Part 11 (1/2)
Still, she'd certainly have to blame something for her outlandish behavior out there on the road with Tanner, so it might as well be an inanimate object like a hat. Every time she'd opened her mouth a part of her had been astounded at the words she heard herself saying. And then she'd touched his cheek. Simply reached up and touched him. The gesture had seemed so right, so natural. He was so earnest, so sincere, telling her he would never hurt her.
And all when she was wis.h.i.+ng he would grab her, crush her against him, give life to the feelings that were bubbling so close beneath her surface these past days. In the solitude of her rooms, lying in her bed, picturing his face...she had felt the same stirrings she'd experienced when she'd touched him moments ago, heat burning through her glove, searing her. Searing him, as well?
She thought it might. No, she knew it did. He wanted her, as Nicole would term the thing. Carnally. He wanted her body. She'd be an utter fool not to know that, sense that.
She wanted his body. His mouth on hers. His hands on her body, teaching her, awakening her as she so longed to be awakened. She wanted to understand these longings, this surprising awareness of her body whenever he looked at her.
Lydia was not a fool. She knew she wasn't simply driving down to Malvern to see the sights, or to bear Jasmine and Justin company, make up the fourth in a casual game of whist after supper.
They'd be alone, she and Tanner, at some point. Even if that meant tramping the hills until he stopped being so honorable and careful and gentle with her. Even if that meant she had to give him a nudge.
”All right, Lydia, your turn,” Jasmine trilled, already ruching up her skirts. ”I'll just step behind this screen and...well, do you mind if I use it first?”
It took a moment for Lydia's mind to drag itself away from what were definitely uncommon thoughts for her and back to the mundane. ”There's only the one?”
Jasmine's voice came from behind the screen. ”Oh, no, look at that. There are two. How thoughtful. Now I don't feel so bad about racing ahead of you. But I had to go so badly, for at least the last half hour. I thought about knocking on the panel and informing the coachman, but how does one say anything so intimate to a man? Certainly I couldn't do it. There,” she said, coming out from behind the screen and once more unerringly heading for the wash basin. When she was done, she picked up the second clean linen towel and used it before tossing it onto the floor, as she had the first one.
Looking at the two crumpled towels after she'd been behind the screen, and then lifting the pitcher, to learn that Jasmine has used up all the water, Lydia felt a little niggle somewhere inside her. A small but growing suspicion that possibly Jasmine wasn't entirely the sweet, silly widget she appeared. For all her prattling and confessions of nervousness, she certainly did seem able to plow forward and get exactly what she wanted.
Like the front-facing coach seat, which she hadn't offered to share until Lydia had expressly asked her to move her skirts (spread from side-to-side), so that she could ride facing the horses, as well. And then there was the matter of the small basket of sugared rolls Tanner had ordered packed and placed in the coach for the two of them. Or there had been. When Lydia had decided to try one, as the sweet smell lingered inside the closed coach, it was to find that Jasmine had already eaten them all on the way to Grosvenor Square. Yes, she'd apologized quite prettily, saying she was such a selfish pig and so ashamed-but the sugared rolls were still gone, weren't they?
Now there were the towels, and the clean water, and even the chamber pot, if there had been just one.
She mentally scolded herself for thinking badly of a young woman who could be considered rather thoughtless and even ill-mannered, but who could certainly not be termed selfish. Although she did, one way or another, always seem to get what she wanted, didn't she? Even as she protested she didn't want any of it.
Like a Season in London.
Like all her pretty gowns.
Like the Malvern jewels she wore around her neck.
Like Tanner?
Picking up one of the towels and taking up the soap, Lydia looked over her shoulder and said conversationally, ”You must be so anxious to get to Malvern.”
”I must?” Jasmine frowned prettily as she patted at her curls, but then smiled. ”Oh, yes. I am so much more comfortable in the country. Tanner is a dear to give me this respite from all of the hustle and bustle.”
”I meant you must be anxious to see...your friend.”
”How did you-oh!” Jasmine lowered her eyelids, and Lydia could actually watch the progress of a flattering blush rus.h.i.+ng into her cheeks. ”Oh. You mean Br-Bruce. No, I cannot think of him,” she declared at last, dramatically. ”I must not.”
Had the girl been holding her breath, forcing color into her cheeks? No, that was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous, Lydia told herself.
”That's his name? Bruce?”
Jasmine nodded empathetically, biting her bottom lip while bright tears gathered in her eyes. ”I'd really rather not say.”
