Page 17 of Lydia Acquires Adoration (Bennet Ladies Liberation #5)

Chapter Sixteen

Sebastian gazed across the carriage at Clara and Lydia and frowned in concern. While the first day of travel had been short and passed with a certain amount of gaiety, this second day of travel was decidedly worse than the day before it. First thing in the morning, when he had gone down to settle his accounts with the innkeeper, the man had responded oddly. The innkeeper had seemed surprised by his thoughtfulness and had gone so far as to say that he should have known better than to trust the rumors. This had led to a discussion about the fact that there were rumors circulating about his and Lydia's reputation for being tight-fisted and hard to satisfy.

Even as he helped Lydia and Clara into the carriage, he worried about who would be spreading such rumors. He knew he had no way of discovering their source at that moment and tried, but failed, to think of more pleasant things. It did not help that he was beset by crying. For some reason he could not fathom, Clara had taken to fretfully crying and clinging to Lydia almost from the moment she had become fully awake.

It was not the day he had hoped for. He had hoped that he might be able to find a moment to talk more with Lydia. The time that they had spent together the night before had been quite enjoyable, and he was keen to repeat the experience. It seemed he was not about to have his wish, not with his new wife’s attention so focused on Clara. Lydia had her arms full of the child at the moment, rubbing her back soothingly and humming to her. While she seemed happy enough to care for Clara, he saw lines of fatigue developing around her eyes.

He had tried to develop a relationship with Clara thus far, but she had almost seemed hesitant around him. Sebastian hoped that one day they would grow to be very close, and he knew it would take effort on his part to bridge the gap between them. Deciding to try again, he said, “Clara, would you like to come over her and sit with me? I can see a paddock with horses in it from this angle. Would you like to see?”

Clara picked her head up from where it had been cradled against Lydia’s shoulder. She looked at him through puffy eyes, swollen from her long bout of tears. For a moment, she only gazed at him, as if weighing her options. Then she nodded and held her arms out for him to take her. Reaching out his long arms, he scooped her up from Lydia’s lap and settled her in to his own. Sebastian did not miss the look of gratitude that crossed Lydia’s face as she rubbed at the back of her neck.

Leaning so that Clara could see out the window, he pointed to the horses as they frolicked in the pasture. For the first time that day, Clara managed a small smile as she watched the horses play. It was not to last, however. They were traveling and eventually the horses passed beyond their sight. At least Clara did not demand to go back to Lydia or Nurse Harris. Though she slumped into him and hid her face in his waistcoat. Knowing that he was pressing his luck, Sebastian said, “I hate to see you so sad, Clara. Can you tell me why you are so sad?”

Clara peeked up at him through her lashes for a while before she whispered, “I do not want to go back to that place.”

Happy to have stumbled onto the problem and that she had been willing to confide in him, he whispered back, “Do you mean Swarkstone Park? Or somewhere else?”

Lip trembling, Clara answered, “I do not want to go to that room again.”

Sebastian was careful not to let his anger to leak out on to his face. Of course, he was not angry at his precious little niece, but at his former brother-in-law and the staff who had allowed her to whittle away her time in that horrid, dreary room. Wanting to reassure her, Sebastian said, “Can I tell you a secret?” Eyes widening in her pale face, Clara nodded. Happy that he had her attention, he continued, “I would not want to go to that room either. It is not at all like the nursery that Artie had, was it?”

Clara shook her head solemnly, adding, “Artie had toys and chairs and warm blankets. My room does not. It is sad, and I am scared and cold at night.”

He had to look away from the pain in Clara’s eyes for a moment, or else he knew that his fury would betray him and frighten her. It did not help that he met Lydia’s enraged gaze from across the carriage. Letting a slow breath out through his nose, he managed to say, “I think that you deserve to have a better room, a room more like what Artie has. With warm blankets and pillows and rocking chairs and toys with walls full of pretty colors, and that is what you are going to get.” They may have many things that they needed to see to on the estate and in the home, but he would make sure that his niece would have the sort of room she deserved.

From across the carriage, Lydia said, “Clara, do you remember when we talked about your favorite color?”

Clara nodded and said, “I like purple.”

Lydia smiled at her and responded, “I know, and that is why before we left Pemberley, I arranged for people to bring paint and all sorts of things to Swarkstone Park so that we can paint your room and make it pretty. It will take time for it to be ready, but until it is beautiful and full of nice things like Artie’s room, you will not have to be in that room.” Clara beamed at Lydia’s explanation and Lydia smiled back, then continuing, she said, “Even once your room is ready, you will never have to be in your room alone. You will have Nurse Harris with you, and she will stay the night in the little room next to yours. If you have need of her, she will be there for you.”

