‘You’ll manage—we’ll manage. We can take on another pair of hands if necessary, which may not be a bad thing anyway the way the orders are coming in. But whatever you decide to do I will help in any way I can—you know that. But one thing I will say is that Mr Golding has a right to know about his child. You have to tell him.’
‘I know,’ Lydia said miserably. ‘And my father. He will be so disappointed in me when he knows about my condition.’
‘From what I have seen of your father and what you have told me about his years in Australia, I think he will understand. And don’t cry,’ she said when she saw Lydia trying hard to stem the tide of tears. ‘It will do you no good and will only make you feel ill. You must be brave if you are to overcome this ordeal.’
* * *
Emily was right about Lydia’s father. He called that same day and, over tea in her office, she told him about her relationship first with Henry Seymour and then with Alex Golding. It was a different matter entirely from telling Emily, for she found it difficult discussing such intimate matters with her father.
For a moment she hesitated, but her father’s fading eyes regarded her with such a spontaneous sympathy that, lowering her gaze, in quick, broken sentences, she told him her story. She grew calmer as she talked, telling him how Henry had almost duped her into a bigamous marriage, of how Alex arrived in time to stop the ceremony. Finally, she told him of her relationship with Alex and that she was to bear his child. She held nothing back.
Seated on the sofa, he listened quietly, attentively, stirring restlessly more than once, and when she had finished he thought over what she had said.
Waiting for him to speak, anxious about what his reaction would be to what she had told him, with her chair drawn up close to him, Lydia watched him. Of late, he appeared to be more relaxed, but he was still frail and the haunted look had not left his eyes. Tears sprang to her own when she realised how disappointed he must be in her.
‘You—you do not judge me too harshly, I hope,’ she said quietly, having expected anger, instead of which there was a sigh and a faint, sardonic smile. Leaning forwards, he patted her hand as it lay on her lap and sighed deeply.
‘I have not the right to judge you, Lydia. I forfeited that when I left you.’
‘You are not shocked?’
‘Indeed I am. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t.’
‘I’m sorry. I know how disappointed you must be,’ she said forlornly, looking down at her hands. ‘I’ve brought disgrace on myself.’
Her father smiled at her gently. ‘Nonsense, my dear. Sometimes a person cannot help the things that happen to them. They are just the victim of circumstance.’
‘Or Alex Golding,’ Lydia murmured.
‘Or Alex Golding. I am glad you did not try to keep this from me. I do not blame you, Lydia. You merely followed your heart. I should have stayed to watch over you, to take care of you, instead of leaving you like I did.’ Lydia knew his sorrow and regret over what he had done was genuinely felt. ‘I will not speak one word of blame—not to you or Alex Golding.’
‘Thank you. I am in this predicament because of my own foolishness. I—I compromised myself when I agreed to—to...’
He touched her arm in an affectionate, comforting gesture. ‘Enough. What is done is done. What we have to do now is consider the future. He does not know of your condition?’
‘No.’
‘And yet he proposed marriage to you. He must want to marry you very much. What I do not understand is why you refused his proposal.’
Lydia sighed, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. ‘Believe me, I was tempted. I found it difficult saying no. But his world—Oh!’ she cried, standing up and pacing the floor in frustration. ‘It is so very different from mine. He is wealthy, with friends in high places, a grand house in Belgrave Square and a country house in Berkshire. I could never live up to what would be expected of me. Besides, it is certain that his sister would discover my association with her husband. It would be awkward for all concerned. Alex and Miranda are very close. Something like this would be sure to drive a wedge between them. I could not bear to do that to them.’
‘And this Miss...Hilton, I believe you said her name was. She warned you off Mr Golding. Does that trouble you?’
‘No, not really—although she made it brutally plain that she wants him for herself. When I went to see Alex, she overheard our conversation—everything. If I continue to see him she will tell all to Miranda—who is also with child. Knowing this awful thing about her husband and her brother would distress her immensely. Unfortunately for Irene Hilton, Alex does not reciprocate her feelings. As for me—well, I have my business to think of. I have struggled so hard to get to where I am now. I cannot give it up for...’ She fell silent and sighed, shaking her head with dejection.
‘For a child,’ her father finished calmly.
‘Yes—something like that. But I know I can’t possibly continue with my work with a child to care for.’
‘Why not? Your mother managed it.’
She stopped pacing and smiled down at him. ‘Yes—yes, she did—despite all the hardships.’
‘There you are then. And you are not alone. You have a good friend in Emily and you can rely on me to help you all I can. You can take on someone to help in the shop when necessary. I am sure that when Mr Golding learns of your condition he will want to marry you all the more.’ Seeing doubt cloud his daughter’s eyes before she turned away, he felt a moment of alarm. ‘You are going to tell him, Lydia?’
She nodded and turned back to him. ‘Yes—yes, I will,’ she said softly. ‘It wouldn’t be right not to.’
‘Good. Would you like me to be there when you do?’
‘No—that will not be necessary. I will write to him at his house in Belgrave Square. I can’t imagine how he will react. We did not part the best of friends. I will not marry him, though. I—I cannot. That, I am sure of.’
