The Mysterious Miss Lydia, page 9
He felt as though his heart had gone with her.
Which made no sense at all, obviously.
He started to go after her, but Sir Cedric’s hand came down on his arm. “We are not through discussing this,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Cedric,” his wife said, alarm and a false note of laughter in her voice. “Is something the matter?”
“Not at all,” Luke answered for the man, calling on years upon years of hiding behind a charming smile and laughing eyes. “Sir Cedric and I had a misunderstanding, that’s all.”
He turned to the other man, who wasn’t nearly as easily fooled. But he kept the smile in place and shook his head. “You misunderstood me, Sir Cedric.”
His former employer’s brows drew down in a scowl. “Did I?”
“Indeed, I was not pointing to...” He cleared his throat and glanced at the others meaningfully.
Sir Cedric’s nostrils flared and his lips quivered, but after a moment, he dropped his hand from Luke’s arm. “That was your last mistake, Lord Galena.”
He said it softly, so only Luke could hear.
It gave him a pang, but his mind and his heart were too anxious to leave to give it too much thought. He turned to bow for the ladies. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Oh, but—” Lydia’s sister started.
He pretended he didn’t hear her as he followed in the direction Lydia had disappeared.
12
The library was always a sanctuary, but never more so than right now.
Lydia sank to her bottom beside the bookcase and rested her cheek against a row of Shakespeare’s tragedies.
She hadn’t brought a candle with her, and the moonlight coming through the window didn’t give much light, but she’d spent so much time in this room, she knew where each book lay on every shelf like the back of her hand.
She heaved a sigh. How long could she hide here before her mother sent someone to find her?
Lud, but she hoped she didn’t send Wendell. She couldn’t bear any more of his pleasantries.
How funny it was, she thought with absolutely no amusement. She’d spent her whole childhood wishing Wendell would be kind to her.
And now he was and she couldn’t stand it.
She heard footsteps approaching the door and held her breath.
Maybe they’d send Miss Farthington. Or Mary. Oh, how she would love to see a friendly face right about now.
She lifted hands to touch the burning heat of her cheeks as the footsteps receded.
He’d been teasing her, that was all she could figure. But she still had so many questions. Why did her father seem so angry? And if this was the noble, chivalrous, oh-so-wonderful viscount she’d heard so much about, why had he sought her out the way he had?
She rubbed at her temples but froze all over again when she heard it once more. The footsteps were coming back this way.
She started to scramble backward, toward the back of the library just as the door swung open.
For a moment all she could make out was a tall form, backlit by the light of the hallway. But then, with a muffled oath, the newcomer stepped out into the hallway and came back carrying a candle.
She gasped. And like a dolt, she gave away her presence here.
“Miss Lydia?” Lord Galena managed to say her name in that way of his. That droll, charming way that made it seem like everything was a joke.
No, she was a joke. At first, she’d thought perhaps Imogene had put him up to it. She could just hear her sister laughing over Lydia thinking that a dashing hero like Lord Galena had actually been interested in her. But that didn’t make any sense.
Imogene would rather cut off all her hair then willingly send a viscount to dance with her pitiful sister.
“Miss Lydia?” he tried again.
Was it her imagination or was his gaze directly on her.
It couldn’t be. She was well hidden in the dark.
She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned back against the books. He’d go away soon enough.
But he didn’t go away. He walked farther into the room. He strode right past her to the end table beside two armchairs before the fireplace and set the candle down.
She held her breath.
“Either some servant left a lump of dirty laundry in a most unfortunate place beside the bookcase, or my dance partner has come in here to hide.”
Her lips parted in surprise at his comment, her breath catching and sounding absurdly loud in this silence.
She couldn’t see much of him because he’d left the small circle of the candle’s light to sit in one of the chairs. All she could make out was his profile as he lounged back as if making himself comfortable as he waited for a response.
From her.
The thought would normally make her tongue swell and her pulse hammer. But with the cover of dark keeping her hidden from his view, and unable to see his disturbingly handsome features…
“Did you just call me a lump of laundry?”
His chuckle filled the air. “A lump of dirty laundry. And yes.”
She pulled her legs up, her lips quivering with the urge to smile. “That’s a horrible thing to call someone.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” he returned.
She pursed her lips. It had goaded her into speaking. And now that the silence was broken, she found that she was rather comfortable sitting here in the darkness and surrounded by his quiet.
Not everyone was the good sort of quiet. Some people were uneasy with silence, and that feeling was infectious.
It was a rare treat to sit in companionable silence. Though her mind had never ceased trying to make sense of all that had transpired between them, she found her fears dissipating the longer he sat in silence.
Finally, she said, “You’re not saying anything.”
“Neither are you.”
She nodded. Fair point. She rested her chin on her knees as she considered the dark space where he sat, seemingly unmoving. She had so many questions…
And for once, her tongue wasn’t too tied to ask them.
