Page 42 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘This is nonsense,’ Ashford said. ‘Another farce.’

‘It is not a farce,’ Lydia said. ‘I promise.’

Ashford scrubbed a hand across his face. They were seated in front of the fire again and had just finished relaying the whole tale to him.

‘If the diamonds are gone, why have you not informed Lady Phoebe?’

‘Because suspicion would fall upon Elspeth in the first instance,’ Pip said. ‘She has the only key.’

‘It was not her,’ Lydia said. ‘That you must believe.’

‘Of course it wasn’t,’ Ashford said. ‘She’d have been better making off with the silver teaspoons – and you know, Phoebe would have believed her.’

‘But would she believe it’s Sir Waldo who’s taken the necklace?’ Pip demanded.

‘No, because that’s ridiculous,’ Ashford said. ‘Waldo gave it to her in the first place – why would he then take it?’

‘Would it even count as stealing?’ Lydia wondered. ‘If he bought it in the first place.’

‘Well, yes,’ Ashford said reluctantly. ‘All Waldo’s engagement gifts were named as Phoebe’s in the marriage settlement – in the case of his death or their divorce, they belong to her, not the estate.’

‘You see!’ Pip slapped a hand upon the table.

‘It proves nothing,’ Ashford said. ‘I am still not certain it constitutes a crime.’

‘Even if it does not,’ Pip said, ‘it’s still a mystery . You heard Reeves – Waldo is receiving letters from a Mr Villars, the same name as on the letter I found. I don’t know who this Mr Villars is, but he’s blackmailing him for something.’

‘You and I also heard Waldo asking Dacre for money,’ Lydia said to Ashford, ‘threatening him.’

Pip looked up, sharply.

‘When was this?’ he demanded.

‘When we were stuck in the parlour,’ Lydia said. She turned to Ashford, appealing. ‘Do you remember?’

‘I do,’ Ashford said, reluctantly.

‘Something is afoot!’ Pip said triumphantly. ‘And it involves the diamonds, that’s for certain.’

‘Is it?’ Ashford said. ‘It’s loose, sir, very loose.’

‘If we do nothing,’ Pip said, uncharacteristically serious, ‘and something is afoot – Elspeth’s life is at risk.’

‘And he is about to leave the country with your cousin,’ Lydia said. ‘On a six-week voyage to a place where she knows no one. Don’t you wish to know the truth before she leaves?’

‘He adores her,’ Ashford said. ‘He has a temper, but …’

‘But …’ Lydia agreed.

She thought of the naked rage in his eyes as he had struck the horse, the redness of his face when he had lost his temper over snuff, the mean bite to his tone when he had threatened Dacre.

Remembered all the little ways he had put Lady Phoebe down over the course of one weekend alone.

Individually, the incidents might be small, but as a collective … They built an unpleasant image.

‘Elspeth has definitely checked everywhere in the room?’ Ashford asked weakly.

Pip stared at him, then to Lydia, and then back again.

‘Not sure you’re cut out for this work,’ Pip said. ‘Double checking is the first thing one does. Stands to reason.’

‘Then the next thing we must do, is find this Mr Villars,’ Ashford said. ‘You may leave the matter with me. Once the house party is concluded I shall return to London and—’

‘Fact is, no time,’ Pip interrupted.

‘Lady Phoebe intends to wear the necklace at the masquerade,’ Lydia said. ‘If it is discovered missing before we have answers …’

‘I could make it to London and back in time, with a fast horse,’ Ashford said. ‘Assuming Villars – whoever he is – tells me anything.’

‘Perhaps I ought to go,’ Pip said. ‘I can get Mr Simmons to join me, and they’ll have a hard time denying Bow Street.’

‘Meanwhile, we will continue searching here,’ Lydia said. ‘For the necklace or other proof – perhaps the letters Reeves mentioned.’

‘If there are any remaining,’ Ashford said, ‘they will be in his study – which he keeps locked at all times.’

‘Lock’s unpickable,’ Pip said. ‘I already tried.’

‘Then we shall get inside some other way,’ Ashford said. ‘Won’t we?’