* * *
Three weeks had passed and Alex was still feeling dejected after his bitter parting from Lydia. He sought David’s company at his club and often David would call at the house with his sister almost always accompanying him. He had an aversion to Irene and he only put up with her for David’s sake. There was a time when he had enjoyed her company, her low, throaty laugh and her enjoyment of life. But she lacked the things he had come to appreciate. Her eyes weren’t that wonderful shade of green, her hair was not shining black and she didn’t stir the emotions and desires only one woman could stir in him.
She wasn’t Lydia.
He busied himself with his business affairs, he even drank more than he normally would to dull the ache, the void, Lydia’s absence had left inside him. He remembered how warm and loving she had been and how she had kissed him and caressed him with such tender passion. He couldn’t believe that the time had come when his resolve not to become entrapped by a woman had given way to such a battle against his own desire.
Impatient to get out of London where he was constantly reminded of Lydia, he was about to leave for Aspen Grange when David arrived. His baggage was being carried out to the carriage. David found him in his study, sorting through some papers and packing them into a leather case.
The two men were as close as friends could be and as different as night and day. David, with his ash-blond hair and deep blue eyes, was well liked, good-natured and easy going, but he lacked the aura of authority and power that always surrounded Alex.
‘I heard you were deserting us for the country, Alex.’
‘I have things to take care of. I’ve neglected things at Aspen of late. I can take care of my business interests from there.’
‘How long do you expect to be away?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘And the delightful Miranda? Is your sister no longer with you?’
Alex shook his head. ‘She’s gone
home to Surrey—and Henry. She thought he’d been punished enough. I can only hope that with a child on the way he’ll mend his ways.’ He looked at his friend. ‘If you have any plans to go to Berkshire, come and see me at Aspen. We can do a spot of fishing.’
‘I might take you up on that.’ David turned to look back into the hall. His sister had followed him in and had stopped to speak to the housekeeper. ‘Irene is put out that you are leaving town. You know how much she likes your company. She attaches herself to you like a shadow. You’ll not shake her off until you find someone else.’
David sensed that Alex was definitely not himself and he suspected the cause was something to do with the young woman Miranda had told him about. ‘Speaking of which,’ he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, ‘when I last saw Miranda she hinted that there just might be a young lady in the offing.’
‘Miranda always did let her tongue run away with her.’
‘At the risk of intruding into your thoughts, Alex, might I ask why you are wearing such a formidable frown? Could it be that not everything is going well in that particular department and the young lady is preying too much on your mind?’
‘I seldom think of her—if it can be avoided.’ Which was true—but impossible. It seemed that whenever Alex thought of Lydia his thoughts became angrily chaotic. She was like some dancing, irrepressible shadow embedded in his mind.
David gave him a laughing, sidelong look. ‘So you would have me believe. But I imagine you think of her more than you care to admit. Didn’t you help her start up her enterprise or something of the sort?’
‘I loaned her some money—which she returned shortly after. Apparently, her estranged father came forward to invest in her enterprise. I suppose I could have dealt with the matter in a more gentlemanly manner. I must admit that I’ve been unfair to her.’
David quirked a brow, his blue eyes twinkling with light mockery. ‘What’s this? Are you becoming sentimental in your old age?’
‘I am never sentimental,’ Alex replied shortly. ‘But for the life of me I can’t understand why she turned my money down in favour of her father’s.’
David regarded his friend with mild cynicism. ‘Can’t you? Think about it, Alex. For the first time in your life it would appear you have met a woman who is no scheming fortune hunter. From what Miranda has told me she is not a brainless simpering miss but a proud, respectable working girl who has just achieved her heart’s desire—to own her own business.’ He grinned. ‘It puts me in mind of you, Alex, when you were starting out. Remember? Perhaps Miss Brook doesn’t want to drink the finest champagne and wear expensive jewels.’
‘You’re right, David. She left me in no doubt that she wasn’t interested in any of that.’
‘You mean you discussed it with her? Good Lord, Alex! Did you ask Miss Brook to marry you by any chance?’ Alex threw him a black look and said nothing as he opened a drawer in his desk and took out more important-looking papers. David’s amusement could not be restrained and he laughed out loud. ‘You did, didn’t you, you old rascal? And she rejected you? I must say, I would like to meet your Miss Brook.’
‘She is not my Miss Brook.’
‘She soon could be. Will you see her again so you can introduce me?’
‘I very much doubt it. We didn’t exactly part the best of friends.’
‘Methinks Miss Brook gave as good as she got. Am I right?’ Alex merely threw him another thunderous look and continued packing papers into a case. Becoming more intrigued about Miss Brook, David said, ‘Perhaps you should write to her and apologise for your behaviour. If you were hard on her—if you tried to be more understanding—you might find her more amenable. Try a softer approach. Smooth her feathers and you’ll soon have her purring like a kitten.’