For some reason, this seemed to upset Clara all over again and so Sebastian asked, “What is wrong, my dear? I thought you would be happy.”

Looking up at Sebastian, she exclaimed, with more vigor than he had yet to see her demonstrate, “But that room is bad too.” Looking across the carriage at Nurse Harris, she said, “Do not worry, Nurse Harris, you can stay with me if you want.”

Startled, the kind woman’s eyes widened slightly before she smiled and said, “That is very kind of you Miss Clara, but you do not have to worry. Your aunt has said that I can have my room fix too.”

Clara nodded and then asked, “Do you get your favorite color, too?”

After that, the day improved. They were able to regain some cheerfulness despite the constant rocking of the carriage and ruts in the road. Clara fell asleep in his arms, and he realized just how much he enjoyed the feeling of holding a sleeping child.

They arrived at Swarkstone Park after dark and, like the time before, there was no one there to greet them. Sighing, Lydia waited with Clara sleeping in her arms as Davies, Sebastian’s valet, tried the door. Knocking on the door yielded no response, leaving her feeling perturbed. Not that she expected anything else.

Once again, finding the door unlocked, their group made their way to the entryway. Lydia was tired and sore from the long day of travel and ready for a meal and bed, but doubted either would be forthcoming. Making her way into one of the dusty parlors with a moue of distaste, Lydia nevertheless sat down in an armchair with gratitude. Sebastian had tried to take Clara from her, to ease her burden, but the child had protested, and Lydia had said it was fine. While it was fine, her back and arms ached from the weight of holding her.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Wilson bustled over. Huffing in exasperation, she said, “And here I thought you must have been exaggerating. Pardon my saying so, ma’am, but the people here must be fools not to have prepared a welcome for you. If you will excuse me, I will find my way to the kitchens and see if I can scare up a meal for everyone.”

Nodding, Lydia said, “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson. I must admit that I am becoming peckish.”

Lydia had barely watched her go before Oakley said, “While she does that, I am going to investigate whether they bothered to make up your bed or Mr. Burgess' bed. After the day you have had, you deserve a good night’s sleep.” Lydia watched Oakley leave, her steps sharp.

No one was happy about the state of things at Swarkstone, but as tired as she was, Lydia felt there was no use complaining about it at the moment. She would whip things into shape tomorrow after she had a good night’s sleep and possibly a good meal. Though she had doubts about the meal. She hoped that she would not need to get a new cook as well. There was so much to do.

Laying her head back against the back of the chair, Lydia watched through slitted eyes while Sebastian talked in hushed tones with his valet and several other servants that had accompanied them to Swarkstone. She wondered how he was directing them, but really could not find the energy to care. Closing her eyes, she rested, allowing the world around her to exist in a low hum she ignored in favor of lethargy. Lydia did not think that she had nodded off, but it was hard to know for certain because the next thing she noticed was Sebastian kneeling in front of her, his eyes full of concern. She smiled at him but found little energy to comfort him otherwise.

When Sebastian cupped her cheek and rubbed the arch of her cheekbone with his thumb, Lydia felt her lethargy being eaten away by the fire that seem to flood her veins. She had a hard time focusing on his words when he said, “Lydia, dear, I think that this day has done you in. Are you well?”

Sighing, she said, “I am perfectly fine, merely worn out. I will be back to my normal self after a good night’s sleep and some food.”

With Sebastian so close to her face, Lydia found herself focusing on his eyes. They were blue like her own, but now, looking closer, she realized that they were a different sort of blue. Her eyes had often been referred to as cornflower blue. Now that she was looking so closely, she realized that Sebastian’s eyes were a deeper sort of blue, indigo to her cornflower. There was also a ring around his iris of dark navy. In her hazy state, she felt as if she could stare at his eyes indefinitely.

It took her a moment for her to realize that Sebastian had said something. Focusing with difficulty she caught, “… has left along with several other staff and possibly some artwork that is not hers, but frankly we are good to be rid of Mrs. Netter. I told Mrs. Wilson that we will be happy with something simple on a tray in our rooms.” Standing, he held his arms out and leaned over. “If you hand me Clara, I will carry her upstairs.”

