritoire over there.’ Harry waved to the wall where a neat writing desk sat. ‘Not really suitable for all my needs, but it will do.’
‘It’s lovely.’ Lydia ran her finger over the walnut inlays. ‘I’ll buy it from you.’
‘No, you won’t – it can be part of my betrothal gift to you.’
‘But…’
Harry silenced her with a finger over her lips as he drew out a chair one-handed and seated her at the desk. ‘Shh now, Make it seem real, remember?’
As if she could forget.
Ten minutes later they both sat back simultaneously and smiled at each other.
‘That is perfect,’ Lydia said with satisfaction. ‘I commend you on your wording, my lord. I wonder, though. What about Jeremy? Will it work?’
‘It should. Well, he knows I’m not in London, and was told I’d travelled to the country. I assume he will think I’m in Rutlandshire. Pugh, my agent in London, informed me Jeremy had asked him. I’d told Pugh there was no need to share my precise whereabouts. However, once the announcement is public knowledge, I imagine he’ll start searching in earnest. Don’t worry – he will not try anything while I’m around.’
‘He won’t try anything whether you are around or not, not if he values his body as it is,’ Lydia said fiercely. ‘I have a good aim and, by golly, I wouldn’t be afraid to use it in whatever way was necessary.’
‘Remind me never to really rile you,’ Harry said fervently as he attached his signature to the letters. ‘Right, that’s all done. So, now I wonder…’ He drew Lydia to her feet and stood facing her. Her heart thudded at the speculative expression on his face. What on earth was he about to do?
It wasn’t long before she found out. Lydia swallowed as he bent his head.
‘If you say stop, I will,’ he whispered as his breath teased her cheek. ‘But oh, how I hope you will not. I want to taste you, sweet Lydia. Feel your lips on mine and…’ His voice deepened. ‘Lead you down the path of sweet torment until you beg to know more. Will you let me?’
Any coherent thoughts she harboured disappeared along with the capacity to speak. Instead, she nodded and clutched his lapels. His scent surrounded her, filled her, and made her skin tingle, and as his lips touched hers, oh so softly, she moaned and swayed.
‘More.’ Lydia could hardly recognise her own voice. Breathy, anticipatory, wanting. ‘Please show me more.’
‘Open your mouth for me, let me in to sip your sweetness.’ His words hardly registered as his tongue circled her lips and then dipped between them to mesh and dance with her own.
All her nerves seized up as Harry put one hand on the nape of her neck, and the other, good lord, on her bottom and pulled her tight up against him.
Every contour of his body imprinted on hers. Every single one. Even in her bemused and aroused state she recognised that fact. Also, that one part of him was hard and throbbing and seemed to want to be inside her, not merely resting hard – in more ways than one – up against her, if the way it pushed into her skin was any indication.
Oh my. Her body was on fire, her vision, when she tried to open her eyes, misty. Was this what those pamphlets meant about a sensual haze? A state of arousal so strong it clouded everything else. If it was that, she was all for it.
Therefore, when Harry gentled the kiss and loosened his grip on her, the sense of loss was so acute Lydia took a step forward to touch his body again. ‘I didn’t say stop,’ she said softly, amazed at her temerity. Not an hour ago she was anti anything to do with men, and now? Now she didn’t know what she wanted, except to discover more of what she’d just had. ‘I want more.’
‘You might, love, but I had to draw a halt.’ Very firmly Harry pushed her into a nearby armchair and went to stand by the window, where she noticed his staff was very clearly outlined under his pantaloons. It looked impossibly large and she had the uneasy thought that it must be most uncomfortable and would never fit inside a woman as those dratted pamphlets intimated.
‘One moment.’ With a wry smile he turned his back on Lydia. When he swung around again she blinked. Whatever he’d done, his staff wasn’t where it had been before. Indeed, it seemed to have… oh no… She stared again. The bulge was just rearranged.
Harry followed her gaze, and laughed humorously. ‘Hmm, well it might not be the done thing to remark on certain parts of my anatomy, but this…’ His hand brushed the outline. ‘This is what you do to me.’
‘I do?’ Lydia was fascinated. ‘How?’
‘Oh yes,’ he confirmed. ‘And no, we are not going to do anything about it. Not yet and maybe never. This is not for you, not at the moment,’ he said with a note of finality in his voice.
She swallowed and would have loved to tell him that was a pity. But, in all honesty, she wasn’t sure if it was. Too much too soon.
Lydia nodded. ‘I trust your judgement.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose. You know? This is all so strange. I just do not know what to think.’
Harry kissed her nose. ‘Then don’t think, just let us see what happens. And on that note I’ll escort you home, and when I return make sure these letters go first thing in the morning. Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I will no doubt have a sleepless night, calling myself all sorts of fool for stopping when I did. Even if most of me accepts it was the correct thing to do, a certain part rails against my decision.’
Chapter Fifteen
It was no hardship for Harry to deal with the polite and the not so courteous enquiries with regards to him and his potential marital status. He just drew on all his lordly qualities and answered in whatever manner he felt the questioner deserved. But he guessed Lydia would not have it so easy. The attention they would get once the announcement was made, two days hence, he shuddered to think.
