Whispers started rippling through the crowd. Lydia knew that each word spoken was about her, Victor, and John. Part of her wanted to stride up to each and every one of these people and tell them the truth, but of course, she would only have been seen as hysterical and would have been required to spend time in an asylum.
“They shall not get the better of us,” Victor murmured in a voice that only she could hear. He strode forward, and because she was linked to his arm, she moved as well. They held their headshigh and did not engage in any of the whispers although people hardly tried to disguise their intrigue.
While she and Victor had their differences, in this they were united as when they had been bathing John. It gave her strength to know that she did not have to face this scrutiny alone.
“Ah good, you made it!” Edmund said, sidling up to them. He already had drinks in his hand and passed them to Victor and Lydia. Rose was soon behind him. When Edmund’s hands were free, he shook Victor’s hand vigorously and then hugged Lydia. Rose inclined her head towards Victor and then hugged Lydia tightly.
“We could hardly refuse the invitation,” Victor said dryly.
“Lydia, you look astonishing! Where did you get this dress? I’ve never seen anything like it,” Rose gasped, pinching the fabric between her fingers. Lydia smiled.
“From a modiste called Melody Chambers.”
“I’ll have to visit.”
“I’d think twice about that,” Lydia said. Rose gave her a strange look, but Victor chuckled as he shared a knowing glance with her.
Lydia’s cheeks grew warm at this inside joke. It wasn’t something she thought they would ever have been capable ofwhen they first met, and it was a show of how much things had changed between them. It was also pleasing to see him smiling genuinely, rather than the forced expression that otherwise sat upon his face in response to the public appearance.
Victor and Edmund were engaged in conversation as were Rose and Lydia.
“How are things now?” Rose asked, shifting her glance quickly towards Victor. Even though they were standing in close proximity with the men, their conversation was private. The ambient noise of the party helped to drown out their words. Rose and Lydia were used to speaking in a clandestine manner although on this occasion Lydia did have to make a concerted effort to concentrate as it was easy to get distracted by everyone else around her, especially when she feared they were speaking about her life.
“Things are better than they were although I still find myself confused by Victor. There was a moment when we grew… close,” Lydia said, unwilling to go into further detail, “and he has been making more of an effort with John. However, it is clear that he still sees John as a burden. If he were not such a man of duty, then I doubt he would have any hesitation in sending John away.”
“And how do you see it?” Rose asked.
Lydia smiled. “It is challenging but so rewarding. There are moments when John looks up at me, and it is as though I am his entire world.”
Rose’s words danced on laughter.
“You have always wanted a gentleman to look at you like that. Perhaps your wish has come true, just not in the way you wanted,” she chuckled.
Lydia pressed her lips together and sighed. There was too much truth to what Rose said for her to find it amusing, and Rose’s smile soon faltered as she realized her friend took her comments seriously.
“You may be right. So far Victor’s efforts to uncover the mother have been fruitless. Frankly, I don’t know how he’s going to find her if she does not want to be recovered. London can be a labyrinth. Do you remember that story about the man who hid in London all his life?”
“The Ghost of the Thames, yes, but that was a story. And you’d hope that she would reveal herself if only to see her child.”
“A child that she abandoned. She clearly has no love for the baby,” Lydia said scornfully, her protective nature making it difficult to understand how anyone could leave John.
She certainly wouldn’t.
Rose was a little more objective, however, and spoke with soft words.
“She may have wanted John to have a better life. He is in the care of a duke and a duchess now; she might have thought that was better than being in the care of a maid.”
“Perhaps,” Lydia said although she furrowed her brow. While she was usually a compassionate person, in this instance the victim was John, and she found it difficult to conceive how anyone could leave a baby in a room alone with no guarantee that it would be found. Whoever this mother was, Lydia wasn’t sure that she was fit to take care of John.
But of course, if John was not returned to his mother, then she would have to stay married to Victor. Again, she had to face the question that tormented her:Was it worthwhile sacrificing her romantic dreams in order to look after John? Could she be content with having John in her life, knowing that she would never have a husband whom she adored?
Her mind began to ache, and she started to regret attending the ball. Lydia sipped her champagne, hoping that it would soothe her mind. The conversation shifted with everyone becoming involved. It lessened the pressure on Lydia, and she could remain quiet for long stretches of time. Edmund carried the conversation as he was skilled at doing.
Then, over her shoulder, Lydia inadvertently caught the whisperings of a conversation. Ordinarily, it would have been at the very edge of her senses, and she wouldn’t have paid much attention to it, for other people’s conversations were not her business. However, this one concerned her because she was the subject.
“… how they can show their faces. Look at them, pretending that their marriage is legitimate. We all know that they hurried because of the baby. If I had been so low as to do that, then I could have been a duchess as well. They make a mockery of theton. We’re supposed to be better than other people. They insult all of us,” this particular woman said. Lydia did not know her by name, but she quickly asked Rose and was informed that her name was Baroness Olivia Brady.
“Why is she of concern to you?” Victor asked.
