by Tessa Candle
They were all mobile, but her right shoulder hurt a great deal. There was gruel. She ate it all within a few moments and wished there were more.
Carefully she moved her legs to the bed's edge and sat up, resting part of her weight on each foot. They seemed normal. She stood and walked a few steps. Her head felt a little light and was aching. She felt bruised all over, but at least she was capable of walking.
She was wondering if she should try to escape or wait until she had healed up a bit more, when she heard movement outside the door. She hurried back into bed and feigned sleep.
Someone—two people, she thought—entered the room and were silent for a time.
“Is she sleeping?” It was Tilly's whispered voice.
Lydia restrained herself from calling out to her friend. Who was with her? She could not risk opening her eyes, for surely they were both looking at her, trying to ascertain if she were awake or not.
“I believe so.” It was Rutherford.
What were they doing here? Had they come to rescue her? Why else would they be here in the middle of the night? Her question was answered when she heard the strange sounds, and peeked through one eye to see the two of them embracing, kissing.
She should be embarrassed by the display. Tilly was an engaged woman. If she had feelings for Mr. Rutherford, she should end her engagement.
Or at least, that is what Lydia should think, but in her heart, she found herself surprisingly ambivalent about it. The situation was confusing and bizarre. Where was she, why were her friends behaving this way, and why did she find it enticing rather than shocking?
“Mm… darling, you are delicious.” Rutherford's voice was a breathless half-growl. “I need you. Relieve me from my torment and marry me.”
“You are rather tedious for someone who is so ravishing. We have already discussed this. I have no intention of breaking off my betrothal to Mr. DeGroen.”
“But what of us? You cannot tell me you feel nothing for me.”
“Oh I feel.” Tilly pressed her hips against his. “But unlike you, I am not romantic about marriage. Marriage is not concerned with love or passion: it is only a question of property and status. When Mr. DeGroen and I marry our fortunes, we shall be among the ten richest families in England. And what you and I do on the side will have no effect on that. We must only be discreet.”
“Discreet? You mean you expect me to sneak around like I have something to be ashamed of? My passion for you is undeniable, but my love for you is pure. I want you to be my wife, not my mistress.”
“I am sorry, then. But perhaps it would be better if we do not see more of each other. I do not want to cause you pain, but I am only looking for a mistress. Oh very well, a mister, if you will.”
There was a shocked silence for several moments. “You mean to say that you—your intentions are not honourable?”
“Not in the least. I assure you that they are quite as filthy as you can imagine—and perhaps filthier.”
This last comment was, apparently, more than Mr. Rutherford could bear. He began to undo Tilly's bodice, all the while guiding her to the small bed ordinarily used by Lydia's nurse.
He dropped his pantaloons and lowered her onto the surface. “Perhaps this will change your mind,” he said, as he hiked up her skirts and kissed his way down to her womanhood.
Tilly began to make little moans and gasps, as he ministered to her in this strange way. Lydia knew that this was not something she should be watching, but she could not stop.
Her own body responded to the movements of the two lovers. When Mr. Rutherford finally emerged, positioning himself over Tilly, and thrusting himself into her, Lydia could scarcely restrain herself from moaning along with her friend.
Tilly and Rutherford were clearly trying to be quiet, but could not help making such sensual noises that Lydia was in no doubt about their mutual enjoyment, until, at their climax they both stifled vocal exclamations.
If this is what married couples did, Lydia had been missing out. And perhaps unnecessarily, too, for if it were as simple as Tilly made it sound, she need not even be married.
She waited until Rutherford sneaked out of the room, and then spoke up. “Right, Tilly. I do not know where I am, or why you are here, but you simply must teach me how to do that.”
Tilly sat up. “Lydia! Oh thank God you are awake. The doctor said you might never—but never mind that.” She rushed to her bedside. “You cannot know how worried I was.”
“Well, not so worried as to prevent you from taking advantage of my unconscious state.”
