Part 9 (2/2)
Lydia reluctantly cut the string on the package with her embroidery scissors and pulled out the boots. It was silly, but she had wanted to...to be alone with the boots. Relive those moments in Regent Street. Read less into what had happened. Or more. ”They're for tramping the Malvern Hills. He's going to show me the entire world from the top of one of them.”
”Oh, he is, is he?” Charlotte said, very nearly crooned. ”Imagine that.” She took hold of one of the boots and turned it about in her hand. ”How strange. The laces are threaded upside-down.”
And that's how Lydia felt. Upside-down. But she didn't say that, not even to Charlotte, who would probably understand. Instead, she told her all about Mr. Sly and his shop, prattling on nervously until she decided she sounded like Jasmine Harburton yet again, upon which she snapped her mouth shut.
Charlotte handed back the boot. ”No, Sarah, not that one,” she said as the maid began folding Lydia's grey morning gown, one she had worn these past three years, not for its style, but for its comfort. ”I think we've seen enough of that gown.”
”But it's one of my favorites,” Lydia protested.
”Yes, I'm sure it is, and it will be fine for the country. If you wish to do some gardening, or decide on a visit to the hen house.”
Sarah had placed the gown in the large trunk heading straight to Ashurst Hall and now Lydia plucked it out again, replacing it in her traveling trunk. ”It will be perfect, then, for tramping across hilltops.”
Charlotte motioned for Sarah to take it out once more. ”Not even for that. Is there no romance in your soul, my dear? The man wishes to take you up in the hills near his home, show you his world. Alone, just the two of you. He's even surprised me by attempting to dress you for the part, which I find, if not exactly romantic, at least very thoughtful of him. Do you honestly suppose he's simply dying to show you all the flora and fauna? I know you've rarely been out of the country, Lydia, but n.o.body is that sheltered.”
Sarah giggled.
”No,” Charlotte went on, casting the maid a quelling look, ”that gown will not do for Malvern, not for any moment of your time there. After all, it would appear that Tanner is not your only suitor. What if one of the gentlemen were to propose marriage to you and you were wearing that tired old gown? Think how embarra.s.sed you'd be.”
Lydia, who was once again in the process of stubbornly removing the gown from the larger trunk, whirled on her sister-in-law. ”n.o.body is going to propose marriage to me. It's a simple country house party until Tanner's cheek heals and the baron is less of a sensation.”
”Are you certain of that?”
”Of course I'm certain of that,” Lydia said, ignoring the rather disconcerting acceleration of her heartbeat. ”If anything, Tanner will be proposing to Jasmine.”
”Really?” Charlotte said, raising one eyebrow. ”Then what do you think would explain Tanner's request to speak privately with Rafe in his study once you had returned from your excursion to the shops?”
”He did what?” The gown dropped from Lydia's suddenly nerveless fingertips. Sarah quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, rolled it into a ball, and kicked it out of sight beneath the bed skirts.
”Why, sweetheart, you've gone rather pale,” Charlotte commented, showing a side of herself Lydia had never seen before, and wasn't sure she liked very much, thank you. ”You didn't know Tanner asked to speak with Rafe? Very much the way, as it happens, the baron asked to speak privately with him a few hours ago. Rafe has been very busy today. You, I believe, will have the same problem at some point in the next week. Being very busy, I mean.”
Sarah giggled, belatedly slapped a hand to her mouth, and scurried out of the bedchamber.
Lydia walked over to her dressing table and sat down, which was better than the alternative: falling down. ”Justin is only teasing. He as good as said so. Speaking to Rafe was only a part of the joke. Not a very funny one, I admit.”
Charlotte shook her head, sighing. ”Is it so impossible, sweetheart, for you to think of yourself as attractive, in both your mind and your appearance? The sort of woman a man would see, be instantly captivated by, so much so that he feels the need to pave the way through Rafe's blessing before very seriously courting you while you're at Malvern?”
”Justin doesn't like women.”
”Really? And yet I have it on rather high authority that he likes women very much. And very often, too, at least from the way Rafe explained the thing to me. Are you saying he prefers-”
”I am not!” Lydia exclaimed, feeling her cheeks go hot. ”I meant he likes women...but he doesn't like women. Oh, I don't know what I'm saying. No, that's not true. I'm saying that Justin was only teasing me. He thinks he's amusing.”
”And he isn't?”
Lydia wanted this conversation over. At least the part about the baron; she might wish to hear more about Tanner's visit with Rafe. ”He's very amusing. The problem is...” she hesitated, thought for a moment, and then said, ”the problem is that he knows it. I think he enjoys himself very much, sometimes at the expense of others. So perhaps I was wrong. He doesn't just not like women. He doesn't like many men, either. Most of all himself.”
