“There is nothing you can do to change that, I’m afraid. Your father has passed on and your mother… well, I don’t see that she will ever be a changed person,” Lydia said, hoping to avoid insulting Matthew’s family. “All you can do now is decide that your mother neither controls nor owns your future happiness. Go seek the joy you never had in your family with a family of your own.”
As soon as she had spoken, Lydia clamped her mouth shut, remembering that their present circumstances would mean denying Matthew that family she had only just recommended. She felt a sting of shame at having suggested it, and hoped Matthew would not bring it up.
Instead, he gently took her hand away from his head and sat up. “I think I am better now. It hurts a great deal, but I am certain I shall survive.”
The rest of their journey that day was quiet, though not nearly so strained as it had been before. By the time they reached the inn, low clouds had rolled in, threatening them with a heavy rain.
“Matthew,” Lydia began shyly, “this room is more than adequate. I… that is, you… you are welcome to stay in here if it would be more comfortable for you.”
He looked at her as though trying to decipher any hidden meaning, but Lydia looked away nervously. “I mean that there is ample room and several heavy blankets if you would prefer to make up your bed over there.”
“And what of anyone who would find out I stayed in here?” he asked, looking to the door as though someone might have already heard. “We would never live down the talk.”
“The damage is done,” she answered with a resigned sigh. “Once my person left the Bronson estate—under cover of darkness, no less—there was no redeeming me. You might as well not sleep curled up on the floor of the carriage, and certainly not after what you were put through today while saving my life.”
Matthew thought about it for a moment, so long that Lydia began to worry if she’d been too forward. Finally, he nodded.
“Thank you, it would be more comfortable. And I would be glad of the fire during the night.” He came only close enough to take the outstretched blanket that Lydia held out, but put up his hand in refusal when she offered the long cushion that served as the only pillow. “No, this is more than enough. I can use my coat and be quite comfortable.”
Matthew folded the blanket longways before tossing the end in the air to straighten it out, letting it drift to the floor in front of the fireplace. He unfolded the upper portion and laid down, then pulled the top of the blanket across himself. He buried his face beneath the blanket and turned towards the fire, giving Lydia some semblance of privacy as she readied herself for bed.
“Good night, Matthew,” Lydia said after she’d crawled into the bed and blew out the candle.
“Good night, Lydia,” Matthew returned, his voice muffled by the blanket.
* * *
Matthew slept fitfully during the night, as was to be expected with the hard floor beneath him. Still, it was a significant gesture on Lydia’s part to even permit him to stay, one that he would not snub in order to be only a mite more comfortable elsewhere. When the rain began to pound harder against the windows, he was even more glad of his place on the floor in front of the low fire, feeling every bit like a favorite dog given a blanket for its bed.
What have I done to us, Matthew thought miserably when crashing thunder awakened him.We are ruined, the both of us. We’ll have nowhere to receive us, no one to call comrades.
He shoved that thought aside with memories of his business offices in the Far East and thoughts of his lovely cottage on a bluff overlooking the harbor. His time in China had been well-spent in securing a number of shipping contracts, and as a result, he would live out his days in slightly lavish comfort far away from here.
It is hardly fair to Lydia, but that cannot be helped, he thought miserably.She deserves better than to be the wife in name only of an Earl who does not see fit to remain at her side, to give her children and make a home.
Matthew’s ears pricked once as he heard Lydia mumble in her sleep. Another boom of thunder shook the windows, and he realized she was dreaming something that was distressing to her. Rolling to his other side, he reached high above him to the bed and took her hand, shaking it slightly.
At another bang of thunder, her grip on his hand tightened instinctively. Matthew propped himself up on his elbow to see if she’d awakened, but a soft whimper told him she was still dreaming.
“Always such a beauty,” Matthew whispered sadly, remembering how she’d looked the day he’d left for school. Her features had clearly still belonged to a young girl at the time, though her face was taking on the narrower shape of an emerging young lady. Now, she was the most striking woman he’d ever seen, and Matthew wondered if he would have thought so had he been present for the slow evolution from childhood friend to beautiful woman.
Reaching for his blanket and rolled up coat, Matthew moved away from the fire and closer to the bed, keeping Lydia’s hand in his for as long as she had need of its comfort.
Chapter 16
Julius had struck out from the house early the following day, leaving strict instructions that anyone who caught sight of Lydia—should his hunch miraculously prove incorrect—was to bind her to a chair and throw her in the larder until his return. Before he could depart for the north, there was one other unfortunate call he had to make.
“Good day, Lockwood,” Julius called out as soon as Vincent entered the drawing room.
Vincent nodded curtly to his butler that it was all right to depart, then turned to Julius. “And what is it you want?”
“Only that I have good news. I shall be called away on urgent business for a few days, but when I return, I hope to discuss a marriage with you. Soon, if you’re amenable to the idea,” Julius said brightly.
“Oh? Whose marriage?” Vincent asked sarcastically, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
“You and I both know of the deep affection you hold for Lydia. The unfortunate events at Verdurn’s are behind us, though, and once sufficient time has passed—say, three weeks or so—the ton will have forgotten it completely,” Julius explained with a dismissive wave. “But just to be certain, I’ve spent the past day or so calling on various members of society to chat about what happened.”
“And what did they have to say?” Vincent asked, begrudgingly gesturing for Julius to sit down. He took a seat on the sofa opposite Julius and waited.
