by Tessa Candle
“But what about the carriage? And why did she spill her wine on me, then?”
Her parents did not know what Lydia was talking about, but they patiently described the events surrounding Delacroix's attempt at abducting her.
“Do you not remember that, now?” Her father squeezed her hand.
“Yes, Papa. What you are saying is familiar. And it was all Delacroix, you say?”
“Certainly. The night of the ball, you got into the carriage with Aldley, voluntarily. Just when he had finally located you, someone made off with his mother in another carriage. You both leapt into his carriage and pursued them as fast as you could. Hence the accident. And although I should not mind laying a whipping on the earl for taking such risks with you, I believe his intentions were honourable.”
“Yes, that is just what Tilly said. So why do I remember him threatening me with a knife, and trying to… take liberties.” She hoped her more salacious thoughts on the topic did not register on her face.
“Do you not think that you are confused from your head injury?” Her mother took her hand. “For it sounds as though you are muddling up the two events.”
“Perhaps.” There might be something in what they were saying, for she also had a memory of Lord Aldley forbidding her from starting her business, as if he had the right. She had thought, at the time, that it was the end of things.
Such thoughts, and in fact the entire conversation, would be completely absurd if conducted while Aldley attempted to rape her at knife-point. “And I suppose Lord Aldley did not really have a motive to abduct me, did he?”
“No, indeed. Both your mother and I had made it quite clear that we approved of his courting you. And, although I am not happy with you for it, it appears that you told him of the downturn in our fortunes. I can think of no other motive for his interest than love, and no impediment to his marrying you more expeditiously by special license than by abduction. In fact, from everything we have seen of his character, it defies credulity that he would attempt any such compromise. Do you not remember how he purchased Ari so that he could leave the horse in your care?”
“Yes. I do remember.” Lydia began to be convinced that she had been confused, that Aldley was perhaps not perfect, but he was kind, and certainly not the monster she was recollecting him to be.
“I think you are right. I must be confusing things.” She sighed. “It is very hard to be in doubt of one's own senses. If you do not mind, I need to speak with Tilly. Is she is still near?”
“Of course. We shall send her in.” Lydia's father kissed her cheek lightly, followed by her mother.
When Tilly arrived, she could not restrain her joy. “I see you have eaten. It is marvellous to see you so well. Let me pour you some more barley water.”
“Thank you.” Lydia accepted the cup and drained it. “My dear friend, I believe my mind is playing tricks on me. I need to get my thoughts in order. Will you relate to me, in as much detail as you remember, everything from the day of the ball?”
Tilly complied, also filling in the details of her conference with Miss Grey and discovery of Miss Delacroix's plot to impersonate Lydia, culminating in Miss Delacroix's rolling off in the wrong carriage, locked into a lengthy trip with the boorish Lord Essington.
Lydia laughed with cold, vindictive glee at the fate she supposed Miss Delacroix to have suffered. “Yes, I remember that now. So she got her comeuppance. I suppose I shall require no further vengeance.”
“Your being happy with the earl will be the best revenge.” Tilly's smirking mouth seemed the wrong messenger for such pious advice.
“As to that, I am not certain we shall suit.”
Tilly sighed. “But surely you no longer believe he abducted you?”
“No. I cannot help feeling some fear, still, but my reason is persuaded that you all have the right of it. I am sure that my nerves will calm themselves with time. My body is another matter. And now that I know of your own conduct with Mr. Rutherford...”
Tilly lifted an amused eyebrow, but did not so much as blush.
Lydia licked her lips. “I do not mind admitting to you that I should not object if Lord Aldley tried to ravish me now. However, he has expressed some views which make me believe him highly unsuitable as a husband.”
Tilly looked amused. “Such as?”
“He forbade me from starting the hair pomade business.” Lydia crossed her arms.
“You told him about that?” Tilly wrinkled her nose in disapproval.
“In general terms, not specifics. When we were in the carriage together, I foolishly decided that it would be better to tell him everything he did not know that might change his mind about me.” Lydia could no longer understand why she had thought that necessary at the time.
“Well, I can tell you that his mind is not changed. His heart is yours. He is chastened by the experience of almost losing you, and then having your mind so effected that you thought him an abductor. The man is quite beside himself. You could probably make any condition you wish before accepting him.” Tilly's face betrayed a deep sympathy for the earl.
“Well, if it is as you say, then there is some hope.” Lydia sighed a little bewildered sigh. “I am sorry he is suffering. It is very odd. I think I loved Lord Aldley, before. And before the accident I already wanted to experience congress with Lord Aldley. I did not know quite how that was to come about, however.”
She paused to think. “And although I have had recent reservations about his character, I longed for him more than ever. Since the accident I feel much more free to pursue my physical inclinations. I only wish they could awaken my feelings again, for my heart is a little befuddled.”
“Oh dear. Well, it may be a consequence of the blow to the head.” Tilly laughed. “But be careful, my dear, or you will turn into me.”
“And whatever would be wrong with that? You are beautiful, brilliant and rich. You live your life in freedom without shame, and apparently without any shade upon your reputation. I should very much like to turn into you—except that I should be better at riding horses and climbing trees.”