“Ah that. I am sorry, my dear friend. We did not think we should be disturbing you.”
“Well I am disturbed—disturbed that my education has been carefully crafted to omit any real understanding of carnal knowledge, in order to instil a notion of virtue which is apparently entirely fictional. As you have proven yourself utterly shameless, you must teach me.”
“And I shall.” She smoothed Lydia's hair. “I shall only be too happy to corrupt you thoroughly, as soon as you are better. Only for now, you must not over-tax yourself.”
“Fine. I am a little sleepy. But before I drift off, tell me where we are. Did you rescue me?”
“Rescue you?”
“From Lord Aldley, when he abducted me.”
“Abducted? He did not really abduct you. You got into his carriage and went with him willingly when he gave chase to his mother. His mother was abducted.”
“No, he abducted me,” Lydia squinted at her friend's stupidity, “and Rutherford came to save me, only he was injured—though apparently not as badly as I had thought.”
Tilly pursed her lips. “He is quite recovered enough for a little light exercise.”
Tilly examined Lydia's face for a moment. “But you are confused, dearest. It was not Aldley who abducted you. Delacroix abducted you some time ago, and Rutherford did come to rescue you, and both of them ended up injured.
Lydia tilted her head.
Tilly pressed on, “Do you not remember making that contraption to haul Rutherford behind his horse? Then we met you at the main road. And we had to make up a story, and go call on Lord Delacroix on the pretence of checking on his convalescent brother. Surely you remember that.”
Lydia's brows knit together. What her friend was saying did make a sort of sense to her, but she could not help persisting in the belief that it was Lord Aldley who had abducted her. She shook her head. “I do not know.”
“Do you recall the night of Lady Aldley's ball?”
“I believe so. I wore a white dress.”
“And do you recall that Miss Delacroix spilled wine on you.”
“Yes, that is right! And she arranged to have me abducted by her brother, only it was Aldley in the carriage. He abducted me instead.”
A look of profound worry crossed Tilly's face, as Lydia's eyes drooped. “My dear friend, you need to rest. We can talk of this more in the morning. Only know that I am here and I shall not let anything bad happen to you. You are quite safe.” She stroked a stray lock of hair off of Lydia's face.
Lydia wondered, as she drifted off, if Lord Aldley had done things to her like Rutherford had done to Tilly.
Chapter 50
When Aldley entered the room they all used as a breakfast parlour, Tilly was already seated, drinking a cup of tea, her brow furrowed. She stood as he entered and they greeted one another.
“Good morning, my lord. I am glad I shall get a few moments to speak to your lordship alone.” Her face looked very troubled.
“Good morning, Miss Ravelsham.” Aldley sat down across the table from her. “Is there something the matter?”
“Indeed there is. Lydia awoke in the night, and we spoke.” She sipped her tea pensively.
“But that is wonderful!” Aldley was elated. “She is recovering. Thank God.”
Tilly nodded. “Yes, of course, it is wonderful. Only she is very confused.”
Aldley waved his hand. “The doctor said that was to
be expected at first.”
“Only the thing she is principally confused about seems to be you, my lord.”
“Me?” Aldley leapt from his chair. “What did she say?”
“Put succinctly, she believes your lordship abducted her.”
“What?! Oh no.” Aldley's face collapsed and he sat down again. This was a catastrophe upon a catastrophe.
“Yes.” Tilly continued, earnestly munching on a biscuit. “She seems to be confusing events on the evening of the ball with the occasion when Delacroix attempted to make off with her.”
“So she thinks me a villain.” His shoulders slumped. “Just when I thought things could not get worse.”
Tilly sighed. “I do not want to worry you unduly, my lord. We may still persuade her of the truth. Only, I thought you should be prepared for the fact that you cannot see her yet, my lord.”
“Cannot see her? But I must. I have to clear this matter up. She must know I have not done this horrid thing. I have to propose to her, as I should have done ages ago.”