The thought made her smile a little, despite everything. Who knew that all it took was the shield of darkness to ease her awkward ways?
If only she’d known. A little chuckle escaped her, breaking the silence.
“What’s so amusing?” His tone was wry, and she was sure she heard his smile, if that was possible.
And to her amazement...she answered. Without stress or fretting or her tongue swelling. Blessed be the darkness! “I was just thinking,” she said slowly, as if her lips had to learn how to speak like a normal person. “If I’d known it was so much easier to talk to people in the cover of darkness, I might have started creeping in the shadows years ago.”
Silence.
She winced slightly and buried her face against her skirts. She sounded like a lunatic.
But then he laughed, and it wasn’t mean. Not in the least. “So, you are shy then, is that it?”
“Painfully so.”
“I see.”
He went quiet.
“What do you see?” she finally asked.
“I thought...” He cleared his throat. “Oh, you likely don’t want to know what I thought.”
“Indeed I do!” she said, surprising herself with not only the quickness of her response, but how forcefully it came out. “I find I am most confused by your behavior.”
“I can only imagine,” he sighed.
“I’d thought at first that perhaps you’d set out to...to...”
“To what, Lydia?” he murmured, his voice gentle. And even though it was likely wrong that he was using her given name like this, it felt right.
It put her even more at ease. She drew in a deep breath as that registered. “I thought perhaps it was a joke. That you were...”
He was quiet for a moment. “That I was being cruel in seeking you out the way I did?”
She nodded. Which was silly since he couldn’t see her. But he seemed to understand, nonetheless.
“I wasn’t being cruel, Lydia. Not intentionally, at least.”
She swallowed hard. “Then...”
He sighed. “I was an idiot.”
“I’m sure you weren’t,” she started. She stopped when she realized he could have been. What did she know?
“I was. For a man who’s always prided himself on his intellect, I have been a complete fool where you’re concerned.”
“Explain, please,” she said softly.
At first, she thought he wouldn’t. But then suddenly he was regaling her with a tale of espionage that left her jaw hanging open and her lungs short of breath.
“You think...” she started.
But she didn’t even know where to begin.
“Yes,” he said, as if he knew the question.
“But...do you honestly think Wendell is the traitor?” she asked, her voice high with shock.
He went quiet and she hurried to assure him, “I won’t repeat that. You have my word.”
He exhaled sharply. “I do. But your father is right that I have no proof.”
“It’s just your...your instincts,” she said.
“Mmm.”
She sat with that for a moment. She’d never once thought to consult her instincts. “I’m not entirely sure I have instincts.”
He laughed. “Of course you do. You just haven’t learned to listen to them.”
“Possibly for the best,” she shot back. Surprising herself once again with her quick speech. “I wouldn’t want to accuse the wrong person of espionage.”
“Ouch,” he muttered, but she heard his smile.
“Aren’t you going to ask me about anything else?” he asked.
There was that amusement again. It made her smile. “Did you really think that I was an actress and some traitor’s...mistress?”
She heard him wince, but she...
She laughed.
Clapping a hand over her mouth, she tried to squelch it. She truly did. But it bubbled up and she was helpless against it. “I’m sorry, it’s just...”
“You are a redhead,” he pointed out.
She laughed harder.
“And you must admit, the timing of it all....” He trailed off, his tone pouting, but she heard the laughter there.
He was poking fun at himself for her benefit. To make her laugh harder.
And goodness, how she laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said when the laughter trailed off. “No one has ever mistaken me for anything before, let alone...” She silenced another giggle.
“You’re offended,” he said.
“Oh no,” she cried. “I’m...” She searched for a word to describe how she felt. “Delighted.”
She heard him move. “Now I know you’re lying. You’re trying to make me feel better.”
“I would never,” she said soundly, and then they both burst out laughing.
“Truly,” she continued. “I’ve always read about adventure and mystery, but I’ve never taken part in one. I know I wasn’t an active participant, really.” She added, “I wasn’t even aware it was happening, and yet...at least for a little while I was involved in the sort of adventure I typically only read about.”
She trailed off with a sigh. Her one and only brush with adventure.
And she’d not played the heroine, but the fool.
“Yes, see...” His voice grew earnest. “That was the other matter. The book you dropped during our first interaction.”
“Demetrius and Elsbeth?” Her brows drew together in confusion.
“That’s the one.” He went on to explain the connection there and she found herself gaping at his dark shadow.
“May I see it?” she asked, her heart rattling with something she didn’t understand. It wasn’t fear. That she was used to. Was this...excitement?
“You wish to see the note I found when I ran into you outside your father’s office?”
“Yes.” She stood, walking toward him in the dark as her mind worked, retracing steps and putting pieces together with a rather disconcerting deftness. “Because a redheaded woman bumped into me that day. She may have dropped it. And if so, I’d like to see what it says.”
