The Christmas Foundling: A Christmas Regency Romance (Belles of Christmas: Frost Fair Book 5)

by Martha Keyes

  “Tell me all about it,” Diana said. “If you’d like to talk.”

  Since being married, Lydia had never confided her troubles to anyone but Miles. Her own mother had never had any trouble conceiving, and Lydia had heard her attribute the type of misfortune she and Miles were experiencing to the disfavor of God once or twice—enough to make Lydia reluctant to share their troubles with her.

  Over time, Lydia had stopped confiding her struggles to Miles, too. How could she, when their situation was the root cause of her struggles? If she told him all her insecurities, he would have been too kind to tell her the truth of his own thoughts and feelings. He wouldn’t have confirmed her suspicions even if they were true.

  But the result was that Lydia had had no one to talk through things with—she had been a prisoner of her own mind and heart—and the burdens had been piling higher and heavier on her shoulders.

  Whether it was right or not to confide in Diana, Lydia didn’t know. But she couldn’t keep things in any longer.

  Besides, she could hardly have made things any worse than they already were.

  Diana was quiet as Lydia tried to explain the gist of things, only interrupting to ask clarifying questions now and then and, once, finding a handkerchief for her. Thomas played contentedly with his pillow, for the most part, but by the time Lydia had finished, Diana was holding him in her arms, and he was fast falling asleep.

  “Oh, Lydia,” she said. “I am so terribly sorry.”

  Lydia swallowed down the lump in her throat and shook her head, guilt clawing itself above her frustration and hurt as she looked at the baby, peacefully sleeping now. “We made Thomas cry. We scared him with our arguing.” She sniffed and put the handkerchief to her nose. “Miles wants to give Thomas to another family.”

  Diana looked down at the baby, biting her lip. “I have wondered sometimes if Miles is not perhaps a bit jealous of Thomas.” She looked up at Lydia, who stared at her, her mind working through Diana’s words.

  “I don’t mean this as a criticism of you, of course,” Diana continued, “for I know you well enough to understand that you would never hurt anyone intentionally, but so much of your focus and your energy has been directed toward Thomas over the past two weeks. If things have been as you say between you and Miles, I imagine it might be painful for him to see you devoting yourself so fully to someone you only just came to know.” She lifted her shoulders. “It would be a strange man indeed who would not have begun to doubt your feelings toward him after all you have been through. Just as you have doubted his.”

  Lydia fiddled with her fingers in her lap. She hadn’t meant to make Miles feel neglected by her care for Thomas. At first, she had wished only to save Thomas from the situation they had found him in. It had been so wonderful, though, to hold a much-desired babe in her arms, to feel what she had longed for so long to experience.

  But, even more than that, Thomas had soothed her loneliness. He had filled some of the hole left by what her marriage had become.

  “I don’t know how to fix things, Di,” she said. “I don’t even know if they can be fixed.”

  “Well,” she said, rocking Thomas gently as he stirred, “I think you need to reassure him. Miles, I mean. He needs to know that you want above anything else to be with him, no matter what the future holds. Is that reassurance not what you wish for, as well? What you have been doubting? Of course, both of you want a child and an heir. But would you take an heir and a broken marriage with Miles over a happy marriage with him and no heir?”

  Lydia shook her head. “No.”

  Diana sent her a sympathetic smile. “Then, you must decide how to ensure he knows your loyalty lies with him.”

  “But what if his does not lie with me? What if what he wants more than anything is an heir? And I can’t give that to him?”

  Diana gave a long sigh. “I do not think that is the case, Lydia. He loves you. I am sure of it. But he has been raised to think an heir his duty—a measure of his success. It takes time to change how you think of yourself. But I imagine he could bear with the prospect of the title passing to someone else if he was certain of your affection. It must be difficult indeed to feel as though he has lost both an heir and a wife.”