He looked to Lydia for confirmation, and something about the way he did it – with utter confidence in their ability to achieve such a thing together – had Lydia’s heart clenching.

‘Yes,’ she said.

Pip rose from his chair.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I shall leave at first light.’

‘We will make your excuses,’ Lydia promised.

Pip nodded and hastened towards the door, closing it softly behind him.

‘I cannot believe I am indulging him,’ Ashford muttered to himself. ‘It’s pure conjecture, riddled with holes – the ramblings of a madman.’

‘Perhaps,’ Lydia said. ‘But Pip is correct. Whatever is going on, the consequences look set to land upon Elspeth – and perhaps Phoebe, too.’

‘Why are you indulging this?’ Ashford said. ‘You have only just met these people.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘And there was a moment where I doubted it just as you did. But it would not be right to leave Elspeth and Phoebe to weather it alone. If we can help, we must try – Pip has shown me that.’

She walked over to the fire, holding her taper candle to the embers. She did not much relish trying to find her way back in the dark.

‘You did not seem surprised,’ Ashford said, ‘about Mr Hanworth.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I knew.’

‘Are he and this Simmons character … together?’ Ashford asked.

She understood his curiosity but though she had discovered she trusted Ashford, more than she would ever have expected at the beginning of the week, there were some confidences that did not belong to her.

‘You did not seem that surprised, either,’ she said instead.

‘It is not uncommon,’ Ashford said. ‘I have a cousin who prefers the company of men, as well – in our circles, it is easier, I think. People generally know to look the other way, though it is not spoken of openly, of course, the stakes being so high.’

The stakes were mortal.

‘How hard it must be,’ she said, thinking of Dacre and Reeves, ‘to hide their love in such a way.’

She finally got the taper to light, and turned back around, cupping her hand around the flame.

‘It makes what we’ve been doing seem rather trivial,’ she said, not looking at him.

‘I suppose it does,’ he said after a pause, stooping to light his own candle against hers.

‘Do you think we shall be able to do it, tomorrow?’

‘I do,’ he said. ‘When we are not behaving deplorably, we work well together.’

‘You think so?’

‘I do,’ he said. ‘Given the circumstances surrounding our engagement, I think we get on rather well.’

It was the first time he had referred to their engagement without frustration. It was the first time she had heard it without feeling anger.

She took an unsteady inhale. ‘That’s true.’

‘We can speak on many subjects,’ he added.

‘We can,’ she agreed.

‘And while I proposed without knowing much of the real you,’ he said, ‘I do, now.’ Raising his eyes from the candle, he looked directly at her. ‘My father arrives tomorrow, intending to announce our engagement at the masquerade.’ He paused. The longest pause of Lydia’s life. ‘I wish to let him.’

‘You – you do?’ she breathed, hardly daring to believe her ears.

‘Yes. In fact, I …’ He took in a steadying breath. She waited, heart in her throat, not sure what she wanted him to say only that she would not interrupt, now. Could not, had her life depended upon it.

‘I think – I think we might be friends,’ he finished.

Lydia felt as if she had been doused with water.

‘I think we might be friends, if we allowed ourselves,’ he said. ‘I think we might deal well together.’

Lydia looked down. It was not disappointment. It was not. It could not be, because she did not – she did not –

Except she did , didn’t she? Lydia could not pinpoint the exact moment she had begun to look at Ashford differently, but she could no longer deny that her sentiments, somewhere along the line, had undergone a change.

Perhaps there was no single moment, rather a collection of tiny instances – biting exchanges and shared laughter, lingering glances and unexpected confidences, brushing shoulders and quickening heartbeats – strung together as beads onto a necklace, and now …

Perhaps it ought to be reassuring that he no longer hated her, but somehow, Ashford’s tepid words hurt far more than any of the insults he had ever thrown at her.

Lydia opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. ‘Friendship is not quite what I am after.’

She was proud of the steadiness of her voice. It was a far cry from how she felt.

‘It is a fair foundation to build a marriage,’ he said, cheeks flushing. ‘It is more than most people have.’

‘That is true,’ she allowed, for it was , and she knew, too, what was said – that deeper affection would grow, in time.

But friendship was no substitute for what Lydia had always wanted from life – what she now realized she wanted, from him.