“Climbing trees?”
“Yes.” Lydia shrugged in surrender. “I suppose there is little point in hiding that from you any longer, seeing as we now share much more scandalous secrets about one another.”
“Well, actually I had already heard a rumour about that particular oddity.” Tilly tilted her head equanimously.
“Really?” Lydia feigned a look of shock. “And you did not sever all ties with me? I am most grateful.”
“Think nothing of it.” Tilly pressed her fingertips together to form a saintly steeple. “It makes you slightly more interesting. And, as you say, climbing trees pales by comparison to our other secrets. I have no pretences in that direction, or about equestrianism, but I believe I may lay claim to being better at gathering useful resources around me.”
“Very true. Some day you will have to tell me all about that.” Lydia hoped it would be soon, for she was extremely curious about Tilly's mysterious side.
“I believe I shall. Some day. But at the moment we have more important things to discuss.”
Tilly always said things like this, Lydia remarked. Even if it happened to always be true, it was suspiciously evasive. Lydia sat up straight. “Indeed we do. I want to start building my business as soon as might be, assuming Miss Grey will agree to it.”
“I think she will. We shall have to arrange a meeting when we return to London. You will find you have a great deal more freedom, once you are an engaged woman.”
“Assuming I am engaged. And assuming the man I am engaged to does not try to constrain me.” Lydia shifted her right arm to a more comfortable position.
“You will find him very pliable, I am sure. Indeed, the man is smitten and truly contrite.”
“If that be the case, I think I shall have him. It is an excellent match, after all.” Lydia smiled wickedly.
“I do not believe I have ever heard you speak of excellent mat
ches before.”
“Yes, but I see things more clearly now. I am altered, and I am not so disinterested as I once was.” Lydia was thoughtful. “I do not mean I am now hungry to become a countess or secure his fortune. But I can see now that marrying him will have its advantages. Is that so very bad?”
“You are asking a fallen woman,” Tilly reminded her. “However, although I should never think you mercenary for taking the material prospects of your suitor into consideration, I do not think your heart is as disinterested as you make it appear.”
“Perhaps,” Lydia shifted uncomfortably, “but I am having difficulty discerning what my heart might say from my immense attraction to him. Even had I decided not to accept him, I think I should have tried to have him as a—well a mister, in the way that you have Mr. Rutherford.”
“Recollect that an engaged woman is in a different position from an unengaged woman.” Tilly laughed. “I knew I should one day corrupt you, but I had no idea of the extent, or that it should take such a direction. Or, for that matter, that the mode of the corruption would be voyeurism.”
“I do not think I shall allow you all the credit. And do you like me better now that you have discovered my vice?”
Tilly cocked her head. “I am not sure. I believe I should find it more diverting if I did not harbour the suspicion that it proceeds from your illness.”
“It does not.” Lydia thought for a few moments. “I can only attribute to the accident a certain sense of liberty. It is natural that one should come to a few new realisations after a series of near-disasters, is it not?”
Tilly nodded thoughtfully.
Lydia now knew that life gave you what you were willing to squeeze out of it. One simply could not be too squeamish about the means one used to beat away the obstacles to happiness.
She snorted. “If I should have to deal with another Miss Delacroix, henceforth, I should knock her down, and lock myself in the back room with Lord Aldley.
“Well then,” Tilly laughingly conceded. “If I may give you some very prudent advice, I suggest that you try to conceal these internal urges. If you decide to act upon them, be wily. Let Lord Aldley believe he is seducing you.”
“I think I shall have to, as I do not at all know what I am doing.”
“That is best. He has an over exaggerated sense of propriety, but he is mad for you.” Tilly smirked. “I doubt he will be able to resist temptation.”
Lydia recollected the earl's strong shoulders and sweet maddening scent. She swallowed. “I am not certain I shall be able to, either.”
“These feelings you have are quite natural, but you must keep them concealed. Hypocrisy is an indispensable tool.”
Lydia smiled. It was not the first time she had heard Tilly say as much. Experience told her that her friend was quite right.
She would be discreet. But she needed to explore carnal knowledge with Thomas. She hoped it would help her to understand her heart, for she could remember being in love with him. In truth, no matter how altered she was, she wanted to get those feelings back.
“Let me change the subject. I have something to show you.” Tilly walked to a small table near the window and retrieved a stack of papers. “Here are some sketches of a piece of property that has come available in London.” She handed them over.
“You mean as a shop front?” Lydia gazed with some scepticism at the sketches of a dowdy looking building.
“My brother found it. At the moment it is not much to look at. But the structure is sound, I am assured, and there are good back rooms where the product could be mixed and jarred.”
“But I do not think this looks like a place that would appeal to the customers we are hoping to attract.”
“But look at these.” Tilly handed over some more pictures. “Frederick drew them.”
“I had no idea your brother was so accomplished.” Lydia was impressed with the beautiful drawings and the fine detail.
“Indeed, he is—though I admit as a doting sister, I might be a little biased. But you can see he has contrived to expand the windows, and to create interest with a colourful, but tasteful façade.”