  Lydia put a hand to her mouth to stop its trembling. Diana was painfully right. In all Lydia’s efforts to protect her own heart from rejection, she had rejected Miles. They were both mourning alone when they had promised to stand by each other.

  Through Lydia’s blurry vision, she looked at Thomas.

  Had he become a thorn in the flesh for Miles? A painful reminder that his wife’s affections lay elsewhere?

  She adored Thomas, certainly. But more than she valued her marriage? Perhaps she was trying to do things backwards. She had been assuming that producing an heir was the only thing that could fix their marriage, but they could not bring a child into the home when their marriage was in shambles. Only look at the effect their fighting had had on Thomas.

  “One more thing,” Diana said, “and then I shall be silent. I promise. I remember well how it was to be with the two of you while you were courting and when you were first married.” She smiled saucily. “It was almost nauseating how the love emanated from both of you. I particularly remember the night before your wedding, talking to you of the future—I can still recall how your eyes shone when you spoke of it.” She tucked a strand of Lydia’s hair behind her ear. “It is easier to dream up such a future than to create it, isn’t it?”

  Lydia nodded with her heart in her throat. The present was nothing like she had dreamed—or assumed—her future with Miles would be.

  “Your life with Miles may not be what either of you anticipated, but that does not mean that there isn’t joy and happiness to be found in it. It is simply a matter of working toward it—of looking for the opportunities that become available as other ones slip from your grasp. But first you must both decide that you wish for such a future. Together.”

  Lydia knew Diana was right. She only feared that perhaps Miles no longer wished for her to be part of his future. Perhaps too much damage had been done.

  She needed to show him beyond any doubt that she would stay by his side if he would let her—that there was no reason at all to doubt her love or loyalty to him.

  And she was beginning to understand what that might entail.

  Chapter 21

  Miles spent the morning in his bedchamber, lying on his back, staring up at the bed hangings above.

  He had reacted with more anger than he had ever betrayed in his life. And he knew why. Hurt had been building within him for months now—longer, even. And seeing the pennyroyal, reading the letter from the solicitor…it had felt like all his worst fears being confirmed. No, not his worst fears. They were fears he had never even considered, for he had thought he knew Lydia too well to even contemplate such things. But seeing them had made him wonder how well he really did know her anymore.

  Perhaps if he’d only had time to reflect before approaching her about his discoveries, he might have realized there were alternative explanations to the ones his mind and heart had jumped to.

  But she had come in right then, just as he’d been in the middle of trying to understand it all. And he had done exactly what she’d said: made assumptions.

  She told him she hadn’t had her courses for months now. He knew how carefully she had always paid attention to such things—indeed, he had as well. But it had been a long time since Miles had known the merest detail of what was happening in Lydia’s body—or mind or heart, for that matter. And she had been carrying this burden alone.

  He didn’t know what to believe anymore. What did Lydia want? He could ask her, of course, but it had been so long since they had been fully truthful with one another in their communications, he didn’t know if she would tell him her full and honest feelings. She might not feel safe doing so, particularly after all the awful things he had said to her just now. Even if she had been inquiring with the solicitor about divorce on
his behalf rather than hers, he wouldn’t blame her if she wanted the information for herself now. He had been a brute. He had accused her of infidelity, of all things. And with not a shred of justification.

  He had let his own hurt drive him to hurt her, and that was so far from what he wanted. How would he make amends for it? He didn’t know, but he had to try.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and strode to the door between his and Lydia’s rooms, rapping on the door. There was no response.

  “Lydia?”

  Still nothing. No sign of any movement.

  With a nervous swallow, he opened the door, just enough to glance into the room. It was empty.

  He shut it and hurried from his room. Where might she have gone? Perhaps she was with Diana and Mary. They hadn’t been the best hosts to her sisters over the past few days. That was certain.

  But she wasn’t downstairs, either. Nor were Mary and Diana. Had they gone out, then?

  Miles stopped one of the footmen in the hallway. “Have you seen Lady Lynham? Or her sisters?”