Alex stopped what he was doing and looked at his friend as though he’d taken leave of his senses. ‘God in heaven, David! There is nothing docile about her. Lydia Brook is twenty years old and has proved to be the biggest distraction I have ever known in my life. Try a soft approach, you suggest! Impossible! We are at an impasse.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we see things differently. We come from completely different directions. It makes everything complicated—difficult. We are ill matched.’
‘Difficulties can be surmounted.’
‘Not this time. She rejected my offer of marriage. I will not give her a second chance.’
Stupefied, David stared at him, still thoroughly amused. It was unbelievable that Alex, who always had absolute control over his emotions, who treated women with a combination of indifference, relaxed tolerance and indulgence, could have been driven to such an uncharacteristic outburst of feelings by a twenty-year-old girl.
Fastening the straps on his leather case, Alex picked it up and strode into the hall where Harris, his secretary, was waiting. David followed.
‘Have any correspondence sent on to Aspen, will you, Albert,’ he said to his butler. He looked at David. ‘If you take me up on my offer for a spot of fishing, David, perhaps you would be good enough to call here first. There might be correspondence you can bring with you.’
‘Of course. I’d be glad to.’
‘Does the invite to Aspen Grange extend to me, too, Alex?’ Irene asked, sidling forward.
‘Of course it does. Although I feel I must warn you that you may end up feeling neglected and become bored with us—unless you like fishing.’
‘Not really, but I suppose I could learn—with the right teacher.’
Alex merely smiled. Irene might be charming and pleasing to the eye, but she was greedy and ambitious, and too much like his deceased wife for him to take their relationship further than friendship.
* * *
Feeling a little better now that she had shared her secret and some of her anguish with her father and Emily, Lydia managed to get a decent night’s sleep. She awoke the following morning, feeling refreshed.
Although she was quaking inside, she sat down to write to Alex. It was the most difficult letter she had ever had to write. Once it was sent, all she had to do was wait for his reply. She knew she somehow had to get through this unpleasant time—and the thousands of other times over the days and weeks and years when, because of her moral transgression and the unfortunate predicament she found herself in as a result of that transgression, she would have to suffer severe censure and ridicule if he did not marry her.
Then began the wait for Alex’s reply to her letter.
She would have been outraged if she knew how it had fallen into the wrong hands. Calling at Alex’s house in Belgrave Square before going on to Berkshire, David had collected what correspondence there was. Setting it aside while he dealt with other matters, he did not see Irene thumb through it and see how her eyes narrowed when she saw a letter addressed to Alex in a familiar hand. It was the same neat, sloping writing she had seen in Lydia Brook’s ledger. A frisson of anger shot through her. When her brother’s eyes were averted, she slipped it inside her reticule, closed it and let out a long breath. She would take it out and read its contents when she was alone.
* * *
Lydia immersed herself in her work, grateful to have something to keep her busy. She was certain Alex would contact her in some way. Would he write back or would he come to see her? He didn’t come the next day, nor the next, and after a week had gone by and then another, a terrible fear gripped her and it was all she could do to conceal it from everyone, but Emily watched her closely and tried to take some of the workload from her. Her father called on her every day when the shop was closed. Unable to hide his concern, he offered to call on Alex, to speak to him on her behalf, but Lydia didn’t want to involve him.
* * *
As more time went by, she was determined not to give in to her fear, telling herself that she must be patient, that she must have faith in Alex, that he would come soon. And so she continued to
immerse herself in her work with a cool demeanour that belied the anguish roiling inside her, unable to understand why he had not come. She was glad she had a heavy work schedule because she wanted to keep busy. But she wasn’t sleeping well and she grew pale. She knew men took advantage of foolish, inexperienced young women, that when they had got what they wanted they walked away without any remorse. But Alex wasn’t like that. He had asked her to marry him. This fact alone kept her hope alive.
* * *
Five weeks passed and Alex had made no attempt to see her or contact her. Every time the shop door opened, her heart would leap with anticipation. He could not have known how deeply he had insinuated himself into her heart, how much he had come to mean to her, to be someone she held dear and whose absence had become a source of grief.
She could see Emily and the girls she employed watching her, and it seemed to her that she read some pity in their eyes. But at that moment in her life, pity was one thing she could not endure. And so she lifted her chin, took herself in hand and forced herself to smile and to laugh, no matter what, as long as it hid her feelings. Alex wasn’t coming, so she resolved to get on with her life without him. She told herself that she didn’t need him.
* * *
A note was delivered to the shop by hand from Lady Seymour, informing Lydia that she was back in town and staying at her brother’s house in Belgrave Square and she would be grateful if Lydia would call and measure her up for some new gowns. She explained in her letter that she was putting on weight at a tremendous rate with her pregnancy and she needed some new gowns to see her through. She added that she should have thought about it sooner, but she had been at home in Surrey for the past weeks. Henry had to come to London so she had decided to accompany him.
The unexpected request threw Lydia into a quandary.
‘What should I do, Emily?’ she asked in desperation. ‘When I left Alex’s house I honestly thought my association with that family was over—and yet here I am in a predicament I would not have chosen. Being asked to make some gowns for his sister is the last thing I want.’
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