The Lady And The Duke (Regency Romance) Read online

  He looked nervous as he approached and he took out his pocket handkerchief and wiped his brow several times.

  “My darling, Lydia. You look cool and refreshed.”

  “Thank you, Henry. Won’t you take a seat,” she said, patting the bench at the place next to her.

  He hesitated and proceeded to pace before her, again mopping his brow.

  “Shall we go inside for tea?” she asked.

  “Not yet, if you don’t mind. I was hoping we might have a conversation alone first.”

  “Of course. But won’t you sit?”

  “Ah… no, thank you. I am much too nervous.”

  Oh no, she thought, is this to be the proposal? She closed her book and placed her hands in her lap. Her mind was racing. What should she say? Was she prepared to take this man as her husband? An involuntary shudder swept over her.

  This was going to be the moment of truth. She’d not consciously made up her mind whether to accept him or not, but now she must make that decision. Could she be his wife? In all honesty, she could not. She steeled herself to politely refuse his offer, but she must first hear him out.

  “Please, be at ease. What would you like to converse about?” she asked.

  “Lydia… My darling, Lydia, as you know we have been in close conversation this past twelvemonth.”

  Oh dear, she thought, “And you know how greatly I esteem your many fine qualities and accomplishments,” he continued.

  “And I am certain you have certain expectations surrounding our long courtship.”

  Lydia spoke up, impatiently, “And you as well, I believe.”

  This seemed to throw Henry out of his rhythm. “Yes. Yes, of course. And that is what I wish to discuss with you.”

  “Then please proceed,” Lydia said, wanting to get to the conclusion.

  “Yes. Yes. Well, you see, I have given our circumstances a great deal of contemplation and it seems that I must say, with all honesty, that it has come time for me to declare my intentions.”

  “Please do, Henry. The suspense is almost beyond bearing.”

  “Yes. Certainly. And Lydia I have come to the conclusion that we are perhaps not suited for each other.” He took a deep breath and looked at her with a certain amount of apprehension.

  “Henry, are you saying that you are not interested in marriage?”

  “Oh, yes… marriage certainly?”

  “Then this is a proposal?”

  “Yes. No. Marriage. Yes, I am interested in marriage… but just not with you.”

  Lydia couldn’t help herself and she let out a hearty laugh—both from his confusion and her relief.

  “Then there is someone else?” she asked.

  “Yes. Yes, there is. I recently made the acquaintance of a Miss Caroline McAlister of Upper Windom. It was quite by chance and we… well, we formed an instant bond.” He began pacing again. “I am so very, very sorry. I know you had expectations, and I am most mortified to disappoint you. But I must be honest. And I, therefore, beg you to release me from any commitment you may feel I have given you.”

  “Henry. Sit.” She patted the bench again.

  Henry sat.

  “It is quite all right. Please take a breath and settle yourself. I don’t want to marry you either.”

  He looked at her with shock. “You don’t?”

  “No. I have come to the same conclusion. Well, not because I met a Miss McAlister, but because… well, let us be honest, Henry, we are not really a match.”

  “Oh, what a relief. I was so afraid…”

  “It is quite all right. You need not bother yourself any longer.”

  Henry’s face lit up, and his pinched look disappeared. Never for one moment did she suspect that she was the cause of that. But it seemed she was. And she felt a great release, and a lightness overcame her.

  “Henry, please answer a question for me if you can.”

  “Yes, Lydia.”

  “Why ever did you court me this long if you were not interested in our marriage?”

  “I only recently met Miss McAllister, and it never occurred to me that we might not be the perfect match. You were close by, available, and you came highly recommended.”

  “By whom?” Lydia asked in astonishment, seeing herself in his eyes like a prime piece of real estate.

  “Why, your sister Emily always spoke so highly of you. And you have the most charming mother and father. It just seemed like the thing to do.”

  “How flattering,” she said, amused at his denseness.

  “Think nothing of it. It has been a great pleasure knowing you and I hope that you will visit Miss McAlister—but by then she will be Mrs. Howell—and me when we tie the knot. I am sure you will find her to be a charming companion. And she seems eager to make your acquaintance.”

  “I’m sure we will become fast friends.”

  Henry took a deep breath and smiled the first genuine smile she had seen from him. “Well, then. That is that, is it not?”

  “Indeed it is. So, shall we go in to tea?” Lydia suggested.

  “Yes, I am quite parched.”

  * * *

  Lydia was sitting in the sitting room window seat that overlooked the back garden. She was attempting to mend a petticoat hem but was not having much success as her gaze kept wandering to the beauty of the garden in the late afternoon sun and shadows. The casement was open and a soft summer breeze wafted through, enchanting her with its soft caress. She sighed in deep satisfaction and leaned back against the wall, and for a moment was in a state of simple peace.

  It was three weeks after she had announced to the family that her expectations with Mr. Howell had come to naught. She was so relieved, she thought nothing more of it, and had begun to settle into the comfort of being unattached once again with no expectations other than to be a supportive and productive family member.

  Margaret opened the sitting room door.

