Sera arranged amocking smile upon her features though it didn’t sit well. “Well,well, if it isn’t Lydia Torrence. Whatever are you doing here,Lydia Torrence?”
Lydia squaredher shoulders. “Are you crying?”
Sera started,then raised her chin mulishly. “Why are you wandering the halls, orperhaps I can guess? However, I don’t really need to. I know it hasto do with Lord Roxwaithe.”
“Youdon’t know anything.”
“Iknow you were in the orangery. I know you were…close.”
Lydia stared ather. “Do you?”
“Itwould be unfortunate if that knowledge was to become more widelyknown.” What was she doing? Stephen had said he couldn’t trust herand, apparently, he was right.
“Youknow what, Seraphina?” Lydia burst out. “I don’t care. Tell myfamily. Tell everyone. Do you think I care what other people think?Do you think I care whatyouthink?”
Sera felt theblood drain from her face. “You don’t?”
Lydia held hergaze, refusing to answer.
Sera swallowed.“Why don’t you?”
“Because…” Lydia leant close. “I don’t like you.”
Sera flinched,stricken at her own words thrown back at her. With one final look,Lydia stalked off.
Leaning againstthe wall, Sera pressed her arms into her stomach. She couldn’tthink. She couldn’t… Why did it matter what Lydia Torrence thoughtof her? Why did a sharp pain lodge in her chest, and it was all shecould do not to scream and scream and scream?
Lightningcrashed, and she saw Stephen again before her, looking asif…looking as if…as if he hated her.
She opened hermouth and the strangest sound came out. Was it a moan? A sob? Whatwas happening to her? What was…?
She’d onlythought to help. She’d thought to help him, to get him what hewanted. How could he look at her so?How?
Tomorrow. Shewould go to him tomorrow and she would explain. She would tell himshe was wrong, she didn’t mean it, and…She would explain. He wouldlet her explain. He had to.
He hadto.
Chapter Sixteen
STORMING THROUGH ROXEGATE’S HALLS, Stephen reached hisbrother’s study and shoved open the door. “What did youdo?”
Oliver’s headjerked up, surprise hardening into displeasure. “I’ll thank you tolower your voice.”
Bloody hell, whocared about his bloodytone? “I shall clarify. What did youdo to Lydia Torrence?”
Oliver’s hardexpression dropped. “What do you mean? Is she hurt?”
Stephen scowled.“Christ, Oliver, what were you thinking?” Probably wasn’t thinking,more to the point. Probably couldn’t think past the cockstand inhis—
“Stephen. Is. She. Hurt?”
His brother’spanicked words ripped through his inner rants. Oliver was pale, hisfist clenched and knuckles white. Gentling his tone, he said, “No.Not physically, however it was a damn near thing. You’re lucky therumour didn’t spread.”
Oliver closedhis eyes, his throat moving. Stephen watched him compose himself,watched the intense fear slowly recede. His brother really did loveLydia. “What rumour?” Oliver finally asked.
“That you and Lydia—That you—” Uncomfortable, he shifted hisweight. Lydia was as a sister to him. He really didn’t want tothink of her and his brother…and he especially did not want tothink on the circumstances surrounding why he knew. Again, he sawSera’s face, stricken and pale. His chest ached.
“What?”
