“What are we doing?” Lydia asked somberly.
“Getting away from that vicious witch,” Matthew answered, still holding Lydia’s hand as he walked with great purpose towards his study. Lydia followed on quick feet, grateful to be away from there.
Inside his study, Matthew closed the door and led Lydia to a comfortable chair before bringing another close to her side. He waited silently for the right words to say, knowing that no mere words could make up for what she must be feeling. He sat down and smiled broadly, then looked to her gown once again.
“I am so sorry,” he began, still looking at the cheap cloth with its dove grey print.
“It’s all right. The house maids were exceedingly kind about loaning me two gowns,” Lydia answered, looking away in embarrassment and crossing her arms in front of her as though to conceal it.
“I will make her pay dearly for this,” Matthew promised her, but Lydia shook her head.
“Please don’t. When you are gone again, she will only make it worse.” Lydia looked down at her hands in her lap and did not explain further.
“She will not, because she will not be here,” Matthew said, taking one of her hands in his. “She wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place, and I am dreadfully sorry that I sent you here to face her alone. If I had known, I would have never—”
“It’s all right, you didn’t know. Williams told me to stay away from her and I did as best I could. She came to my room once the lady’s maid had laundered my things, and…” Lydia didn’t finish her accusation, and she did not need to.
“I am sorry,” Matthew said again. “Can they be repaired?”
Lydia shook her head. “I think not. I might try though, with your permission, as one of the gowns was my mother’s.”
Matthew closed his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw to keep from saying something awful. “First, of course. We will send it off to the best tailors in London to see if they can mend it. But Lydia, second and more importantly, this is your home now and you are my wife, whether our agreement is common or not. All that I have is yours now, and there is absolutely nothing you need my permission for.”
Lydia looked up at him gratefully, then blushed with embarrassment. She looked away for only a moment before willing herself to meet his gaze again.
“Even this?” she asked shyly. She reached for his hand and held it tightly, watching the way his fingers instinctively wrapped around her small hand.
“No. You need not even ask,” he answered cautiously as he wrapped his other hand around both of theirs. He was surprised once again by the way her small hand fit into his.
“Or this?” Lydia asked, reaching up with her free hand and brushing back a dark brown curl that hung over his forehead, tracing the shadowy hint of a bruise with her fingertips to see if it still hurt.
“Of course not,” he answered, still watching her warily.
“But what of this?” Lydia asked after several moments of silence had passed between them. She did not move, waiting for either his blessing or her courage.
Matthew appeared confused until Lydia leaned forward, close enough that they might touch. She brushed her lips gently against his, a brief kiss that was over far too soon for Matthew’s liking.
“Not even that,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth turning up in an unexpected smile.
* * *
What are you doing?!Lydia thought in a panic, knowing no good could come from such a tender moment as this.This will only break your heart when he’s gone!
Lydia was flooded with embarrassment at her boldness, though Matthew still looked on her with kindness. He was silent, watching her face as she sat uncomfortably aware of his attention.
“What was that for?” Matthew asked with a delighted smile, his words not accusing but rather curious.
“I don’t know,” Lydia answered shyly. “I think I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
“I have as well,” he confessed, a hint of longing in his voice. “I don’t know what came over either of us, but at least for now I’m glad it did.”
Lydia looked up at him and smiled with relief. She knew better than to think this might be some sort of magic, the kind that could erase all the hurt that both of them had endured. But Penelope’s words filled her mind:You have nothing to lose by loving him.
A dark cloud seemed to pass over Matthew. He turned away very slightly, enough that Lydia wondered if whatever spell they had been under was now irrevocably broken.
“What is it?” Lydia ventured to ask, steeling herself for the answer.
“I find,” Matthew began, but he stopped. When he finally looked at her, he said, “I find that I am suddenly very frightened.”
