Chapter 11
No one spoke, even after the butler bowed and left them to the agony of such an awkward encounter. Lydia exchanged a pleading look with Penelope, who eventually stood and said, “Thank you for the lovely visit, Lady Lydia. I must be off.”
“So soon?” Lydia demanded, giving her friend a pointed look that Matthew could not see. “Are you certain you wouldn’t rather stay? We could even have luncheon after I see to the Earl’s matters?”
“Oh no, I’m quite sure,” Penelope answered brightly, returning a knowing look. “I’m certain you have important matters to discuss and I would only be in the way. I will call on you again tomorrow, if you like. Good day!”
Penelope curtsied formally to her friend as she took her leave, then looked up at Matthew on her way past with a sort of glare that spoke volumes. She met his eyes and never wavered as she curtsied, then left the house.
“My apologies, My Lady, I did not mean to interrupt a visit from your friend,” Matthew began, but Lydia folded her hands primly as she stood and nodded.
“It is all right. We were actually discussing the events of last evening, and their potential outcomes,” Lydia answered. She looked around uneasily as the silence once again took hold, then managed to stammer, “Won’t you sit down?”
Matthew nodded, seeming for all the world as though the idea had never occurred to him, then he looked about the well-appointed room for an appropriate seat. Sensing his dilemma, Lydia sat back down on the sofa where she had been speaking with Penelope, giving Matthew leave to choose a chair near enough to the sofa but not scandalously close to her.
“Lady Lydia,” he began, his words faltering almost as soon as he began, “we should discuss our arrangement. I received your reply this morning and it is important that we come to an understanding.”
“Of course,” Lydia answered quietly, her hands folded in front of her, hiding the fact that her fingers were gripped together so tightly in her anxiousness that the skin turned red.
“I still remain in agreement that we should marry.” Matthew paused, as though hoping Lydia would argue his point, but she remained silent. “I am, after all, the cause of your cancelled engagement.”
“I have not yet received word that the Viscount of Lockwood cannot be dissuaded, though,” Lydia reminded him, a note of hope in her words even as she knew he would never change his mind. “In fact, my uncle has left the house at a very early hour this morning, and it is my hope that he can undo the damage that I have wrought.”
Matthew winced, and Lydia noticed the way he recoiled at those words. “I know I was very harsh to you yesterday evening, but I see now in the light of day that I must accept my part in all of this as well. I did encourage you to climb on the wall, after all—”
“You dared me, you mean,” Lydia said, interrupting with a petulant feeling.
“—yes, I dared you. And then it was I who suggested our method of climbing up the hillside. At the top, when faced with all of the angry mob who stood ready to chastise you, it was I who spoke rashly without considering what I was doing,” Matthew said, averting his gaze and not meeting Lydia’s eye.
Lydia watched Matthew’s face, attempting to uncover the expression he wore. Was it remorse? Guilt? Resignation for this awful lot in life? No, none of those things. It was certainly not an inviting air he carried, but not an unpleasant one either.
“Thank you for explaining your thoughts. But now, as for marriage,” Lydia began, but she stopped to choose her words carefully. “As I stated in my reply to you, I feel that a marriage between us is an acceptable solution to an untenable problem. I now have no prospects and am under a great strain to be married, lest I lose out on my father’s inheritance altogether. There would be no dowry, no sum to sustain me should my husband die, no chance for Elsie to have anything. We would live at the mercy of my uncle’s charity and sense of duty to his brother, but should anything happen to him we would be lost.”
“That is a terrible position to find oneself in,” Matthew agreed. “For my part, I did not return to England to bring scandal upon my family. I did not wish to return at all, in truth.”
Lydia was the one to wince this time, aware that Matthew had been far happier away from London, his family, and even her. He noticed her response but did not speak on it further.
“Therefore,” he continued quietly, “should I marry, it would fulfill the one obligation that my mother rightly has. She insists that I marry in order to avoid any illicit talk about me, and while I disagree with her—rather enjoying the thought of a pleasant bit of scandal to upset her rule of the world around us—if I were to marry, I would be provided ample reason to turn her out of my house.”
“You wish to marry only to cast your mother aside?” Lydia asked. “Does that not seem odd to you?”
“You must have forgotten what she’s like,” Matthew said without further explanation. “I have spoken to her this morning about finding her a new home in London as any young lady I marry would become the Countess of Paxton, a title my mother currently clings to as though it were a rope pulling her from the sea.”
“I understand,” Lydia said. Hesitating slightly, she asked, “But how shall this work between us? We will marry, and then what?”
“The scandal of your ruination at the hands of a miscreant man of foreign business will eventually subside,” Matthew explained carefully, “and then we will be free to seek an annulment.”
“An annulment? That is hardly better than not marrying at all!” Lydia cried in her shock. “What would become of me after you seek permission from the government and the church to pretend that we had never married in the first place? I would still have no prospects, only I would then be somewhat older and even less marriageable.”
“I see,” Matthew said, nodding thoughtfully. “Then I propose to follow with my original plan, which was to return to the Far East as soon as I was able. I returned home due to my father’s death, and once his affairs were sorted and I was rightfully the Earl of Paxton, I had intended to return to my business abroad. It brings me great happiness as well as family prosperity.”
Lydia frowned. Far be it from her to argue with one who was going to such lengths to redeem her good name, but everything about the conversation was going from bad to worse the longer they spoke.
“I suppose that is the best I can hope for,” Lydia agreed reluctantly, “though I know not what I would do in your house and as your wife in your absence. Where would I live? I should stay at Paxton Hall all alone? And what, become a grand dame of the ton, hosting all the best parties and balls while spending your hard-earned money?”
Matthew shrugged. “It is not the worst outcome, I should think. After all, neither of us wants this, and should the day come that you do meet a man who will overlook your age and married station, I will gladly concede to the annulment so that you might be happy. In return, yes, you would reside at Paxton Hall and host lavish affairs in my absence, if that is what you wish. It would actually benefit my business to have someone lively and interesting to entertain large crowds in the ton and keep my family name present in the minds of the peerage. As for spending my money, consider it a salary for advancing my business interests by being lively, charming, and gracious to those who pass their time in my house.”
Lydia looked unconvinced. A salary for playing the happy wife, the ideal hostess? It felt dirty somehow, a ruse that left her empty inside. Matthew saw the reluctance on her face and added a final point.