“I understand your feelings, my lord.” Tilly fidgeted with the table cloth. “But imagine how much worse it might make things if your lordship were to force his presence upon her while she is still afraid.”
Aldley's jaw dropped open for a moment. “Did she say she was afraid of me?”
“It was clear from her demeanour. In fact, she asked me if I had come to rescue her. She seems to have thought that she was still in captivity.” Tilly's eyes were full of compassion for Aldley's situation.
“I hope you corrected her view of things.”
“I did, and then she fell asleep. It is hard to be certain whether or not she accepted my version of history.”
Aldley stood again and began to pace the creaking floor boards. “You cannot understand how it plagues me that I have let things go as far as they have already without making her an offer of marriage. And that she has come to harm under my care—it is an endless source of torment.”
“I can imagine it, truly, my lord.” Tilly frowned. “I, too, have been pondering what I should have done differently.”
“What could you have done?” Aldley thought that she must be merely trying to commiserate.
Tilly shook her head. “I only mean that such thoughts are common when someone you care about is injured. But in my view, we must all put aside our personal feelings and focus our efforts on helping Lydia.”
“What do you propose?”
“When Mrs. Norwood arrives this afternoon, she, Mr. Norwood and myself should speak with Lydia, to tell her what really happened. If she hears it from the people closest to her, she may eventually get things straight in her mind. But until then...” Her face was resolute.
“I know you are right, Miss Ravelsham. It does not make the prospect any easier. I cannot stand to think that the woman I most love in the world is lying under the same roof as me, believing that I abducted her.”
“If that is what she says happened, I am inclined to believe my daughter.” Mr. Norwood had heard them from the hall. His lips were pressed in a hard line.
Aldley passed a hand over his troubled face. “Mr. Norwood, I know you have reason to question my judgement, given recent events, but surely you do not question my character, my intentions.”
Mr. Norwood thought for a few moments. “Perhaps not. But I am also unwilling to question my daughter's word.” He made for the door to Lydia's chamber.
“Wait. She is sleeping again.” Tilly rushed to him and put her hand on his arm. “And if you heard her speak of it, you would know her mind is befuddled. She is confusing Delacroix's attempt to abduct her with the night of the Aldley ball. The doctor told us some disorder of the mind is to be expected.”
“Aye.” Mr. Norwood sighed, and diverted his course to the parlour window, where he stared out for some time, before continuing, “But as you have spoken with her, Miss Ravelsham, I assume that means she is spending more time awake.”
“We spoke for several minutes last night, but she could not stay awake longer. However, it is a very good sign.” Tilly smiled encouragingly.
“Yes. We must all rejoice for it. It will be a relief to give Mrs. Norwood some good news when she arrives.” Aldley was, in fact, relieved, for he envisioned an even frostier greeting from Lydia's mother than he had received from her father.
“Indeed. My poor wife must be beside herself.” Mr. Norwood sat down at the table.
Just then Rutherford entered. “Good morning. I see I am the last up.”
“Did you sleep well?” There was not a hint of innuendo in Tilly's voice.
Aldley had some idea of how things might be between them, and decided to interrupt lest they give themselves away before Mr. Norwood. “Rutherford, we have had some good news. Miss Norwood has awakened in the night again.”
“Ah, really?” Rutherford was less the master of his face than was Miss Ravelsham, and Aldley could see some small disturbance before he recovered himself. “Well, that is wonderful news!” Rutherford turned to Tilly. “Did you speak to her, then?”
“Yes, for some minutes.” Tilly smiled. “Then she fell asleep again. It seems that she is recovering, only she is a bit confused about events leading up to her injuries.”
“That is to be expected. But she will make progress. True, this is excellent news… but why does everyone look so serious?” Rutherford looked with bewilderment around the room.
It was Miss Ravelsham who informed him of the trouble with Lydia's mind. And her face betrayed no inkling of her involvement with Rutherford, so much so that Aldley began to doubt what he thought he had seen on Rutherford's face earlier.
