Page 21 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

For a moment, Lydia wondered if she had taken leave of her senses.

Had the pressures of the past days sent her over the edge?

How long was she to be beset by such incredibly vivid hallucinations?

For there was Captain von Prett, stepping into the room and looking just as striking as he had at the lecture where she had first encountered him, with the famous cowlick that fell just so, heavily marked brows and a distinguished aquiline nose.

His evening attire was perfect in its simplicity: his dark blue coat lay across his shoulders just so, and his satin knee breeches had not a single crease.

For the third time in as many days, Lydia felt her mind grind to a complete, shocked halt.

‘A coup indeed,’ Lady Hesse murmured, watching as Lady Phoebe ushered the captain over the threshold.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Miss Hesse whispered.

‘Such a pleasure to have you with us!’ Sir Waldo boomed with his usual volume, seizing von Prett’s hand in a vigorous handshake. ‘Such a pleasure.’

‘I did not know he looked like that ,’ Lady Morton said sotto voce , stepping away from the window and reaching up to adjust her bodice a touch lower.

‘Lord Dacre, my brother-in-law,’ Lady Phoebe continued, moving Dacre forward.

‘Is he so special looking?’ Lord Hesse said in peevish undertone.

‘I’ve never truly seen the appeal, myself,’ Mr Brandon muttered.

‘You have eyes, don’t you?’ Lady Morton said.

Lydia tore her eyes away from Captain von Prett to look around her.

Everyone else was staring, too, whether in admiration or churlishness.

Even Lady Hesse was trying to subtly fluff up her curls.

That clinched it. Von Prett was real. He was here, in the flesh, and for one long moment, Lydia felt awash with excitement.

She had so wished to renew their acquaintance! Fortune was smiling on her at last and—

‘How interesting .’

Ashford’s voice was extremely close, intimate in tone. Lydia turned to him slowly, knowing that she would not like what she was about to see.

‘I believe that ,’ Ashford said, a seraphic smile sweeping across his face, ‘might constitute some leverage, don’t you think?’

And Lydia remembered where she was.

Remembered why she was here.

Remembered what she was wearing.

‘It’s moments like this,’ Ashford said, as Lady Phoebe began to walk Captain von Prett around the room, so quietly only she could hear him, ‘that one does indeed believe in the power of divine intervention. Would you introduce me to your paramour, Miss Hanworth? As your betrothed, I should so love to meet him.’

This was bad. This was very bad. Too many thoughts were flying around her mind to focus on any single one, and all she was aware of was the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.

She could not have predicted this, this was utterly new territory now, the kind that required several hours to properly absorb, and then several days to re-strategize, but Lady Phoebe was approaching, and Ashford was bowing and Lydia had no more than five seconds before she was going to have to speak to Captain von Prett, and it was becoming very difficult to breathe …

‘May I present Miss Hanworth?’ Lady Phoebe was there.

It took Lydia a moment to remember how to curtsey, and even longer to remember how to speak. She rose, staring – gaping, really, for her mouth was open and she could not seem to close it.

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Hanworth,’ Captain von Prett said, bowing in turn.

‘I – we – we’ve met, before,’ Lydia stammered.

‘Oh!’ Captain von Prett said, a flicker of a frown quickly wiped away. ‘But of course! It was at the, er …’

‘Perhaps you do not recollect the exact encounter?’ Ashford suggested happily.

‘You meet so many people,’ Lydia said, wishing it were appropriate to elbow Ashford in the side. ‘Of course I did not expect—’

‘At Darracott house,’ Captain von Prett said, snapping his fingers in realization. ‘We spoke after my talk.’

‘You remember?’ Lydia beamed. Take that, Ashford.

‘Of course,’ Captain von Prett said. ‘You wished to know more about my dear Emmeline, did you not?’

The captain had lectured on some of the far and foreign shores he had visited, so vividly that one felt one had accompanied him. For Lydia, however, it had been his earnest description of Emmeline, his first love who had tragically died before their marriage, which had made the most impression.

‘Yes,’ she said, rather faintly. His smile was very warm, and in such close proximity, the effect was rather overwhelming. He had remembered her. It was more than she would have dared to hope.

‘I can only wonder that I did not recognize you at once,’ the captain said. ‘Have you have changed your …’

His eyes swung down to the yellow dress and widened.

‘If you are wondering of what the gown reminds you,’ Ashford put in, ‘we decided it was a banana.’

Lydia had never hated anyone as much as she did Ashford in that moment.

‘May I introduce Lady Hesse and Miss Hesse?’ Lady Phoebe said, moving swiftly on.