  “Lydia, if you have a moment Mother and Father would like you to attend to them.”

  Lydia was surprised that Margaret had spoken of ‘mother and father.’ It was so formal. At home, they always spoke of Mamma and Papa.

  “Of course. Where are they?”

  “In Father’s study.”

  “I shall attend to them shortly. But first I must put away my mending or I shall forget it and who knows who might be embarrassed to see a lady’s undergarment lying about the sitting room.”

  “If you like, I can take care of that for you. I don’t think you want to keep them waiting.”

  A most ominous reply, Lydia thought as she gathered her mending together and handed it to Margaret. Lydia glanced at Margaret to see if she could fathom what was going on, but Margaret averted her gaze and wouldn’t look at her.

  What have I done? Lydia thought as she climbed the stairs to her father’s study.

  She knocked on the door.

  “Come,” her father called out.

  Lydia opened the door and entered. Her father was seated at his desk—his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he gazed over them to look at his daughter. Her mother was seated in the comfortable chair by the empty fireplace, fanning herself in the closed room.

  Her mother extended her hand and indicated that Lydia should sit in the chair prepared for her—equidistant from each of her parents. When she was seated, her mother turned to Father for him to begin speaking.

  Lydia was apprehensive of this situation. Again, it was so formal and she felt as though she was at an inquisition with the guillotine about to descend upon her neck.

  “Lydia, we need to have a serious conversation with you,” her father began.

  “Yes, Papa.”

  At the loving and informal ‘Papa,’ her father hesitated but regathered himself when Mother gave him a stern look and nodded for him to proceed.

  “Your mother and I were shocked when you announced that there was to be no engagement between yourself and Mr. Howell.”

  “It was a mutual decision, as I told you previ
ously.”

  “That is as it might be. But the crux of the matter is that you are not to be married and with no other prospects. Is that correct? There is no one else waiting in the wings?”

  “That is correct, Father.” Lydia was not about to be intimidated by this inquiry. She looked over to her mother who frowned but said nothing.

  “Please tell me what is on your minds. I feel like I have committed some terrible crime.”

  Father looked to Mother, who spoke up, as it seemed Father was unwilling to get to the heart of the matter.

  “Emily is married, with a fine husband and with a child on the way. Margaret is engaged and to be married in but a week. And then there is you…”

  “That is certainly true, Mamma. You make it sound like that is the problem.”

  Mother glanced down briefly, as though to gather her thoughts. “Well, not you specifically, but certainly your situation. You are twenty years old. Most young ladies are married or engaged by that age. And now you have diverted a possible engagement…”

  “I most certainly did not divert, Mother. It was Mr. Howell who declared that he had met someone else and wished to marry her.”

  “And why would that be? If you had been more attentive to him… more willing… perhaps he would not have needed to look elsewhere.”

  Lydia stood up and scowled. “So you are blaming me for the failed engagement?”

  “Certainly, not my dear,” her Father said. “But what you don’t understand is that…” He looked down at his desk and adjusted his glasses. “Well, how can I put this?”

  Mother spoke up. “Your father has not managed our paltry living from the church wisely and in short, we cannot afford to continue supporting your living here at home.”

  Lydia was shocked. “Oh… I see.”

  “It has absolutely nothing to do with you, my darling,” Father said. “But I am ashamed to say I have not been a good steward to our family and we have a great deal of debt and thus we must cut back drastically on our expenses.” He looked greatly embarrassed and he pushed again at his eyeglasses.

  Mother spoke up. “We have had to give Lucy notice. That is how serious this matter is.”

  Lydia was stricken now—not with guilt, but with grave concern. “Oh, how can I help? There must be something that can be done.”

  “I have previously written to your Aunt Lavinia. Since she is so recently widowed, we thought she might welcome you as a companion and a housekeeper.”

  Lydia was again in shock.

  “Not as a housekeeper, exactly, but rather as one who can help her maintain a stable home,” Mother said. “She attends the Duchess Patience Templeton of Honeyfield Hall most days, and it is a great strain for her to maintain her own home as well. She has replied in the affirmative, but she says she would not be able to pay you much. But you would have a home and a living. And, in addition, there is a small living from her husband that she has indicated would go to you when she is no longer with us.”

  “If there is any remuneration I shall, of course, pass it on to you, to help in these difficult times,” Lydia said, as her mind whirled with all the implications of these changing circumstances.

  “That would not be necessary,” Father said.

  “That would be most useful,” Mother insisted, giving her husband a stern look.

  “When is this to take place, and how am I to get to… Where exactly does Aunt Lavinia live?”

  “Upton Magna in Shropshire.”

  “So it has been arranged and confirmed?” Lydia asked.

  Father answered. “It has. And you are expected as soon as possible after Margaret’s wedding next week.”

  Lydia could no longer hold back and she began to cry, turning away from her parents and looking out the window at the beautiful garden she must now leave and would sorely miss. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes.

  Her father came over and put his hands on her shoulders and leaned his forehead against the back of her head. “I am so very sorry, my princess. It is my entire fault. But think of it as an adventure and a new life. Surely, you will make new friends and have many wonderful encounters.”

