Page 19 of Lydia Acquires Adoration (Bennet Ladies Liberation #5)
Chapter Eighteen
Eyes narrowing, Sebastian glared at his father, shocked at his rudeness. “I would have you address my wife with respect, sir.”
His father looked at him and then back at Lydia. His eyebrows raised and his color once again turning florid, his father thundered, “I thought she was the housekeeper! Just who is this woman? I will admit that she cleans up well, but did you know she was traipsing about with the look of a washerwoman?”
Sebastian immediately looked at Lydia, aghast at his father’s horrible comments. Had Lydia been the one who had greeted his father? He had not known and now worried how very horrible he had been to her, especially if he thought her the housekeeper. Drawing her instinctively into his side, he hoped to shield her from some of his father’s ire. Looking down at her, he pleaded, “I apologize for my father’s inappropriate comments. I did not know that you were the one who greeted him. He is often put out after traveling, and not finding me available could not have helped.”
Smiling up at him, she responded, “You are not your father, my dear. Only your father must answer for his behavior. How was he to know that his unexpected arrival interrupted my training the maids? He might have known who he was talking to had he stopped complaining long enough to allow me to introduce myself, but now he knows.” Looking across the room at his father, she continued, “Would you prefer I address you as viscount? Or do you prefer something else? You do not strike me as the sort to be overly sentimental, so I will not call you father unless you ask me to.”
Head tilted back and his body shifting away from Lydia, it delighted Sebastian to note that his father did not quite know what to make of his bold wife. It took his father a moment to compose himself enough to come up with a response. “Viscount, would be the most appropriate.”
It seemed that his father was about to say more when Mrs. Wilson entered the room and announced, “Dinner is served.”
They all moved into the small dining room together, Lydia on his arm, and Sebastian was happy to note that the place settings had been arranged informally. He had no desire to speak to his wife across the length of the table or be stuck only speaking with his father. His father, however, was not done complaining, “What sort of table setting is this?”
Lydia seated herself as Sebastian pulled out her chair for her. She was quick to respond to the viscount. “I had the staff set the table informally. We are, after all, family. There is no need to shout down the table to speak with one another when we can all be seated closer together.”
Sebastian was delighted to realize that his father seemed to respond to Lydia’s statement by sitting down. He frowned but said no more. Was it that he could not fault her logic? Taking his own seat, Sebastian observed the pair.
As they were being served, Lydia asked, “Is your room to your liking? Please let us know if there is anything lacking.”
His father watched Lydia with narrowed eyes before nodding minutely. “The room is adequate, though I must admit that I appreciate the beauty of the flowers you have on display in my room.”
Lydia smiled broadly, accepting the compliment with grace. “Thank you. I have a fondness for flower arranging.”
“You have a deft hand with the art. It will reflect well on my son,” acknowledged the Viscount.
Giving a dainty shrug, Lydia responded, “What can I say? It is as if they speak to me.” Lydia looked at Sebastian as she spoke, her eyes twinkling with mirth and Sebastian nearly spit out the sip of claret that he had just taken. Heaven only knew what the flowers in his father’s room said. Thank goodness his father was too stuffy to consider pursuing something like the language of flowers.
Sebastian went about consuming his meal, though he could not have said what they had if anyone had asked. He was too preoccupied with his father’s presence and Lydia’s reassuring smiles. She seemed to handle his father much better than Selene ever had, but he supposed that there was something different in dealing with your own parent versus someone wholly unconnected to you.
The table was quiet for a time, but eventually Lydia started a conversation by asking, “So, Viscount, how has the growing season been in Northumberland this year? I heard talk of heavy rains up north, causing flooding. Was that anywhere near your estate?”
Swallowing his most recent spoonful of soup carefully, he paused before saying, “Thankfully the heavy rains have not caused any flooding in my fields, though one or two neighboring estates have had issues.”
Lydia took a delicate sip of her own soup before replying, “That is good. Too much rain early in the season is better than closer to harvest, but still it can harm the overall yield.”
Eyebrows narrowing, his father said, “True.”
Tuning to him, Lydia asked, “How did fixing the roof for the Clarke’s cottage go?” In such a manner, Lydia kept the conversation at the table, going for the rest of the meal. As every course progressed. His father looked more and more confused.
When the meal had finally ended, Lydia stood from the table. “I am sure that you gentlemen need to talk with one another. I will be in my sitting room should you have need of me.”
After she left, Sebastian looked at his father and waited for him to speak. He knew it was only a matter of time before he said something. The question was, what would it be? Somehow Sebastian thought that it was going to be what his father had originally come to say.