‘Good evening, sir,’ Lady Hesse said crisply, keeping a protective hand on her daughter’s arm. Miss Hesse was already blushing, as she came forward – prettily, of course. Blast. Charmingly attired in a muslin gown of the softest shade of pink, she looked as fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

‘We have met before, too, have we not?’ the captain asked Miss Hesse, bowing low over her hand.

And if he had spoken to Lydia with the same warmth, he was certainly looking differently at Miss Hesse. Blast, blast, blast . There had never been a worse moment to resemble a fruit.

‘Yes, once,’ Miss Hesse breathed, bobbing a demure curtsey. ‘I am honoured you remember.’

This was not ideal. What on earth was Lydia to do now?

A moment before, her plans for the evening had run the gamut from slurping her soup to referring to Ashford as Your Highness, but she could not very well do that now , in front of the only gentleman for whom she had ever felt a tendre.

She could not embarrass herself in such a way, with Miss Hesse dimpling such sweet smiles and Lady Morton thrusting forward such impressive bosoms.

‘This makes matters far more complicated,’ she said to Pip, as he escorted her to dinner a short while later.

‘Not really.’ Pip twirled his quizzing glass around his finger. ‘Von Prett can’t be the thief – wasn’t here. Stands to reason.’

‘For me ,’ she said. ‘I need to rethink everything.’

The atmosphere, as they filed into the dining room, was thick with excitement.

Once again, Lydia was seated towards the lower end of the table, with Ashford on her right, while Captain von Prett was at the other end, in the seat of honour next to Lady Pheobe.

On the whole, Lydia felt this was to her benefit.

As much as she might wish for further conversation with von Prett, she and Ashford had unfinished business.

‘About that truce,’ she began, very quietly, as they seated themselves.

‘No.’

‘ You suggested it!’

‘You ought to have agreed when you had the chance,’ Ashford said, and he was smiling. ‘I imagine all your little plans are a trifle more complicated with Captain von Prett here to observe.’

Lydia could have throttled him.

‘Before we begin …’ Lady Phoebe beamed around at them all, plainly delighted by the stir the new guest had caused. How long had she been planning this very moment? Days? Weeks? ‘I would just like to say—’

‘A toast to our newcomer!’ Sir Waldo cut across her, raising his glass. ‘Welcome, sir!’

‘Welcome,’ they all intoned, raising their glasses with him.

‘Welcome,’ Lady Phoebe said, a beat later, her smile deflated.

‘Thank you so much,’ Captain von Prett said, pressing a hand to his chest, as if to emphasize how very much he meant it. ‘There is nothing more joyful in the world than breaking bread with one’s friends. I am so glad to be here.’

Spoken by anyone else, the words would have been saccharine, but somehow they did not seem so spoken by von Prett. Having spent so long surrounded by cutting tongues, hidden motives and double meanings, it felt gloriously refreshing – but Lydia was not the only one struck down by admiration.

‘And yet you have deprived us of days of your company,’ Lady Morton said with a pout.

Her burgundy gown was trimmed with a festoon of lace at the bodice, drawing the eye inexorably to her teetering bosoms – both of which she now directed towards Captain von Prett.

From further down the table, Hess glowered.

‘My apologies,’ Captain von Prett said with a smile. ‘I had a speaking engagement in Herefordshire.’

‘Oh, how marvellous!’ Lady Morton said rapturously.

‘I have been to Herefordshire,’ Hesse muttered, ‘for several important meetings.’

‘A less perilous journey than your usual adventures, I should imagine?’ Dacre said, managing to direct an encouraging smile towards the captain and a grateful one to Reeves (refilling his glass) in the space of a single moment.

‘Oh, I do not know,’ the captain said. ‘After all, mileage is no guarantee of adventure.’

All the ladies deemed this Very Profound – Miss Hesse even let out a rapturous sigh – the gentlemen significantly less so.

‘Come, sir, mileage does help a little,’ Sir Waldo protested. ‘I ought to know!’

The captain shook his head gently. ‘In my experience it is the journey within that matters most. “Knowledge dwells in heads replete with thoughts of other men; wisdom in minds attentive to their own.”’

‘William Cowper?’ Lydia leant forward to catch his eye.

‘Yes,’ the captain said, turning to beam at her. ‘He is my very favourite poet.’

‘Mine too,’ Lydia said eagerly. Goodness, if that was not a sign then she did not know what was.

‘Forgive me,’ Ashford said. ‘But I thought you hated all poetry?’

Lydia had almost forgotten about Ashford.

‘You must be thinking about someone else,’ she said without looking at him.

‘You disavowed the whole form just yesterday,’ Lady Morton confirmed.