To flummox people, they had decided, when he left her on that evening, not to meet until he called on her two nights later, once prying eyes would hopefully not be around. To that end, Harry approached Lydia’s garden gate just after ten the evening after they had plotted and planned. Not because he had any news to impart, but just because he wanted to spend some time with her. To his surprise he realised he didn’t even think of progressing with his woo-and-wed Lydia campaign; he merely wanted to enjoy her company.
He opened the gate carefully and rocked on his heels as he was pulled sharply into the shadow of a large shrub.
‘Shh.’
Harry blinked at Millie who shook her head warningly. ‘The windows are open. I was about to come into the lane to waylay you. That lot,’ she said, nodding towards the windows of the formal lounge, which shone with the light of sundry lamps and outlined several female shapes, ‘descended after supper and show no inclination to move. The worst of the gossips. Mind you, Miss Lydia is giving as good as she gets and so far no one has asked her outright what i
s happening. I’m sorting the tea trolley…’ She grinned and her teeth showed white in the darkness. ‘Allegedly.’
‘Bugger,’ Harry said feelingly. ‘Oh sorry.’
‘No need, my lord. Lydia said a lot worse when she saw them. Luckily I was in our private sitting room so she nipped in and asked me to intercept you. She says tomorrow?’
Harry nodded slowly, then made a decision. ‘Can you get me into your private sitting room unnoticed?’
Millie tilted her head as she thought. ‘I reckon so as long as you’re quiet. The worst bit will be as we head to the French window. I managed to get between the shrubbery and the wall but I’m not sure you’d make it.’ She looked at him and then gulped. ‘You have wide shoulders.’
Harry bit back the grin her words conjured up, and grimaced. ‘I’ll try.’
It was a tight fit but he managed it – just – and with only a few scrapes to his knuckles and one scuff on his hessians that Foster would have a fit over if he ever saw it. Thankfully the man was still in London and wouldn’t join Harry until the following week, when Harry judged that, to enable him to fulfil his role as a happily affianced gentleman, he would need his valet. Once they gained the safety of the room Lydia and Millie used as their own, he tugged his waistcoat into place, and picked several leaves from his jacket and a twig or two from his hair. He stood to the side of the room, well into the shadows, until Millie closed the window and shut the curtains.
‘I’ve not locked it in case you need to escape,’ she said and rolled her eyes. ‘Goodness, how melodramatic.’ She sounded thoroughly disgusted with herself. ‘But best to be safe than sorry.’
‘As you say, and some of these locals could give any London lady a run for their money. You should hear Jem’s mama going on about them.’ Harry shook his head, even though he doubted Millie could see the gesture in the darkened room, with only the fire to cast a few shadows. ‘She has no truck with them and tells them outright as far as I can gather. Once you have managed to get rid of the harpies, let Lydia know I’m here, will you please, Millie?’
Millie nodded. ‘Of course. I daresay you won’t want tea but there’s some good brandy in the decanter and a bottle of single malt next to it. Sorry it’s only firelight, but best not to light a lamp, eh? Now I’ll away and serve this blasted tea to help move them on their way.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to add arsenic?’
She chuckled. ‘Don’t tempt me, my lord. Mind you, some of them are so poisonous it wouldn’t even impinge on them. No, it’ll be lukewarm by now, so they have no excuse to linger over it.’ Millie whisked out of the room and a few moments later Harry heard the rattle of the tea trolley as it went past the room and towards the gathering. He tugged his boots off and, careful not to let them drop heavily on the floor, tucked them behind the coal scuttle where they would be unseen unless you put more fuel on the fire. Then he walked in his stockinged feet across to the sideboard, studied the bottle and decanter for a few moments, and selected the whisky. Port he had a-plenty, but whisky in his home was in short supply at that moment as he waited for a new batch to arrive from his spirit merchant who in turn had to order it from the distillery in Speyside. He poured out a dram, added water from a handy carafe, and walked back to sit in one of the generously stuffed armchairs that were positioned sideways on to the fire. There was no saying how long he’d have to wait. The moon was almost full and if the ladies were local they night not be in any hurry to leave.
However, within ten minutes or so voices could be heard in the hall outside and he tilted his head to listen more clearly. What prompted his next action, Harry had no idea, but without undue haste he stood up, grabbed his boots in his spare hand, and moved to stand behind the long curtain over the French windows. Thoughtfully, he opened the paned door, and slid out, to close it carefully behind him and move himself, his whisky, and his boots behind the tall shrubs that edged the paved area next to the doors.
Not a moment too soon, it seemed, as the door in the French windows he had so recently exited via opened and a very frosty-voiced Lydia spoke. ‘Now, my lady, I hope all your suspicions are waylaid. This is my private sitting room you invaded on a weak and vague pretext you heard something. As you see, the only extraneous presence in here is you. I suggest now you leave.’
‘Well, my goodness, how dare you?’ As he thought, it was Lady Babbacombe.