Charlotte looked at her with curiosity evident in her eyes. ”I can see you've given the baron a lot of thought. Are you planning to rescue him from himself by any chance? It would be so like you, unfortunately.”
Lydia was surprised by this statement. ”Are you calling me meddlesome?”
”Good Lord, no. I'm saying that you enjoy rescuing people from their own folly. You've spent a majority of your life rescuing Nicole from her mad starts and follies. There are times I have pictured you as a sort of broom, chasing behind people and sweeping up after them. Your sister is grown now, wiser now. And besides, she's no longer your concern. Lucas is delighted with her, mad starts and all. Don't you think it's time you put down that broom and thought more about your own life? Perhaps even consider a few mad starts and adventures of your own?”
Lydia glanced toward the boots. ”I wouldn't know how.”
Charlotte got to her feet and walked over to kiss Lydia's cheek. ”We all know how, sweetheart. We were born knowing. It's only necessary to take off the locks and bars of what we think we're supposed to be and let it all out. After all, we're women, and eminently smarter than men-although we're also smart enough to keep that our little secret. Sometimes, honorable as gentlemen feel themselves required to be, it takes a...a bit of a nudge from the woman who knows what's best for him. And for her, of course.”
”Are you saying-?”
”Me? A woman soon to be a mother?” Charlotte put up her hands in mock horror, and then smiled with all the mischief of a young girl. ”I'm not saying anything at all. But think about what I didn't say, Lydia. Think about letting go, just a little.” She patted her sister-in-law's cheek. ”It may be time for the real Lydia, the Lydia who has been so safe and circ.u.mspect enough for her twin and herself combined to come out and play.”
Once Charlotte had gone, Lydia took up the boots and walked over to the window with them clutched to her bosom. She looked out over Grosvenor Square, and could almost see Lucas Paine's traveling coach driving out of the Square, Nicole waving to her from the window, blowing kisses; full of life, eager for another adventure, this time with the man she loved.
”How does it feel?” she asked the empty Square below her. ”What is it like to just feel? To simply let go and allow events to take you where you have never been, to a place where it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says, but only how you feel?”
You feel like nothing else in the world.
Tanner's touch, and her reaction to it, had felt like nothing else in the world. The shop had faded, all of the world had disappeared in those moments as she looked into his eyes, as his fingers seared her skin through the silk of her stocking. She'd gone warm all over, a melting sensation coursing through her entire body, so that she'd wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and simply feel.
Was that it? Was that what she was missing in her so-circ.u.mspect life? A man's touch? Not the dream, as her brief time with the captain had been, all longing looks and silent sighs. The captain had been her childhood love, her comfortable harbor so that she could continue to believe herself safe, secure.
She felt much less than secure when she looked at Tanner, when he looked at her. She felt off-balance, unsure, and yet terribly excited. She couldn't envision their future, if it would be happy or sad. There were no guarantees; she'd learned that much when Fitz had died.
For nearly a year she'd hidden in her coc.o.o.n, berating herself for not confessing her love for the captain while he was still with her, while at the same time half blaming him for her devastating grief. To love again could mean pain, heartbreak, loss. But to simply not try? Was that living?
You feel like nothing else in the world.
Her carefully constructed coc.o.o.n was no longer comfortable; it had become not her refuge, but her prison. And Tanner was not the captain. He wasn't safe. He affected her as the captain had never done.
Was that so wrong? It didn't feel wrong...
CHAPTER TEN.
”HEIGH-HO, AND AWAY, old friend,” Baron Wilde crowed as he guided his mount beside Tanner's as the traveling coach with the Malvern crest picked out in gold gilt on the side doors moved through the morning fog and out of Grosvenor Square. ”Oh, and look at that scowl, would you? Did you think to take up the two fair ladies and sneak out of town without me?”
”I knew you'd be along at some point, rather like a bad penny that keeps showing up again and again,” Tanner told him facetiously. ”Or did you expect me to send someone to fetch you from the arms of whatever opera dancer took your fancy last evening? You're still in your evening clothes, and looking somewhat the worse for wear for a man who prides himself on his appearance as you do. Long night?”
”Interesting night,” Justin said, rubbing at the morning stubble that darkened his cheeks. ”Brummell's finally managed to do his flit, by the way, flown to Calais, the sanctuary of all the best English debtors. n.o.body knows yet, but since you and I are leaving town, it's safe to tell you.”
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