“Oh, yes, of course.” Lydia began to retreat but stopped. “Thank you. I cannot express my gratitude to you for the invitation.” She did not want to show just how desperate she had been only a quarter of an hour before, but she was sure some of it leaked into her expression.
“I might wish to take all credit, but truly, you must thank my son. Lucas was quite persuasive in his request to have you stay with us.”
Lydia’s feet had glued themselves to the floor. Of course. Lucas had been the only one to know of her fear of leaving. He was the only one who could have accomplished this, but it was more than she ever could have expected from him, and it made her stomach lift as if filled with air. She suddenly felt like grinning stupidly. Or laughing. All she could do was press a hand to hermouth to keep from embarrassing herself. “I shall have to thank him, then,” she said when she could pretend to be less affected than she was.
Lady Cheltenham smiled rather secretively. “Or perhaps not. I believe he asked me not to say anything. I should like to pretend I am still in my prime of youth, but apparently my mind is going just a bit.” She did not seem particularly remorseful though.
Lydia nodded. “I will say nothing then. Just a moment and we can be off.”
“Take your time, dear.”
Lydia had to keep from running back to the study, but the furrowed lines of her guardian’s grim expression sobered her when she re-entered.
“This is a high compliment to us,” Lord Tarrington said, his breathing labored. He cleared his throat and then started coughing. His body was sunken into the couch, and it became even more recessed with the newest fit. “I do not know what you’ve done to deserve this, but it is exactly what we need. Do not fail to make a good match. And remember... remember that I still have the choice of whether or not to approve whom you marry. Choose well.”
As long as she was not under his thumb and at his whim, she would agree to anything just now. So she nodded. But something pushed her to speak on an entirely different subject. Some sort of brief moment of concern over this man’s future—which was so odd as she should not care one whit about it, not when she had so many worries about her own. “I hope you recover, Lord Tarrington. I hope the country air does you well.”
She thought she saw a flicker of sadness behind his eyes. But then he blinked, and it was gone.
And then he dismissed her.
The ride to the Cheltenham home was a blur, as was the removal of herself and her things from the carriage, but nowtime slowed to a halt as she stood in a familiar drawing room somehow still feeling out of place.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” Lady Cheltenham said from behind her. She’d remained in the hall to direct the settling of Lydia’s trunks, but now she came to stand beside Lydia, who seemed to be finding it hard to gain her bearings.
She was so grateful to be here but felt so undeserving at the same time. What had she done to earn this change in fortune? She glanced over, meeting Lady Cheltenham’s knowing gaze. Without saying a word, the woman leaned in, wrapping Lydia tightly in a hug. The embrace was affectionate—not at all stiff or proper—and Lydia felt encompassed in a comforting warmth that she had not experienced in... well, in her recollection, ever. There was the barest hint of nostalgia in the action, a wisp of a thought that she had been hugged this way many times before but so long ago that she could not remember.
Tears pricked her eyes, and Lydia blinked them back, knowing that at any moment, Lady Cheltenham would release her from the embrace. But her arms remained around Lydia for several seconds longer than Lydia would have expected. It was not uncomfortable and gave Lydia a moment to relax and dry her eyes.
When Lady Cheltenham pulled back, her mouth was still wide in a smile. “Come, sit. I’ve called for tea that should be here any moment.”
Lydia sat, some of the discomfort she’d felt upon first arriving seeping from her after that warm welcome.
“I am certain my son will descend on us as soon as he is aware that you’ve arrived, but I want a word with you before that happens.”
Lydia tensed.
“To start, I rather like you.” She gave Lydia a bright smile, but then it dimmed into a more solemn expression. “And truly, whatyou have done for Charlie, well, we could not possibly leave that unappreciated. My husband and I agreed that by hosting you for the remainder of the Season, we would be doing the bare minimum to show you our thanks. I hope that by staying with our family, you will be able to not only enjoy the remainder of your Season but also have some time to explore your freedom. I know what it is like to be under the care of a guardian, and it can be hard to decide what is best foryouwhen under the command of someone else.”
Lydia opened and closed her mouth, unsure of how exactly to respond, particularly to the last part that had struck so close to the internal struggle she’d been having.
So she settled on the safest of topics. “I am glad I was able to help Lord Charles. Is he well-recovered?”
Lady Cheltenham nodded. “He is resting now but is much improved. The surgeon did not arrive for another hour, at which point he confirmed that Charlie’s shoulder was out of place and rectified that.” Shadows of pain crossed Lady Cheltenham’s face at the apparent recollection of that event, and Lydia reached out a comforting hand without thinking. With a little shake of her shoulders, Lady Cheltenham collected herself. “The man wanted to put stitches in Charles’s head, but Lucas would not allow it. Something about it causing further discomfort that would not be necessary. Ultimately, the surgeon relented, and I think Charles was more than a little grateful to not be made to endure more pain.”
Lydia’s heart swelled with pride and gratitude. She had been the one to tell Lord Berkeley those things about the stitching of Lord Charles’s cut, and he’d trusted her enough to fight an actual surgeon over the fact.
That brought to mind the vision of Lord Berkeley in rough clothing, his cravat removed to staunch the blood of hisbrother’s wound. Her heart sped up. She was in his home now. She would have to fight these images even harder now.
As if the thought of him brought him into being, the door opened. “Mother? I saw the servants carrying in a trunk? Is there—Miss Faraday.” He pulled up short, staring at her.
“I need to check on Charles.” Lady Cheltenham stood. “Lucas, you will see to it that Lydia is settled in our home?”
Lord Berkeley glanced at his mother then back to Lydia. He nodded.
In an instant, Lydia and Lord Berkeley were left in the room alone. Lord Berkeley walked in, grasped the back of a chair across from her, and cleared his throat, saying nothing.
She met his gaze, the knowledge of what he’d done for her foremost in her mind. He’d saved her. She would forever be in his debt.
