“Of course, Lockwood,” Julius said, nodding at the two men as they resumed walking. “Let us sit, though, I see a table over by the window that no one is using.”
They crossed the room, winding their way through the crowded space, then sat down and leaned across the small table. Julius waited for Vincent to begin.
“As you and I have already discussed, I am seeking a wife. I know you wish for Lady Lydia to marry as soon as possible, and I am amenable to a short courtship.” Vincent waited for an answer while looking around to ensure they were not overheard by anyone who might take to the gossiping rooms.
“Very good. Yes, I’ve had designs for your marriage to my niece for some time,” Julius agreed. “We can work out the details of the contracts—as well as the bride price and the dowry—tomorrow in my study. For now, you need only make your formal declaration to Lydia. While her approval is not required, it is certainly something she should be at least given the opportunity to offer.”
“And is there a chance she will not be amenable to such a request?” Vincent asked, glaring somewhat. “I have made numerous inquiries into other men who may have asked to court her and have not learned of any.”
“No, no. I am fairly certain she will accept and be grateful to do so,” Julius said, waving off Vincent’s concern. “I only meant that her acceptance is but a pleasantry, and not actually required. As her guardian, I can require it of her, after all. But that will not be necessary, I’m certain.”
“And her father’s will is very clear about her inheritance?” Vincent asked, hinting.
“Solid. Do not let that worry you, I have taken care of everything,” Julius replied, his voice so low that Vincent had need to lean closer to hear it.
“Good. Then I shall go and find Lady Lydia and speak with her,” Vincent said before rising from his chair. “I shall call on you tomorrow to discuss our contract. Good evening to you.”
Chapter 6
All through the supper, Lydia could feel the weight of Vincent’s stare on her. Though he was seated a modest distance away and at a table with the Duke of Reighton and the Viscount of Prendor, she could somehow sense when his eyes sought hers. At least, it seemed that way, as each time she looked over to him, he appeared to be watching her.
On one such occasion, Lydia was taken aback when he appeared to be speaking to her, though silently, only moving his mouth to say, “I must talk to you.” Her heart leapt at the brazenness he showed in acting thus when there were so many onlookers to notice.
“And you, Lady Lydia,” a matronly old Duchess said at Lydia’s elbow, “this is your second Season, is it not? How have you enjoyed the dancing this year?”
“It has been most wonderful, Your Grace,” Lydia answered, casting aside all thoughts of Vincent to give her full attention to the older woman. “It has taken much of my time to keep up with my dancing lessons, though, as so much of the style has changed.”
“Quite right,” another woman closer in age to Uncle Julius said, “and I must say, I much enjoy how the dancing has changed as of late. Give me a happy Scottish reel with a great deal of robust dancing, not the mopey standing about and walking in lines of my grandmother’s age.”
The ladies carried on their discussion of the merits of dance styles, both agreeing that the invasion into polite society of French waltzing was a disgrace.
“It is not that any young lady who would dance a waltz is immodest or wanton,” one dining companion said, “but rather that I would not wish to see my own daughter dancing in such a way. I fear it is to become quite popular here soon, though.”
Lydia smiled inwardly and covered her amusement with a bite of roast widgeon.Let the ladies hold sway over proper dancing, she thought,while important matters of state are argued after supper in the smoking rooms amongst the men. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what this “waltzing” was and what made it such a scandalous entertainment.
It was nearly two o’ clock when the desserts of blancmange and fruits had finally been brought out and the guests had begun to retire to the drawing rooms, the card tables, and the gardens for a stroll out of doors. Lydia began to rise from her seat only to find Vincent already helping her with her chair, his person so close to her that she felt a shiver run through her.
“Lady Lydia, I’d hoped you would do me the honor of that stroll now,” Vincent said, holding out his hand for Lydia to take. She paused, watching his face for a moment, then placed her open hand atop the back of his.
“Certainly, Lord Lockwood,” she replied, suddenly aware of the stares of admiration and whispers around them.
They made their way silently to the great cut glass doors that had been thrown open to permit that cool night air to drift through the rooms. Outside, pairs of chairs and low benches had been placed and were now occupied by a number of older ladies, no doubt having appointed themselves to guard over any couples who sought to walk together.
The marble courtyard directly behind the house already contained a handful of guests, those who walked in twos and threes to ease the discomfort of such rich fare. Several trios of ladies talked behind their fans or paused to lean against the low wall that run the length of the garden, their thin slippers and their stays clearly giving them pain. Other couples, men and women who walked in pairs with a modest space between them, whispered to one another in their quiet conversations.
“My Lady, I have spoken to your uncle this evening,” Vincent began, looking straight ahead as they walked side by side. “He has given his permission for me to court you, and to seek your hand in marriage. I hope such an offer would be agreeable to you.”
Lydia was quiet, pondering the strange sensation she felt. Hadn’t she hoped for this very thing, an offer of marriage to a man of good means, kindness, and who lived near enough to her uncle’s house that she would not be taken too far from Elsie?
“It is, My Lord,” Lydia replied without looking at Vincent for fear the expression on her face would give away her feelings. There were others about, those who would be keenly interested in the conversation she was having at the present, and Lydia did not wish to give herself away.
“Excellent,” Vincent replied, and Lydia thought she heard him breathe a sigh of relief. “Then, if you accept, I shall come to call tomorrow in order to speak to your uncle of your contract.”
“Very good, My Lord,” Lydia replied, her nervousness causing her to remain aloof, all while her middle felt as though writhing snakes had awakened inside of her.
Everything Papa had wanted for me is coming to pass, Lydia thought happily, a sense of great relief overpowering any elation she might have felt.
Vincent stopped abruptly and turned to face her. For a moment, Lydia feared he might make some untoward gesture such as kissing her in full view of everyone. Instead, though, he merely bowed then said, “Until tomorrow then, Lady Lydia.”
