Lydia blanched, and for a moment, Matthew wished he could reach back through time to the last few seconds and rend every word he’d spoken. Her cheeks flamed with a deep pink blush that reminded Matthew of her youth, her vulnerability, of the way she had taken him at his word and trusted him.
Walking slowly, a certain hesitance in her steps, Lydia returned to where Matthew was standing and spoke very softly. “Not yet, Matthew.”
“Yet?”
“Yes. We have only just begun to think of each other fondly, to stop being so angry with one another at every turn,” she explained, and Matthew wanted to hit himself for giving her cause to be so embarrassed. “I should like to think that someday, we would share a bed as husband and wife, but at the present—”
“Oh heaven’s, Lydia, I’m so sorry,” Matthew interrupted, reaching for her hand. “That is not at all what I meant. Forgive me. I only meant your bedchamber itself, as we had to do at the inn. I would never expect you to permit me to your bed after how all of this came about.”
Instead of looking relieved, a wave of pain caused Lydia’s face. Try as he might to put her thoughts at rest, Matthew had only made it far, far worse.
“Oh blast, that’s not what I meant either!” he said with exasperation. “I’m making this worse with every word I utter. Lydia, I do not mean never. I am in complete agreement with you.”
“You are?” she asked in a voice so meek that he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and cradle her to him strongly, assuring her that he was not rejecting her.
“Of course,” Matthew promised with an adoring smile. “But I feel precisely as you do. Our start together was so untenable that I could never expect you to simply feel like a true wife to me. You missed out on so much due to my grievous mistakes. You should have been courted properly, with great celebration. Your uncle should have hosted dinners and balls in your honor, introducing your beloved betrothed to the ton.”
“Instead, you were made to sneak away like a thief with a man who so callously demanded that you never even have the love of a family of your own, let alone any semblance of love from him.” Matthew stopped, a remorseful look replacing his loving expression. “No, I take that back. You were not made to feel like that…Imade you feel like that. You deserve courtship and celebration and a real marriage. You deserve for others to be certain about how much I love you. When I have fulfilled that part for you, only then could I ask to share your bed and pray that you deign to let me.”
Lydia smiled as tears of joy filled her eyes. She looked up at Matthew with an expression that filled him with hope.
“That is what I want too,” Lydia said, the heartfelt emotion evident in her words. “Then I suppose your plan will not be objectionable.”
Matthew shook his head. “No, I rescind my offer. I would not have even your own family believe that we were living as husband and wife until I have made good on my promise of courting you. Let them think what they will, I care not.”
“Thank you, Matthew,” Lydia whispered. “Though it has all been so unusual, it is an honor to be your wife.”
“And I will earn the honor of being your husband,” he promised her, kissing her gently on the forehead.
Chapter 30
“There now,” Lydia said, patting the bedclothes around Elsie’s thin body. “All comfy?”
Elsie smiled up at her and nodded, her eyes wide. She still had deep purple circles beneath her eyes, and tonight’s sleeplessness would be evident on her face come morning. “Lydia, do you think Mother and Father know where I am?”
Lydia swallowed loudly but forced a reassuring smile, ignoring the disappointed pang of sadness that struck her from knowing that Elsie was still not able to move past their parents’ deaths. She nodded, then was finally able to speak.
“I’m sure they know where you are,” Lydia said sweetly. “They’re looking down on us, remember? Watching over us, like I’ve told you before? They are so proud of the wonderful little girl you are, and they take great delight in you being happy and having loads of fun.”
“Thank you, Lydia,” Elsie said. “But how will I find them here? It’s so far from our home.”
Lydia took a deep breath. She wanted to cry out that it wasn’t real, their parents were not still in Bronson Manor and certainly not in Paxton Hall, but how could she hurt the child in that way? If Elsie believed her parents to be real and still present, how could Lydia remove all hope that someday—if Elsie continued to look hard enough—she might actually find them?
“It’s time to go to sleep now,” Lydia assured her. “Are you certain you’ll be comfortable on this sofa? The bed here will certainly fit us both.”
“I am,” Elsie replied with a grateful look. “Thank you for letting me sleep in here with you. My room was too big, I did not like it. With this sofa, I feel like there are walls around me.”
“Of course, dear. Tomorrow we will look all through the house for a room that suits you. Now go to sleep.” Lydia pressed a kiss to Elsie’s forehead and said a silent prayer over her sister’s safekeeping. She turned down the oil in the lamp until only a wan glow emanated from the glass, then rose to go to her own bed.
“Lydia?” Elsie whispered in a small voice.
“Yes, dear?”
“I like Matthew. He’s very kind,” Elsie said.
“Yes, he is,” Lydia agreed as she drew the covers over herself.
“It’s nice to have a brother now,” Elsie continued. “Maybe with a brother, I won’t have to go looking all over the house.” There was a lengthy silence, long enough that Lydia hoped her sister had finally fallen asleep. But then, “Lydia?”