“I am beguiled. But will it not cost a great deal to make these alterations?” She still had a lot of money concerns to work out.
“It will. And there will be improvements needed in the inner space as well. However, I see this as the next step. You will have already sold many pots of pomade by the time you start work on the shop.”
“You have put a great deal of planning into this venture, I almost feel I should hand the entire thing over to you.”
“Not at all. The idea was yours, and it was a good one. I have my own projects to attend to.” Tilly chortled happily. “Now that we are sharing our mutual shames, I do not mind telling you that I love business. Of course I conduct mine discreetly, as I suggest you also do.
“Still I feel you have done a great deal.” Lydia twisted the fabric of the bed sheet. “And we do not even know that Miss Grey will accept my offer.”
Tilly shrugged. “If there were no risk, it would not be as exciting. I am sure the property will go up in value soon, for it is just outside of Knight's Bridge, but has been passed over and forgotten. Even if you merely hold it for a year and sell it, you will make money. But as for Miss Grey, she strikes me as a smart young woman. Your offer is good. She will no doubt accept.”
“Oh! I am so tired of lying in bed.” Lydia fidgeted. “I want to get back to London and start working on things.”
Tilly smiled and squeezed Lydia's hand. “Only do not tax yourself too soon. There is a special doctor coming today. Talk to him, first, before you climb out the window and into the mail coach.”
“I shall listen to you, Miss Prudence, but only because I can feel how sore my body still is.” Lydia wrinkled her nose. “And I have no wish to suffer another prolonged headache.”
“Speaking of prolonged headaches,” Tilly leaned back in her chair, “I believe there is a pending question of your plans for marriage. Lord Aldley has formally asked your father's permission to propose to you, you know.”
“Has he? And what did my father say?”
“I have it from Rutherford that, although your father was still angry about your being embroiled in a most inappropriate carriage chase which almost killed you, he consented.”
“I am not surprised. He must be even more desperate for me to make a good match now that I appear to have been compromised.”
“Even more desperate?” Tilly's brows perked up.
“Never mind that.” Lydia tried to wave her hand as Tilly always did, but was prevented by the pain in her right arm. “It is my father's business.”
“Very well.” Tilly's nose twitched. “But it seems your father did make the clear stipulation that he would not compel you to marry the earl, if you did not desire it. Nor would he allow Lord Aldley to use your apparently compromised position to press you into marriage.”
“He truly said that?” Lydia was impressed. She had the best father in the world.
Tilly chuckled. “You have it third hand, but yes.”
“Times like these show who your truest friends are. You, for instance.” She smiled at Tilly. “And my father—a wonderful, true-hearted man.”
“Yes, yes.” Tilly's eyes only betrayed a little sentimentality. “But I hope you will not go maudlin on me now—I was just beginning to enjoy your new found fortitude.”
“I am as strong as ever. And I am ready to speak to Lord Aldley.”
“Very well. You seem to know what you are about.” Tilly stood. “I shall send him in, but first let me lend you my lady's maid. You may have to be firm with him, but you needn't frighten the poor man out of his wits.”
Chapter 52
Lord Aldley had just returned from taking a walk along the few rudimentary paths that ambled off the main road running through town. It was not the most scenic location, but he needed the fresh air and exercise.
All the sitting about in the clean, b
ut depressingly under-decorated, rooms of the inn had tested his nerves to their utmost. The knowledge that Lydia's parents had told her what really happened made his condition worse, for he could not stop wondering why she did not summon him.
He knew he should be more understanding. It was quite natural that she would wish to speak to her best friend, but he could not help feeling slighted and a little jealous of their closeness. Such thoughts were unmanly and beneath him. Aldley knew it.
He tried to dispel them. He reminded himself that Miss Ravelsham was probably his best advocate—aside from Lydia's mother, who, against all expectation, seemed not to blame him in the least for her daughter's present condition.
But if more neutral than Mrs. Norwood, Lydia's closest friend was likely more influential. That was the hope he must cling to.
The door opened and the lady's maid was summoned. He ran his hand over his face and could not restrain an audible groan.
“Do not fret, my lord.” Mrs. Norwood came to his side and patted his arm. “She just wants to look presentable for you. It is a very good sign.”
Although his recent exposure to Mrs. Norwood had shown her to possess an optimism that bordered on delusion, he could not help feeling a little cheered by her words. Surely it was a good sign, was it not?
“This female preening always takes some time,” Mr Norwood added. “Perhaps when Rutherford returns from the village, we can all sit down to a hand of whist.”
Mr. Norwood was also apparently feeling sorry for him. Aldley winced. It was mortifying that he cut such a pathetic figure, and yet he could not help but hope that with both her parents in sympathy with him, his suit had some chance.
“Thank you.” Aldley nodded. “That is a good idea.”
It was a mere quarter hour before Rutherford returned, but he declined whist, saying, “I have a bit of news that will no doubt put cards out of your mind, my friend.” He opened a day-old London paper to a certain page and handed it to Aldley.