He berated himself for the thought, especially at such a time, slowing to a brisk trot as they joined the main road that led into the outskirts of Whitby, though the change of pace did nothing to ease the growing tension between them.
‘Frances...’ He couldn’t put off the news about Lydia any longer.
‘Yes?’ Her voice sounded more guarded than before.
‘Dr Bennett spoke to me this morning.’
‘Oh?’
‘About your sister.’
‘What?’ She pulled on her reins, her voice sharp with panic. ‘What about her?’
‘Apparently she had some kind of accident yesterday when she was out riding.’
‘But she’s all right?’
‘I don’t know. She hit her head and... Frances!’ he called after her as she spurred her horse on again, but it was too late. She was already turning the corner of the street ahead of them, galloping at full pelt over the cobbles towards her parents’ house.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Lydia!’
Frances burst into the house, charging breathlessly across the hall and up the stairs into her sister’s bedroom.
‘Oh, Frances.’ Her mother got up from the bedside and opened her arms when she saw her. ‘Thank goodness you’re here.’
‘Mama.’ She flung herself into her embrace. ‘I only just found out. What happened?’
‘All I know is what Leo Fairfax told us. He said that she wanted to race, that she claimed she was sick of being cooped up and a prisoner and she wanted to feel free. Free!’ Her mother’s face crumpled. ‘Then she fell. This is all my fault.’
‘No.’ Frances clasped her hands tightly. ‘If it’s anyone’s fault, then it’s mine. She was upset about Arthur and me. I should never have kept secrets from her.’ She forced herself to look down at the bed. Lydia was lying perfectly still, the top of her beautiful face covered with a thick, white bandage. ‘How bad is it?’
‘She’s been unconscious since it happened. The doctor says that if she doesn’t wake up soon...’
Her mother faltered, unable to finish the sentence. She didn’t need to. The implications were all too obvious.
‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here.’ Frances squeezed her hands again.
‘There was nothing you could have done. After we got your message about Mrs Amberton I thought it was better to leave you where you were. How is she?’
‘She had twins, a boy and a girl.’
‘Oh.’ Her mother’s eyes filled with tears. ‘How lovely. I’m happy for her. Was Arthur there, too?’
‘Yes, he brought me back when Dr Bennett told him about Lydia. He’s probably taking the horses around to the stables now. I abandoned mine in the middle of the road.’
‘Well, I’m glad he’s here to take care of you.’ Her mother almost managed a smile. ‘You should go downstairs now. I’ll stay here.’
‘No, I want to stay with you, both of you.’
‘You can come back soon, but your father needs you, too. This has been a terrible shock for him. Go down and see how he’s doing for me.’
‘If that’s what you want, Mama...’ Frances dragged herself away reluctantly, descending the staircase to find Arthur and her father standing by the parlour window together. Both of them looked round when she entered, though for a moment she felt as though she were looking at a pair of strangers. Her father seemed to have developed new worry lines since she’d last seen him, and Arthur...she felt a shiver run down her spine...his face wasn’t so much harrowed as blank, without any expression at all. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d undressed and then kissed her so tenderly the night before.
‘Is she...?’ Her father started forward hopefully.
‘No.’ She winced as the gleam in his eyes faded. ‘But she doesn’t seem to be in pain.’
‘Yes. That’s something, I suppose.’ Her father’s voice turned shaky. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Lord Scorborough, I’ll be in my study.’
‘Papa...’ She made a move as if to stop him, but he was too fast, crossing the room with the speed of a man half his age.
‘I think he wants to be alone.’
Arthur’s tone was sympathetic, though he made no attempt to approach her either and she folded her arms, feeling cold all of a sudden. ‘I’ve never seen him like this. So...stricken. Mama, too. I should have been here for them.’
‘I’m sorry, Frances.’
‘It’s not your fault. You brought me back as soon as you could. Mama said she didn’t send word straight away because she knew I was helping Violet.’
‘I see.’ Neither of them spoke again for a few moments, as if the air was too heavy for words to penetrate. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘No.’
‘If there is...’
‘I’ll send word.’
They lapsed into silence again, the few feet between them feeling like miles.
‘I ought to go back upstairs.’ Frances dropped her arms back to her sides, unable to bear the tension any longer.
‘Of course.’ He straightened his shoulders as if her words had just jolted him. ‘In that case, I’ll be at the farm...if you need me.’
‘Yes.’ She felt a lump swell in her throat and cleared it hastily. ‘Your animals will be hungry.’
‘I have a boy who helps me now.’ He frowned as if he’d intended to say something else and then hastened towards the door. He was only marginally slower than her father had been, as if he couldn’t wait to get away, too.
‘Frances...’ he paused at the last moment on the threshold, his face utterly emotionless ‘... I’m deeply sorry. If I could go back and do things differently, I would.’