  “Harcourt, leave her be,” Mother said to her father sternly.

  He turned to her and said, demanding—not requesting. “Abigail, don’t you need to see to supper?”

  “Humph,” she uttered and left the room.

  “How am I to get there?” Lydia asked, turning to her father and putting her handkerchief back in her sleeve. She was ready to accept the inevitable and move on.

  “Post carriage. It will require several days and a change of carriage or two but it shouldn’t be too tedious, I trust.”

  “And where shall I stay along the way?”

  “The trip includes accommodations, although, I suspect they will not be very elegant.” Her father went to his desk and opened a drawer. “I have put aside a few pounds for your expenses, which might be able to afford a nicer room if possible.”

  “No, Father. I will not take your money when the family is in dire straits. I have a little money put aside myself, and I shall use that. As I said before, I will do everything I can to send you money. I may be able to take in some sewing work or be able to make some additional money helping some gentlewoman or other once I am settled in Upton Magna.”

  Father came over and put his hand on Lydia’s cheek. “You are the precious jewel of my life. I will miss you greatly.”

  “Papa, I fear for your health. You must promise me to take great care of yourself and Mamma.” She leaned in and embraced him.

  “I promise. Although, at my age, there are aches and pains sprouting up more frequently than weeds in the garden.”

  Lydia kissed her father on both cheeks. “There, that will ward off all toils and troubles, until I can once again come home.”

  Chapter 3

  Lydia’s good friend, Dorothea, was helping her pack the trunk for her journey. She was a petite blonde with naturally curly hair, baby blue eyes, and a pert nose.

  “What am I going to do without you, dearest sister?” Dorothea asked.

  “I shall write you weekly, and you must write back to me. I want to hear all the news of Piddlehinton. I shall be bereft of news unless you write. My mother and Margaret are useless and boring correspondents, and Emily is far too caught up in her new family life to be of any use at all.”

  Dorothea held up a petticoat sadly in need of repair. “Surely you are not taking this?”

  “Oh, no. Put that away. It must be torn up for rags.” She sighed. “But the rest of my undergarments are not much better. I can see that I am going to spend most of my free time during the next few months mending, as there is no possible way I can afford new petticoats or bloomers.”

  Dorothea folded up another petticoat and placed it in the trunk. “What is your Aunt Lavinia like? Do you know her well?”

  “Not at all. She is my grandmother’s sister on my mother’s side. I have never met her, but she writes my mother regularly and always asks that Mother pass on her best wishes to the three daughters. I have no idea what to expect.”

  “I wish I could go with you. I long for an adventure or two.” Dorothea giggled. “What do you know about the young men of the area? Any prospects ripe for plucking, do you think? Are there any military officers in that region?”

  “Dorothea, I have no idea and even less interest. Really, in my situation, with no living and no prospects, I will not be able to attract even the most humble farmer or rat catcher.”

  “Oh, Lydia, how unfair. You are a charming and beautiful young lady of breeding, refined manners, and accomplishments. Surely there must be many young gentlemen who could fall madly in love with you.”

  Lydia gave her a sour look. “Really, you are too extravagant with your fantasies. I have come to terms with my lot in life and shall endure it with perseverance and a good humor.”

  There was a knock at the door and Margaret peeked inside.

 
“What are you two up to?” she asked.

  “Packing my trunk,” Lydia replied.

  “I have just finished all my packing for the wedding. It seems so strange to think that I will not be living here anymore.”

  “Are you excited?” Dorothea asked.

  “It’s all such a whirlwind. I don’t know what I feel, quite honestly.” She came over and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a novel from Lydia’s side table. “Need any help?” she asked, absently.

  It was clear she had no real intention of helping. Lydia speculated that what she really wanted was a good gossip.

  “Will you be staying on in Pulford after the wedding?” Dorothea asked.

  “We will. Charles’s parents have a quite charming cottage on some property down the road from the family home and we shall be setting up house there. His practice is quite close by and I expect he shall be able to come home for dinner at noon each day. It’s been very difficult to be separated, and we look forward to starting up our life together.”

  “It sounds delightful,” Dorothea said. “You must be very happy to be marrying so soon.”

  Margaret cast a warning glance at Dorothea and shook her head, indicating they must not speak about such happiness in front of Lydia who had no such happy prospects.

  Margaret looked up at Lydia. “Mamma says dinner will be served soon, can you leave your packing?”

  Lydia nodded, and then turned to Dorothea, “Can you join us? I am sure there will be plenty. I saw quite luscious beets being pulled from the garden this morning. And I heard a chicken squawking her last cries, meaning she’ll be on the table as well.”

  “Oh, no. I’m expected back home, although it sounds delightful.”

  “I’m off then,” Margaret said, jumping up from the bed. “Now that Lucy is gone, I’m expected to help set out the dinner. Ten minutes?”

  Lydia nodded, and Margaret left the bedroom.

  Dorothea began to tear up. “I’m going to miss you so very much. Will I see you again before you leave?”