Elsie froze for a moment, then changed course and returned to the doorway. Lydia followed to ensure the girl returned to her own room, and waited at the doorway to watch her crawl under the covers of her own bed.
“The poor girl,” Lydia thought sadly as she returned to her bed. “Something must be tormenting her for her to be so restless in the night. I only wish I could understand and seek to help her!”
By morning, Lydia awoke to gray skies outside her window, thankful that at least the weather appeared to be commiserating with her. A gentle knock at the door from her maid told her the hour to get up was at hand.
“Good day to you, My Lady,” Abigail said, entering with a tray. “I know you take your breakfast downstairs, but due to the late hour of your return last night, Mrs. Bigsby thought she might send up your food on a tray for you.”
“That is very thoughtful of her, please give her my thanks when you return downstairs,” Lydia replied, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She arranged her pillows behind her while Abigail banked up the fire to ward off the chill of the spring morning.
“There. I shouldn’t think you need more coal, not when the day promises to be so fair,” Abigail explained, “but only ring for me if my guess is incorrect.” She brushed her hands on a cloth tucked into the strings of her apron, then fetched the tray she’d left on Lydia’s writing table.
“Here you are, My Lady,” Abigail said, placing it across Lydia’s lap and unfurling a napkin for the bodice of her nightgown. “Oh, and a letter came for you rather early this morning, I’ve placed it beside the tea pot. Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you, Abigail,” Lydia replied distantly, distracted by a letter at this hour of the day. She plucked it up, noting the costliness of such fine paper, but not seeing any writing at all on the outside. “Tell me, was it sent by post or by messenger?”
“My apologies, My Lady, but I do not know,” Abigail explained. “I was not nearby when it arrived. Mrs. Bigsby must have thought to send it up. I can certainly go inquire of Mr. Green, if you wish.”
“No, that’s all right,” she answered, still perplexed. “I suppose how it arrived is not important, rather that it arrived at all.”
“Of course, My Lady. Only ring when you are finished with your tray and I will return to dress you.”
The lady’s maid left, leaving Lydia to stare at the letter in horror. A snake writhing about on her tray, winding itself between the cup and the tea pot, slithering through the delicate china handle, would have been a more welcome sight. There was only one possibility: Vincent.
And most assuredly, he was writing to formally retract his offer of courtship and eventual marriage.
Lydia picked it up and held it to the light of the window, hoping she could decipher the writing within. It was a futile effort, of course, but it would have spared her the degradation of reading his painful words in full view. She felt its weight, wondering how such hurtful words could take so much paper. How much expense had he gone to in order to write, “You are a wanton harlot and I shall have nothing to do with you?”
“Best do it quickly,” she whispered, opening the folded page and smoothing it out to read it.
Lydia stopped short, pressing a hand to her mouth. It was not from Vincent at all, but rather from Matthew.
Lady Lydia,
I have given some thought to my very rash actions of the previous evening and have come to a decision. It would be in the best interest of both of us and of our families if we forged ahead with the announced engagement. If you will have me as your husband—only for a marriage of convenience, of course, with no untoward displays of affection or resulting consummation—we will sign our contract and I will send the notice to the priest that he might publish the banns.
Sincerely,
Matthew, Earl of Paxton
Lydia stared at the letter in disbelief, reading the words over and over. She sought to find some semblance of the Matthew she had known all her life, but found only a cold, distant shadow of that person. In its stead, a moody, unpredictable man now resided, one who purported that marriage would be beneficial to them both.
Moving aside her untouched tray, Lydia rose from her bed and retrieved some paper of her own. Sitting down at her writing desk, she penned a quick response to Matthew.
Dear Lord Paxton,
I appreciate your letter today and understand the sentiments it contains. I agree with you and shall be grateful of the offer you’ve made. Please inform me when you are at liberty to call on me so that we might discuss the particulars.
Sincerely,
Lady Lydia Reed
She read over the letter several times, then folded it to ready it for sending. Quickly pouring and drinking a cup of tea, she rang for Abigail once more and made ready to await Matthew’s answer.
Chapter 9
As soon as Julius awoke, he darted from his bed and hurried to get dressed. The hour was already later than he had hoped, but with their arrival from Lord Verdurn’s at such an hour as four o’clock, he had slept longer than usual.
Ignoring the breakfast that the servants had assembled in the morning room, Julius headed immediately to the stable and called for the stable boy.