  “They went out, my lord. Not fifteen minutes since.”

  “Thank you.”

  The footman bowed and continued about his duties, and Miles’s shoulders dropped with the sigh he let out—a sigh of defeat. It was a trial to be patient when he wanted so badly to express what was inside him.

  But he had no other option than to wait.

  Chapter 22

  Lydia cried softly the entire walk to her mother-in-law’s with Thomas in her arms, bundled in two blankets. Diana and Mary walked beside her, both silent, both holding a small bag of the various belongings Thomas had acquired during his time with Lydia and Miles.

  Lydia was grateful for their silence. Words could do nothing. Only time would heal this wound.

  She should have prepared herself for it, protected her heart more by letting Jane care more for Thomas. She should not have allowed herself to become so attached. They had never intended to keep Thomas for more than a couple of weeks, and yet Lydia hadn’t been able to stop herself from hoping for just that. She had come to realize she didn’t need a child of her own flesh and blood; she just wanted a child to love.

  But mostly, she wanted Miles. She could bear anything if she was confident of his love and his desire for a future with her.

  The dowager baroness welcomed the sisters and Thomas with warmth and surprise, ringing for tea to be brought directly. Her eyes lingered on Thomas quite a bit, a fact which brought on an extra degree of hesitation from Lydia.

  “We cannot stay long, I’m afraid,” Lydia said as they sat down.

  “Oh,” said the dowager baroness as she prepared the tea. It was clear she was very curious about the reason for their unexpected visit.

  But Lydia wasn’t quite ready to tell her. She wanted to hold Thomas a little longer. Instead, she asked her mother-in-law questions about Miles’s siblings, trying to keep her mind from the looming goodbye she would have to say to the warm, happy baby she held on her lap. Lydia had little heart for conversation, though, so she was grateful she had brought Diana and Mary with her, as they supplied it in ample measure.

  But it couldn’t be put off forever, particularly when Lydia had assured the dowager they wouldn’t be staying long.

  “He is looking much better than he did when we first came upon him, isn’t he?” The dowager indicated Thomas with her head, smiling at him.

  Lydia could only manage a nod.

  Diana shot her an evaluative expression, as if trying to gauge whether Lydia intended to broach the subject they had come to discuss yet.

  It was time.

  “In fact, it is Thomas who brings us here,” Lydia said, forcing herself to keep her composure. This was important. “Miles mentioned you had sent him a note about the situation you had found for him.”

  The dowager nodded, eyes watchful and curious.

  “You have been kind to search such a thing out,” Lydia said, even if kind wasn’t the word she might have chosen. “I certainly don’t wish to trouble you any further, but I was wondering if you might be willing to arrange for him to be conveyed there as well.”

  The dowager’s brows rose. “Oh, I see. Yes, of course. I should be more than happy to do so.”

  Lydia swallowed and tried for a smile. “It is good of you. It may seem strange to you that I should wish for you to do it, but…I think I will find it easier the less I know.”

  Diana took her hand and held it between hers.

  “As long as I know he will be well cared for,” she said with a lump in her throat, “I shall be content.” At least she hoped she would be, in time. This was necessary. She had to continue reminding herself of that fact. For the sake of her marriage, this was what was best. And for Thomas, as well. She would never forget the look of fright in his eyes when he had witnessed her argument with Miles.

  “I understand,” said the dowager baroness. She leaned forward and set a hand on Lydia’s knee. “You are making the right decision, my dear. I hope you know that.”

  Lydia nodded, feeling her emotions fraying quickly.

  Her mother-in-law looked at her with sympathy in her eyes and sat back in her chair. “I can have him conveyed there today if you wish it.”

  Lydia did not wish it, but there was no reason to delay things. It would only get more difficult the longer she waited, the more time she spent with him. He grabbed at her finger, shaking it up and down.

  “I do wish it. May I just have a moment with him, though?” She asked it without looking up at the others.