Lydia released the automatic hold she had on the dead weight of sleeping Clara, hoping the child would not wake during the transfer. Gladly, the child stayed asleep. Holding Clara to his shoulder with one arm, he offered his other hand to Lydia to help her get to her feet. Lydia felt quite pampered as Sebastian guided her up the stairs with his arm around her shoulders.

She thought idly that they should have some conversation but could not come up with anything they might speak of. They progressed up the stairs and to the Mistress suite where she and Clara would stay at least for the night. Lydia only had a moment’s hesitation at the thought of having a man in her bedroom. The thought of having a man in her bedroom would have once been scandalous, but now she simply shrugged it off. She was too tired to be concerned, and he was her husband, after all.

As he laid Clara on the bed, he turned to her and asked, “Can we leave her in her dress, or should we change her into something else?”

Smiling at such thoughtful consideration, Lydia said, “She will probably sleep better if we can get her in a night rail.” Looking about the room, she spotted Clara’s valise that Oakley must have brought up with her own. Opening it and pulling out what she was looking for, Lydia looked back at Sebastian and said, “I can change her and tuck her in.”

Leaning over, he helped to sit Clara’s pliant form up. “I can help.”

It was simple work to get Clara out of her day clothes and into her night rail with Sebastian to help hold the child so she could work the buttons. Lydia knew she would marvel at how well they worked together to care for Clara at a later time, but for the moment, she was merely happy they had her settled with so little issue. After they settled Clara under the blankets, they stood together, looking down at her. Clara was what had brought them together, and if Lydia's intuition was correct, she was already drawing them closer.

Settling into a chair before the cold fireplace, Lydia sighed. It had been an exceptionally long day. Not only had she married Sebastian and had a wedding breakfast, but she had said goodbye to all of her family and traveled for eight hours on the way to her new home. She had woken a little after putting Clara to bed and now just wanted to take in some nourishment before she went to sleep herself.

When a soft knock came at the door to the sitting room they had reserved, Lydia sat up and called for whoever it was to enter. Sebastian peeked his head around the door and said, “I wanted to check in with you and make sure you were well for the night.”

Smiling at his consideration, Lydia gestured him in. “Come and sit with me. They just delivered some tea and simple food. Would you like some?”

Coming to sit next to her, he said, “Yes, I would love a cup. It has been a long and eventful day.”

Lydia was careful to pour him a cup and add just the right amount of cream and sugar. She had, after all, been paying attention to him so that she might find out such things about him. With a warm smile, she presented Sebastian with his tea, as well as a plate of buttered bread with a chunk of cheese. She said, “I am hoping that Clara will be so exhausted that she will sleep soundly throughout the night.”

Though Lydia found herself eager to talk with her husband, she was more than aware of the unusual nature of their wedding night. There would be time enough to face that aspect of their marriage. For now, she was happy to adjust to all the changes going on and come to know Sebastian better.

Taking a sip of his tea, Sebastian smiled. “You got it just right.”

Wrinkling her nose in pleasure, Lydia blushed at his approval. “I am your wife. After all, it would be bad if I could not even prepare a cup of tea according to your preference. How else will you know when I am angry with you, if you do not know that I know how to make you tea correctly? Now, if I serve it to you incorrectly, you will know there is a reason for it.”

Her joke had been poorly timed because shortly before she spoke, he had taken another sip and nearly spit it out all over the sitting room. After a fit of coughing, he rasped, “I will be sure to remain on the lookout for your poorly crafted cup of tea, for I am sure to make many mistakes.”

Handing him a serviette to wipe at his mouth, Lydia said, “Given that I am certain to commit my own fair share of mistakes, I kindly ask for the chance to extend forgiveness to one another.”

With a grateful smile, Sebastian reached up to wipe his face clean. Then he turned to Lydia, and when their eyes met, something about it sent a shiver racing down her spine. Sebastian shared the connection with her for a moment before saying, “Then let us agree to forgive each other's mistakes, both honest and inevitable.” Discovering the sudden need to take a sip of tea, Lydia could only nod her head in response to his lovely statement.

They sat for a moment, munching on the simple meal and sipping their tea in silence. All the while, Lydia wondered at how fast she was falling under his spell. He proved himself to be so considerate and respectful that Lydia found it hard not to be moved. Not that she wanted to resist it, only his potent gaze caught her off guard with its effect. In addition, there were countless moments when he graciously helped her in and out of the carriage, his touch at the small of her back or his arm extended for her to hold on to in a chivalrous manner. Was it only that they were married? Or did it mean more?