She didn’t have to see his face to know he was staring at her with fierce intensity as she moved toward the sound of his voice.
“After all, why would anyone be carrying around just one passage of a novel? It makes no sense.”
He shifted in the dark. “Lydia, are you telling me...you may have met the actual conspirator?”
Was she saying that?
She paused. Her heart raced.
But not with fear.
Oh no.
She grinned in the dark.
This was the most alive she’d ever felt in her entire life. “I think that’s precisely what I’m saying.”
13
Luke was in the most dangerous predicament of his life.
Considering he’d been held at gunpoint by a crazed, angry insurrectionist, this was saying something.
But this... Alone in the dark with a sweet, innocent, unmarried young lady.
If they were caught it would surely lead to marriage.
He waited for the swift jolt of alarm the thought of marriage typically brought with it. For marriage, to his mind, was the beginning of the end.
But the alarm bells never rang and while his heart did give a sharp thud in response to the thought of being caught alone with Lydia, he couldn’t say for certain it was a bad feeling.
It felt more like eagerness than fear.
But that couldn’t be right.
He took a deep breath and tugged at his cravat. Blast, where had his mind gone? He’d never trap a young lady into marriage, and his still being here was putting her in that precarious position.
Whether or not he minded the prospect of the parson’s noose, he owed it to her to put an end to this odd little tete-a-tete.
His heart reacted to that thought, as well...by dipping low with disappointment.
He didn’t want this to end. This time together had felt like a moment out of the ordinary. Like something singular and special. Her laughter. Her curious perspective on the matter at hand...
She was like no lady he’d ever met before and he was overcome with the urge to find out everything there was to know about her. Equal to that was the urge to protect her...
Even if it meant from himself.
The protective instinct won out and he took a step backward. “While that is very interesting, indeed...”
No, it was more than interesting. His brain was racing as he saw her form shift in the shadows, moving closer toward the light.
His heart raced with eagerness. He needed to see her again. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach for her, to tear off that mask that kept her hidden, to pull her into the light and into his arms and—
“What if it is a code?” she asked. The curiosity in her voice cut into his thoughts. He’d thought it himself, of course.
“If it is, it’s none I’ve seen before,” he said. “I don’t claim to be an expert on encryptions, but there was no code I could detect.”
“I’d still like to see it.” The eagerness in her voice made his lips curve up. With each moment he spent in her company, he discovered more.
He liked her more.
His heart gave a phenomenal whomp as if to say ‘that, my friend, is an understatement.’
He cleared his throat. This little interlude, alone in the dark, might feel like some moment out of time, but soon enough they would rejoin the real world, and it was time he truly thought about that.
She wasn’t a mistress or an actress—she was the furthest thing from it. She was a young lady. Sheltered and defenseless in the world that he lived in.
He found himself standing there, unmoving. For the first time in his life, he was uncertain of how to move forward. How to keep her safe.
How to keep her in his life.
She shifted with impatience. He didn’t have to see her to hear her fidgeting. “I’m not sure I ought to involve you in this,” he started slowly.
He could hear his own disappointment. Which was ridiculous.
But truly he wished for nothing more than to share this mystery with her. To hear her thoughts. To continue this conversation.
Perhaps it was her quiet demeanor, but being allowed into her thoughts, into her private world...
It felt like the greatest privilege of his life.
How many others had heard her laugh as he had? How many had heard her talk so openly?
Few, he imagined. His heart swelled with an affection that was overwhelming.
He was one of the lucky few.
“Please,” she said. “I know nothing of coded messages, but I do know Elsbeth and Demetrius.” She stepped into the candlelight and the soft, orange glow made her seem like an angel, or some fairy who only appeared in the soft shadows of night.
She didn’t look of this world.
She didn’t belong in his world. What kind of knave would draw a sweet angel into a world of lies and deceit?
“I’ve already involved you too much as it is.” His voice sounded far too gruff. “We shouldn’t be speaking alone like this.”
Her lips quirked up as her head went to the side as if she were trying to make sense of him. “Oh, come now, Lord Galena,” she said, and sweet heavens he felt her voice wrap around him like a sweet, intimate embrace. “We’ve already been alone together most indecently—multiple times, I might add. We’ve danced without being introduced and, let us not forget, you accused me of being a traitorous mistress.”
He let out a shocked laugh at that and was rewarded when her smile grew, making his heart beat that much faster.
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m afraid you and I have already crossed the line into improper ages ago.”
He narrowed his eyes to study her better in this dim light. He wished more than anything that he could tug off that mask and draw her into the candlelight even farther. “You don’t seem overly upset by my improper behavior.”
Her smile widened and she ducked her head. “I don’t, do I?”
It sounded as though she were speaking more to herself than him.