  “Of course,” said the dowager, and she and Lydia’s sisters rose from their seats.

  Diana and Mary came over to Thomas first, taking turns kissing him on the top of the head.

  “Goodbye, little ragamuffin,” Diana said.

  “Goodbye, sweet Thomas,” said Mary.

  They walked to the door, Diana with a sympathetic glance over her shoulder at Lydia.

  “I’ll only be a moment,” Lydia said, trying for a smile. She would only allow herself that long.

  The door closed softly, and she looked at Thomas, who was reaching for something nearby.

  “Just you and I, my love,” she said softly. “Just as it so often has been.”

  He flailed his arms, eyes on the buttons of her glove, and she let him play with it. He hadn’t any idea what was happening. He was smiling, alert, and energetic. Everything that Lydia was not.

  It was bittersweet, for it couldn’t help but drive home the fact that Thomas wouldn’t remember her. He would quickly adapt to whatever his new situation was, anxious to experience the new sights and sounds available to him there. He was adaptable; he was naturally good-tempered. Both those things would stand him in good stead.

  As for her, though…she would never forget him.

  Chapter 23

  The afternoon light was fading by the time Miles thought he heard the front door of the townhouse open. Standing before the mirror in his bedroom, he cocked an ear. It was an abnormally quiet entrance if it was indeed Lydia and her sisters. Diana’s voice usually carried very well. Perhaps it wasn’t them after all.

  He had known a moment of panic earlier, wondering if it was possible that the three of them had left—left London—to travel to their home. His words to Lydia had been unforgivable. Perhaps he had driven her away and she had taken Thomas with her. He could hardly have blamed her if that was the case.

  But a quick glance in Lydia’s bedroom then Diana and Mary’s told him that he was being ridiculous. They had clearly gone out for a simple walk or something of the sort. No doubt, they would be home in time for dinner, preferably far enough in advance that he could steal Lydia away to talk to her. To apologize.

  It was why he was dressed for dinner so far in advance of the normal time. He wanted to be sure he was ready.

  He heard footsteps in the corridor outside his room and muted voices. He hurried over to the door, opening it and stepping out into the corridor just in time to se
e Lydia slip into her bedroom. Diana and Mary stood in front of her door, faces somber as they glanced at Miles.

  Lydia must have told them of his unkindness.

  “I thought I heard you return,” he said with a lump in his throat. He deserved that everyone should know what an awful brute he was.

  “Yes,” Diana said. Never had he seen her look so serious.

  “Just in time to dress for dinner.” He stepped toward Lydia’s bedchamber. “Perhaps I can take Thomas so that Lydia can dress in peace.”

  Both Diana and Mary put a hand out to stop him.

  “He isn’t in there,” Mary said.

  Miles checked, letting his hand drop in the act of reaching for the doorknob. “She gave him to Jane, then?”

  Diana shook her head, looking at him with something near to pity in her eyes. “He is gone, Miles.”

  He stared at her, stifling a nervous laugh. She clearly wasn’t teasing. “What?”

  “It is where we went,” she said. “To your mother’s. She is to take him to”—she lifted her shoulders—“wherever he is going.”

  Miles could only stare.

  “I think Lydia needs a bit of time alone,” Diana continued. “She said she will be down for dinner, though.” She looked at Mary, and they gave Miles a little curtsy before making their way to their bedrooms.

  Miles remained in the corridor for some time. Thomas was gone? Taken to his mother’s? What did it mean? He wanted nothing more than to knock on her door and ask her himself. But Diana had said Lydia needed time.

  Of course she did. If she had just said goodbye to Thomas….

  He cringed, then his heart panged. He had never said goodbye. Had Lydia truly thought he wouldn’t want to? Or that he wished her to give the baby up so quickly?

  He hadn’t meant to mention his mother’s letter to her, but he had been so hurt by his discoveries in Lydia’s room that he had done so. And at the worst moment. She had already doubted his affection for Thomas.