She didn’t answer, waiting until he’d gone before sinking down into a chair. Somehow those words seemed the cruellest of all. If I could go back and do things differently... Which things? His engagement to her? His relationship with Lydia? Both? Everything that had seemed so clear the previous night and that morning seemed thrown into doubt, as if she’d simply imagined their closeness. But surely she couldn’t have, not completely. He’d come to her room, he’d taken her in his arms, he’d kissed her leg and asked her to marry him as soon as possible. And yet the news of Lydia’s accident had altered him completely. He seemed almost as shocked as her father. Which meant that there was only one conclusion she could come to, one that seemed more and more obvious the longer she thought of it: that he really loved Lydia after all and the accident had finally shown him that fact. Which meant only one thing for them.
She pushed the thought away. Whatever it meant, it wasn’t important now. Only Lydia was important. Her own relationship with Arthur, whatever it was, or wasn’t, could wait.
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur. Frances spent most of her time in the nursery with Georgie, trying to pretend that everything was all right, or by her sister’s bedside with her mother who never left, not even to eat or sleep. There were no set mealtimes any more, no semblance of a routine. Everything seemed on hold, as if the whole house was holding its breath, waiting for Lydia to wake up.
Arthur visited punctiliously every afternoon, though she wished that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t that he did anything overtly wrong. He was polite and solicitous and said all the right words of comfort, but the lack of warmth behind them meant they had the opposite effect. He never tried to touch her either, always keeping his hands clasped behind his back, as if he found the occasions as strained and painful as she did. There seemed to be some kind of wall between them, one made of ice since their meetings left her feeling so cold.
He made no mention of the special licence or their wedding either, not that she would have expected him to, but their shared silence on the subject seemed to grow more and more conspicuous. A casual observer might have taken them for nothing more than acquaintances. She couldn’t h
elp but wonder if he was worrying about Lydia and the idea made her feel guilty, angry and humiliated all at the same time. The more she considered it, however, the more she thought that she must have been nothing more than a Lydia substitute all along. Not intentionally, perhaps—she didn’t think so badly of him—but still just a replacement, a slightly damaged version of the original.
As if all that wasn’t bad enough, she had Leo to deal with, too. He called one morning and, with her parents occupied, she was the only one left to receive him.
‘You must hate me.’ The first words out of his mouth made her want to slap him. Hard. They were typical of Leo. Even with Lydia lying unconscious, he could only think of the situation in terms of himself. She spent ten minutes listening to his excuses and explanations before declaring it was time for her to go to the nursery.
‘Oh.’ He looked surprised to be interrupted, though he moved to the doorway obediently enough. ‘I seem to cause nothing but trouble for your family.’
She had to bite her lip to stop herself from agreeing, though his regret seemed genuine.
‘I’m sure there was nothing you could have done. Once Lydia gets an idea in her head, it’s hard to stop her.’
‘Yes.’ He bowed his head morosely. ‘But I’m sorry, especially after everything that happened between us... I’m sorry about that, too.’
‘That was a long time ago. You’re forgiven.’
‘Thank you, Frances.’
She showed him out of the house with a bittersweet sense of satisfaction. He still couldn’t look her full in the eye, but at least the pain of his rejection was gone. Speaking to Leo face to face hadn’t hurt at all. Whereas speaking to Arthur, on the other hand...
The only positive in the whole situation was the amount of time her parents spent together. Her father took to sitting in Lydia’s bedchamber, too, side by side with her mother, holding her hand in a way she hadn’t seen him do in years. She didn’t know which of her parents had reached for the other first, but it warmed her heart to see it, as if something good might eventually come of something so bad.
* * *
It was the fourth day after the accident when Lydia finally woke up, just as their mother was raising a glass of water to her lips.
‘Mama?’ The sound of her voice propelled both Frances and her father to their feet.
‘Oh!’ Their mother almost dropped the glass of water in surprise, though thankfully their father managed to catch it.
‘Lydia.’ His voice was tight with emotion. ‘How do you feel?’
‘My head hurts.’ She looked dazed as she shifted slightly and then cried out.
‘Don’t try to move.’ Their mother laid a hand tenderly on her shoulder. ‘You’ve given us quite a scare.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Lydia’s eyes moved around the room before settling on her. ‘Frances...’
‘I’m here.’ Frances leaned over the bed, blinking rapidly to stop herself from sobbing with relief. ‘I’m so glad you’re awake.’
‘What happened?’ Lydia’s brows knitted together. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘Leo said you wanted to race.’ Their mother’s tone was faintly admonishing.
‘Oh...so I did. That was foolish of me.’
‘Very, but we won’t talk about that now. You need to concentrate on getting better.’
‘I will.’ Lydia’s eyes focused on her again, their expression thoughtful. ‘Only I want to speak with Frances first.’
‘I don’t think...’
‘It’s all right, Mama, it’s nothing bad. Only it’s important.’
‘Oh, very well, but just for a few minutes, mind.’
Frances looked at her sister with trepidation as their parents moved towards the door and closed it softly behind them.
‘I’m sorry.’ Lydia’s voice was faint, but clear. So clear that Frances jerked backwards in surprise.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. I should never have gone out riding with Leo. I was trying to get back at you for taking Arthur. I wanted to make you feel bad. This serves me right.’