And yet … She hesitated, trying to parse through her confused thoughts, her conflicting instincts.

After all her effort to be rid of him, after all the horrid things she had done and said, in the pursuit of freedom, it should feel easy to decline his offer – yet now it came to it, she found she did not wish to lose him, after all.

‘But I am not most people,’ she said, at last. Lydia raised her gaze, again, to look him directly in the eye. ‘It is not enough for me.’

However much had changed, these past days, this had not. However much it hurt to deny him, she could not betray herself in such a way.

‘Is this about Prett again?’ he asked. ‘Surely you do not …?’

‘No, I do not,’ she admitted. ‘He is not who I thought he was, but that does not mean that I cannot fall in love elsewhere.’

Her cheeks reddened to speak so openly, but she raised her chin and held his gaze nonetheless.

‘How even you have swallowed such stuff!’ Ashford muttered, running a hand, agitated, through his hair.

‘Swallowed?’ she repeated. ‘You think I have been … duped in some way?’

‘It is not your fault,’ he said. ‘Ladies have such unrealistic ideals shoved at them from the moment they are born, books and tales and talk of romance – it pains me that you are so enthralled by it, for it prevents you from rational decisions.’

‘You think us so gullible?’ she asked. ‘Such fools?’

‘I think you are allowing sentiment to distract you from considering marriage a business deal,’ he said. ‘One you should consider and negotiate for the changes to your life that it will bring.’

‘How charitable you are,’ she said. ‘To have our best interests at heart – do give yourself a pat upon the back, my lord.’

Rising temper sent sharpness back to her tongue.

‘I am on your side,’ Ashford insisted.

‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘And yet here you are, a man, still telling me, a woman, how I ought feel, and behave. You’ll forgive me if I struggle to tell the difference.’

‘That is not what I—’ He broke off, frustrated.

‘We are two adults, who can speak honestly with one another, who might enter into such a union with open eyes. If we might agree upon a deal that works for us both – why, that would be a rare and beautiful thing, Miss Hanworth.’ He stopped, and stared at her, expression entreating. ‘Surely you understand that?’

‘Here is what I understand,’ Lydia said.

‘You are asking me to marry you. To take your name. To legally cease to exist as a person myself. You are asking me to leave my family and absorb myself into yours, to leave my life and fold myself around your habits, your needs, your preferences. You are asking me to walk one step behind you, for the remainder of my days, to hand my freedom and my finances into your keeping.’

He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand to forestall him.

‘You are asking me to risk my life bearing your children. Children, who at first breath would not belong to me, but to you, to be raised and educated and moulded according to your vision and desire. You are asking for all this and more. And I – I only ask for one thing: for love. For dancing, courting, flirting … Yet you think I am the one with unrealistic expectations? Tell me, Ashford, were the situation reversed – would you take that deal?’

She held his gaze and the silence. He did not try to speak.

‘Once Pip and I both come of age, I will have income enough to live out my days unmarried,’ she said. ‘The only reason I should ever consider entering the matrimonial state would be for some grand love affair. When the risk to my life and happiness is so high, why ought I settle for anything less?

Ashford looked as if he were having difficulty swallowing.

‘I own, I – I had never thought of it in such a way,’ he said, at last.

‘That much is very clear,’ she said. ‘Those are my terms, my lord. How do you answer?’

Even after all his damning utterances thus far, there was still a part of Lydia which harboured some morsel of hope as she stared at him, waiting for his response.

‘I could not,’ he said, at last, though his eyes would not meet her own. ‘I could never give you such a thing.’

‘Never?’

‘If I had thought there the veriest chance of such a thing,’ he said. ‘I should never have proposed in the first place.’

She tried to speak, but – finding she could not quite remember how – nodded, then nodded some more for good measure.

‘I see,’ she managed eventually. ‘Well, I – I am feeling rather tired, now. I will bid you goodnight.’

‘Miss Hanworth, I—’

‘We shall have a truce, tomorrow,’ she instructed. ‘Until we solve this diamond business – but after that, we are adversaries once more. Everything will be exactly how it was.’

He reached out an arm to halt her – but she was already walking away.