Waking up that morning had been difficult for Sebastian, but he had known that the lawyer, Mr. Coulson, would arrive sometime that morning. He arrived shortly after Sebastian and Lydia had enjoyed a pleasant breakfast together. Ever the professional, Mr. Coulson quickly had them settled in the study and going over matters.

“Everything looks in order,” affirmed Mr. Coulson. Handing back the marriage papers to Lydia, he began to stack the papers that he had brought to be signed up. Looking up at Sebastian, he said, “I have set things so that you can have access to the funds I previously mentioned. I believe you will need the funds in order to make the needed improvements around the estate. In looking back over records of this estate, it appears that at one time it brought in nearly five thousand a year. Right now, it only brings in three thousand, but I am confident, Mr. Burgess, that you are the sort to turn things around.”

Sebastian nodded his head in response to Mr. Coulson’s comment. He would certainly work hard at it. An Estate the size of Swarkstone Park had no business bringing in so little profit. He was glad that they could finally make the needed repairs to the tenants' cottages with the money they now had access to. Shifting in his seat, Sebastian asked, “What happens to the profits from the estate every year?”

Putting his papers into a folder, Mr. Coulson said, “You keep the profits to use as you see fit. Though I would hope that you put at least some of it back into the property in improvements and such.”

“But wouldn’t the money go to Clara somehow?” Asked Lydia from where she sat beside him.

Smiling at Lydia, Mr. Coulson answered, “It is set up similar to how you would lease an estate. As you must know, someone who leases an estate gets whatever profits that come in after harvest. Though you are not paying rent, you will be caring for Miss Clara and providing for her by getting her a nursemaid and remodeling the nursery. You are also going to be putting forth a tremendous amount of effort to bring the estate back to what it should be. Having put in so much effort, you deserve to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

Nodding, Lydia said, “I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense. Do you need me for anything else?”

Shaking his head, Mr. Coulson responded, “No, we are done with everything.”

Rising from her chair, Lydia nodded and said, “Then I will return to helping Mrs. Wilson oversee things. As you might have noticed, we are quite short of staff and those previously in charge let many things go far too long for my tastes. I am determined to have the house cleaned from top to bottom before we do anything else. Would you like to stay the night, Mr. Coulson? I am sure we could prepare a room for you.”

Standing, Mr. Coulson said, “Thank you for offering, but I am eager to get back home. It is early enough for me to travel a good distance before I have to stop for the night.”

Lydia dropped into a curtsy. “Then I will bid you goodbye, Mr. Coulson.” Before she left the room, she smiled prettily at Sebastian.

Walking with Mr. Coulson towards the stables, Sebastian said, “Thank you for coming out here to help us get things in proper order. Having to make our way to London to meet with you would have made things much more complicated.”

Waving him off, Mr. Coulson said, “I am used to a certain amount of travel with my role as solicitor.” Pausing as they reached his horse and asked the stable hand to saddle him, Mr. Coulson said, “I must commend you on your choice of bride. Not only is Mrs. Burgess beautiful, but it is obvious that she already cares for Miss Clara. I could see how much affection she has for the girl when she brought her down to meet with me.”

Glancing back in the direction they had come from, Sebastian smiled. Returning his gaze to Mr. Coulson, Sebastian said, “Mrs. Burgess is always considerate of those she meets and already looks at Clara as her daughter. She has a deep understanding of how to run a home and an estate effectively. I couldn't be happier about this new chapter in my life.”

Nodding, he smiled at Sebastian, responding, “Then I am glad for you. Though I cannot help but wonder at where you found such a paragon of virtues.”

Leaning against a stall door, Sebastian thought about meeting Lydia. “Mrs. Burgess is the youngest sister of Mrs. Darcy and Lady Matlock. She was at Pemberley when we went there for aid. As soon as she knew I needed to marry in order to care for Clara, she volunteered.”

Whistling, Mr. Coulson said, “Then you are now connected to two powerful families, but somehow I doubt that was something that influenced you.”

Shaking his head, Sebastian said, “I never gave it a thought.”

Taking the reins of his horse, Mr. Coulson led him out and swung himself up into the saddle, but before he left, he said, “Good for you. I will leave you with one further piece of advice. Do not get so lost in worry over the estate that you overlook enjoying time with your new bride.”

Watching him go, Sebastian pondered his advice. Mr. Coulson was right. Even with a mountain of tasks ahead, he understood the importance of bonding with Lydia. However, he doubted it would be a problem with the way she drew him to her.