‘Oh, very easily,’ Lydia replied insouciantly. ‘How about you?’
Someone guffawed and then another voice interpolated. ‘Come away, Hortense, do. You are not just embarrassing Lady Lydia but the rest of us as well. And, if, and I say if, there were someone here, what business is it of yours? You take this too far. We agreed to accompany you on a friendly – your words – visit, but all you have done is subject Lady Lydia to an interrogation and that, my dear, is not acceptable. Lady Lydia, on behalf of all of us, I apologise.’
‘No need,’ Lydia said. Even though the voices were muffled, Harry heard the amusement in hers. ‘We can’t be responsible for other adults’ behaviours, my lady.’
Someone made a noise like a constipated mule. Harry bit his lips so as not to laugh.
‘I appreciate all you have tried to do, though,’ Lydia added.
‘That’s good then. Now we must go but I will be in touch before long.’ There was a silence and Harry heard one set of footsteps fade and a door bang as if someone had slammed it in anger. Then the woman Lydia had referred to as ‘my lady’, he assumed, cleared her throat. ‘And strictly in confidence, you will be welcome to bring whomever you want with you to dinner.’
‘Ah, thank you.’ Now he thought Lydia sounded flustered. ‘How kind but…’
‘Well, my dear, my son is a friend of Harry Birnham, you know, and you could do a lot worse. Not that I know anything. I’m just passing comment.’
‘In that case, thank you again.’
‘Now I’m going before you consider me as much a nuisance as Lady Babbacombe.’
This time two sets of footsteps faded and then a door closed, with much less force than previously. Harry leant against the wall, ignored the stones that dug through his stockings and into his feet, and sipped his whisky, glad he’d had the forethought to bring his glass with him.
He scanned his friends and realised that the ‘my lady’ was probably his friend the Earl of Kingswear’s mother. Larry Chudleigh hailed from this part of Devon, Harry remembered. It looked as if the Duchess was on his side and intended to encourage Lydia to consider him as a husband. As long as she wasn’t too pushy. He knew enough of Lydia to understand that attitude would push her in the opposite direction.
The sound of a key turning in the lock made Harry drop his boots and move forward swiftly. He had to hope it was Millie or Lydia who thought to make safe the door. With a heave, he pressed on the handle before the lock could engage.
‘Don’t. It’s me, Harry.’
The door swung open and Lydia peered out at him. ‘Harry? What on earth are you doing?`’ She glanced at his feet. ‘Dressed or undressed like that?’
‘Long story. Didn’t Millie tell you I was here?’
‘She hadn’t had a chance.’ Lydia stood back to let him in. ‘She brought in such an awful pot of tea that, if I hadn’t wanted to get rid of them, I would have been mortified. Then, as soon as humanly possible, she whisked the trolley and herself out.’
‘Sensible lady. Hold on.’ Harry passed her his whisky. ‘Let me retrieve my boots.’ He picked them up, walked on tiptoe to the entrance, and crossed to the carpet with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Lord, that’s better. I’ve become soft since I bought myself out of the army. In those days I could walk barefoot over anything and frequently did so. Now? I prefer footwear. May I?’ He indicated the chair and, on Lydia’s nod, sat and pulled his boots back on.
‘Why did you take them off anyway?’ she asked curiously.
He stamped his feet down to settle the boots as he wanted them. ‘So I wouldn’t make a noise. It seemed it did
n’t work,’ he finished in disgust. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I heard nothing. Lady B had been angling to look in here ever since I ushered everyone into the formal sitting room. “Oh, my dear, why not your private one.”’ She did a fair imitation of the lady in question. ‘She was, “I’m sure you must have one, so much more comfortable. Unless you don’t want us in it?” It was said so archly I wanted to stick my tongue out or be sick. Instead I smiled sweetly and said of course I had, but a private sitting room is just that. Private. The larger one is for visitors. And I then chose not to light the fire. Cat she is.’
‘I hope to hell I never cross swords with you, my love.’
She looked him up and down. ‘Well, in all truth, so do I. Could you pour me a whisky, please? I think I need one. This evening has more than worn me out, and not for any good reasons either. If someone doesn’t do Lady B an injury I would be most surprised. She would try the patience of a saint, that one.’
One dram became two, two became three, and it was well past midnight before Harry made his way back down the lane. There had been a rather interesting few minutes where he had to exert every ounce of his control not to go that little bit further with Lydia and untie those enticing red ribbons at her throat and peel her gown down to show her luscious breasts in full. That she was willing was a sop to his conscience, but he needed to know why before he did anything else. And after a fraught evening was not the time. He averted his eyes from her body, where her breasts heaved up and down and her skin had the soft bloom of arousal in it.
‘I’ll meet you at eleven and we’ll go and see what news Williams has, shall we? I received a note saying he’d like me to visit at my earliest convenience, and congratulating me on my betrothal. He’d had a package from London via courier, which, along with a letter he wished to discuss with me, had that information in it as well. He would come here but I know he had two boats in and it’s not convenient.’
The Lord's Persuasion of Lady Lydia Page 23