‘No, don’t say that.’
‘But it’s true...’ Lydia managed a tremulous smile ‘...and you know the worst part is that I never even liked Leo. He cares more about his appearance than I do, which is saying something.’
Frances pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. ‘He’s been worried about you. He called to see how you were.’
‘Well, I didn’t say he was a complete monster.’ Lydia gave a weak laugh and then sighed. ‘Just when I thought I could start living again, I had to do something stupid like this. Do I look so very bad?’
Frances shook her head. ‘You don’t look bad.’
‘But...my face?’
‘It’s bruised, but that’s all. You won’t have any scars, the doctor has already said so.’ She reached a hand to her sister’s cheek. ‘You’ll be just as beautiful as ever soon enough.’
‘Oh.’ Lydia’s dark eyes welled with tears. ‘I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I didn’t care so much about how I look and what people think.’
‘We all care a bit.’
‘But I’ve let it control me.’ Lydia sniffed and then lifted her chin up, her voice gradually gaining in strength. ‘I know I’ve been cruel to you in the past, but the truth is, I was jealous. You’ve always been so content in yourself. You never needed other people’s attention.’
‘It’s all right, Lydia.’
‘No, it’s not. I should have been kinder to you after your accident, but part of me was relieved that you weren’t so beautiful any more, that I wasn’t going to be replaced by my younger sister. I knew it was wicked at the time, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I hated myself for being so shallow, but somehow that only made it worse.’
‘You don’t have to hate yourself, Lydia. I know that things haven’t been easy for you either.’
‘Do you?’ Lydia gave a sob. ‘You know, everyone always said that I was the most beautiful girl in Whitby, that I’d make a great match. They said it so often that I never even stopped to think about whether I actually wanted it. I just went along with their expectations. John didn’t have a title, but he was still important and he was kind to me. I loved him in a way, but I was never in love with him. Then, after he died, I needed to prove that I was still the most beautiful, that I could make an even better marriage. It’s pathetic really, but I think that’s why I was so determined to catch Arthur. What I did, what I tried to do to him, was horrible.’
‘He’s already forgiven you.’ Frances drew in a fortifying breath. ‘But I’m sorry, too. I never meant to ruin things for the two of you.’
‘You didn’t. How could you ruin something that didn’t exist? Arthur wasn’t mine. He didn’t even want to see me. I thought he might still care for me, but...’
‘No, Lydia, I think perhaps he didn’t realise how he—’
‘Ahem.’ Their mother’s face appeared around the doorway again, looking faintly anxious. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Everything’s fine, Mama.’ Lydia smiled and beckoned her in. ‘Except for a pounding headache.’
‘Then that’s enough talking, although I’m glad to see my girls getting along again.’
‘Our girls...’ Their father followed their mother into the room and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘Frances, Arthur is downstairs. I’ve already told him the good news.’
‘Oh.’ She felt her heart leap and then plummet again almost instantly. It was a feeling that had become all too familiar over the past few days. Now that Lydia was awake, there was no avoiding the reason for it either. She had to confront him, had to call off their engagement so that he’d be free to reconcile with her sister instead. No doubt that was what Arthur wanted, too. She only hoped that she got to speak first so she might hold on to a few tattere
d shreds of her dignity.
As for Lydia... The plaintive way that she’d spoken, I thought he might still care for me, suggested that her feelings for Arthur ran deeper than she’d previously suspected. Was it possible that she might have underestimated her sister and that she truly did care for Arthur, after all? Because if that were the case, then she had no choice but to step aside.
She took a deep breath and stood up. Now that the time for confrontation had come, she wanted to put it off a while longer, to give herself a few minutes to gather her strength, but at least she knew she could do it. She’d survived her accident and Leo. She could survive this, too.
‘I just need to freshen up first. Papa, please could you tell him I’ll meet him on the beach in half an hour?’
* * *
Arthur stood on the shore, his black greatcoat billowing around his legs as he stared out to sea and waited for Frances. The weather had taken a distinct turn for the worse again. The towering waves were splashing spray all around him, white flecks that blew into his face like driving rain. The tide was coming in, too, a relentless force that surged back and forth, puddling around his boots. If he didn’t move soon, the salt would ruin the leather, but he found it hard to care. He only cared about what he had to do—and say.
He couldn’t marry her, couldn’t build the life of shared calm and contentment that he’d envisaged. It had all been a dream, one he’d let himself believe because he’d wanted it to be possible, but it wasn’t. Not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much, far too much to risk losing her the way Lance had almost lost Violet, the way she’d almost lost her own sister, too. He couldn’t bear to even contemplate the idea, which surely meant he wasn’t strong enough for marriage after all. Now that Lydia was out of danger, he had to tell Frances so and end their engagement. It would be painful, heartbreaking even, but it would save her from hurt in the long run. Hurting people—failing them—was what he did. First his mother, then Lance and his father... He’d failed each of them in turn. Frances would be better off without him. She might think him a villain after the intimacies they’d shared, but at least things hadn’t gone so far between them that they couldn’t turn back.
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