For surely if there had been some further dalliance between the two, the maid's cheeks would be the first to flush. And yet her countenance betrayed only concern for her friend and determination to see her well again.
After a few moments of silence, Mr. Norwood stood up. “The nurse will be here soon. I shall go check on my daughter.”
How Aldley longed to be the one who looked in on Lydia.
Nemesis was punishing him for taking too long in declaring his feelings. He had been so assured that he had all the time in the world, that it only required his deciding to marry her for the matter to be decided. How he now suffered for his arrogance.
He needed her. There had to be a way to clear Lydia's mind and make her his wife.
Chapter 51
This time when Lydia opened her eyes it was light out. The heavy rust-coloured curtains were half drawn, but a ray of sunlight crept in to illuminate her mother's face, and reveal the dark circles under her eyes.
Both her parents were seated near her bed. She was confused, for she was still in the same place. Surely they would have removed her. Was she too injured to be moved? Her head, at least, felt better.
“Mama, Papa, you are here!” Lydia was relieved, even if puzzled, to see them.
“Oh thank the heavens!” Her mother was at her side immediately, pressing a kiss to Lydia's cheek, before her father pulled her back.
“We must not crush her, my dear. Remember she is still delicate.”
Her mother's laugh extended to her misty eyes. “Of course, I was carried away by my feelings. But if there is one thing our daughter has never been, it is delicate.”
“That is true.” He laughed. “Lydia, my dearest girl, we are so relieved that you are awake. How are you feeling?”
“I am glad to see you both, and my headache is gone.” She put a hand to her empty stomach. “But I am very hungry.”
They had soft food brought in on a tray immediately. Lydia began to eat, somewhat inelegantly. Her mother did not even register this with a turned cheek, but sat smiling happily.
When Lydia had eaten most of her meal, she continued, “But where is this place and why am I still here?”
Her father replied, “We are in an inn, some place north-west of London—or just outside of God knows where, as Miss Ravelsham calls it.”
“So beyond the rea
ch of grace, then.” Lydia's smile cracked her dry lips.
“Precisely.” He grinned. “But we could not remove you back to civilization, for the doctor said you were not to be moved or even awakened.”
“But Lord Aldley says a special doctor from London shall arrive soon.” Lydia's mother looked hopeful.
“Aldley? Is he here?” Lydia felt the panic rise in her. Why was everyone acting as though Aldley were not an abducting fiend?
“Yes.” Lydia's father gave his wife a withering look. “But he is not the danger that you think he is. He knows what you think of him and has agreed not to come to you unless you ask for him.” Her father put a reassuring hand on her arm.
“That is not likely. I hope never to lay eyes on him again. He is an abductor.” It wasn't entirely true, for even as she feared this man who had abducted her, her body warmed at the thought of him.
She had memories of his scent. A secret little part of her wished he might sneak into her chamber at night to have his way with her. It was hardly something Lydia wished to admit to herself, however, much less mention in front of her parents.
“He did not abduct you.” Mrs. Norwood ignored the warning look from her husband
“But he did, you were not there. Miss Delacroix arranged the whole thing.” Lydia could not comprehend why no one believed her.
“Miss Delacroix?” Her mother was incredulous. “That little minx tried everything to get an introduction to the earl, and as I have been informed, threw herself in his path. Do you really believe that when she finally got an invitation to the Aldley ball, she spent her time contriving that someone else would be compromised by him?”
Lydia had never heard her mother speak as directly or honestly about disliking a member of their acquaintance. Though, when she thought it over, there was one other person her mother had berated, but at the moment Lydia could not remember whom.
Still, it was unusual to hear her mother speak so plainly. Her mother's logic was sound. Lydia knew, better than her mother did, just how ruthless Miss Delacroix was in her pursuit of the earl. There was simply no reason for the scheming little witch to arrange Aldley's abduction of anyone other than herself.