All right, that was more than enough! She hadn't lived with Nicole for over eighteen years without being able to tell when she was being put on. And Jasmine wasn't half so accomplished in the art of deception as was Lydia's twin.
She dried her hands on the small dry spot left on the towel, and then folded it and laid it beside the basin. ”Tell me about him, please. Tell me about Bruce. For instance, does he have a last name?”
”I didn't know you could be so mean, Lydia, to force me to-very well, if I must. It's Beattie. Bruce Beattie. Oh, but it makes me so sad to speak of him.”
Force yourself, Lydia thought meanly, but only said, ”Is he a laborer on the Malvern estate? Is that how you met him?”
Jasmine shook her head. ”He...he's the schoolmaster in Greater Malvern, which is very close by our small estate, and Tanner's, of course. We...we met at church.”
”A schoolmaster? That's a very respectable occupation.”
Jasmine sighed piteously. ”Not when your father dreams of seeing his only child made a d.u.c.h.ess. But I've told you all of that.”
”The deathbed request, yes. I remember. You have much to be sad about, Jasmine,” Lydia said, pulling out pins in preparation of taking off her hat, even though it hadn't moved a bit since Sarah had first pinned it to her curls. But she wished to be alone with her thoughts for a few minutes and was even willing to sacrifice the hat to that purpose. ”And I'll wager that my insensitive questions have quite robbed you of your appet.i.te.” The questions, and a full basket of sugared rolls.
”I suppose so. But I can't allow myself the indulgence of turning maudlin. Tanner would notice-he always does-and would ask questions of his own. I will have to force myself to eat. Will you soon be ready to go downstairs?”
Lydia had two pins clamped between her teeth, but managed to tell Jasmine to go on without her, and inform the gentlemen that she'd be down directly.
Once alone in the room, her gaze went to the reticule Jasmine had left lying on the bed along with her gloves and bonnet.
No. She wouldn't do it. She wasn't a snoop. In addition, she was thinking unlovely things about a girl whose only sin was a bit of thoughtlessness. Along with a penchant for melodrama...and sugared rolls.
She left her hat on the dresser and slowly approached the bed, clasping and unclasping her hands, her palms itching to pick up the reticule, pull open its drawstring closing, and take a peek inside. Ladies often carried some of their most favorite keepsakes with them at all times. Didn't she still have the piece of blue ribbon pinned inside her own reticule?
Nicole would do it. In a heartbeat, Nicole would do it. If she wanted to know something, she never stopped to consider if the thing was right or wrong. It would only, to Nicole, be necessary.
”Oh, the devil with it,” she breathed at last, tossing good manners to one side and s.n.a.t.c.hing up the reticule.
The first thing she saw when she looked inside was a single sugared roll. No wonder she'd been able to smell the rolls long after they were gone. Because they hadn't all been gone, had they?
All reluctance to snoop deserted Lydia at the sight of that sugared roll. With narrowed eyelids and new determination she pushed her hand past it to see a lace-edged handkerchief, a small mirror, three silver coins, and a much-folded piece of paper.
It was the paper she withdrew and unfolded as she walked to the window and the sunlight. ”What fine penmans.h.i.+p, just as a schoolmaster should have,” she said, her voice sounding loud in her own ears. And then she began to read...
My beloved, As I lay here in my lonely prison, the intoxicating taste and sweet musky scent of you still mocking me, our hungers only momentarily slaked, my loins grow taut with desire, already antic.i.p.ating our next pa.s.sionate coupling- Lydia gasped and quickly closed her eyes, whether at the meaning of the words or the overblown ridiculous nature of them she didn't know. She should stop reading right now, right this very moment.
Really. She should.
-I wonder if, even now, you know how securely you hold my heart, as well as my body. We will be together soon, forever. No more clandestine meetings, no more hurried loving fraught with the danger of discovery. I weep when I must leave you, I berate myself for a coward and a fool each moment we are apart. Soon, sweet angel, soon. I promise you I shall l find a way. We will fly these damp sh.o.r.es forever, you and I, and you will be my queen in Paris for all of our days.
Your beloved, always, The note was signed simply with a large, flowering letter B.
Lydia noticed that another line followed that signature. P.S. Remember what you promised. The key to our future, my darling.
The request made no sense, and Lydia dismissed it as unimportant when measured against the rest of the nonsense she'd just read. She folded the letter once more, careful to make use of the same creases, and with shaking fingers replaced it in the reticule.
Shame on Bruce Beattie! Taking advantage of a naive young girl, making her promises he couldn't keep, all while stealing her virginity from her, knowing full well that her father would never allow the marriage.