Augustus looked at his son as he sat at the head of the table realizing just how mature his son had grown. He had been ready to condemn him for his choice to marry a girl who was not born of the nobility; she was not even the daughter of a mere baron. Her father was a nobody, and yet… And yet she was not what he expected.
The woman knew about crop issues and could carry on conversation on a number of topics in a very refined manner. She was also of a strong character. Never once had she winced or cowered as he looked to find fault. That said, nothing of her beauty, which was notable. Somehow, she reminded him of his wife, despite her blonde hair. It was disconcerting.
He began, “I came here to tell you how disappointed I was in you.” Watching his son’s reaction, Augustus saw that Sebastian was not surprised that he had come to insult him. That, in fact, his son expected it. Deciding to go forward and not focus on the state of his relationship, he said, “However, choosing that woman to be your wife may not have been the worst decision.”
“No, I already think that agreeing to marry her is about the best decision I have ever made.”
“Wait, you agreed to marry her? Was she the one to ask you?”
Smiling, his son said, “She knew that I was determined to find a bride within the thirty-day allotment and saw how much of a struggle it would be. I think she was already half attached to Clara and wanted to be her mother figure. Lydia volunteered herself as my bride so that I could focus on bringing Swarkstone up to snuff.”
Voice faint, Augustus said, “She reminds me of your mother.” Gaze becoming unfocused, he remembered some of the early days of his arranged marriage. His young wife had not been at all what he expected. She had been energetic and constantly overseeing something. He had learned to enjoy her good-natured impertinence and good will to even the servants. His own father had been in charge at the time, and it had made for a few uncomfortable dinners, but when he had lost her at the birth of his heir, his life had shifted back to what it had been before she had brought so much light into his world. She had been a lovely aberration that could not last. Somehow, he had forgotten that light until recognizing it in his daughter-in-law.
“You never spoke of my mother. I have always wondered what she was like.” Sebastian spoke up, his voice conveying shock.
“She was much like your wife, in equal turns, spirited and beautiful and hardworking. After she was gone from my life, it was easy to look back and view her almost as if she was a dream. Had I had her with me longer, I might have become a different man, but we were together less than five years, and I was still under my father’s thumb for all that I was of age. I did not have your courage, your mother’s courage really, and so I stayed in Northumberland.” It felt odd to reveal so much of himself to his son. He had spent so much time being the viscount . Firm and unrelenting in the way he did things, he sought no council and gave nothing but commands.
“It is nice to think that I received more from my mother than just my black hair.” Sebastian commented, his expression one that Augustus could not read.
Moving consciously away from reminiscing and moving to the problem at hand, he looked at his son with a hard stare, stating, “I still do not think that taking on this estate for the sake of your sister’s daughter is a wise move. So much effort invested and for what? None of it is going to be yours.”
His son’s visage likewise turned hard. Nearly growling, he said, “Can you not say her name? Clara is your daughter’s only child. Would you see her left to the devices of an evil man who wants only to fill his coffers? I would die before I allowed my family, who I love, to be misused and neglected. It means more to me to love and care for my niece than to worry about putting my time and effort into my niece’s inheritance. Besides, it gives me the opportunity to run an estate and gain experience. You would never allow me to help run any of your estates as I saw fit, and I would never let you arrange Selene’s marriage as you wanted to.” Sighing and rubbing at his eyebrow, Sebastian continued, “You have never even met your granddaughter.”
It was an old argument. He did not agree with his son’s new-fangled ideas and saw no point in letting him manage anything when he could still do so perfectly fine. He waited to take control until his own father passed and he saw no reason to change things for his son. As for Selene, that whole attempt to marry her to an earl had been a disaster. The moment Sebastian had gotten wind of it, he told his sister that he would support her decision to refuse the much older man. Sebastian insisted that Selene should have the freedom to choose her own husband and have the chance to fall in love , of all things. Even banning Sebastian from Trowbridge and his other estates for supporting his sister’s choices had done nothing to sway him.
Suddenly, Augustus was very weary. The weight of years of arguments with his son seemed to be bearing down on him. Between that and his long journey to confront Sebastian, it was too much to take on. He needed to rest his weary bones. “I am too weary to argue with you anymore this evening. I am for bed. We will speak more on this in the morning.” Getting up, Augustus walked wearily out of the room and made his way to his guest room. The visit to his son was not going at all as he had expected.
Lydia looked up from her sewing when Sebastian made his way into her sitting room. It was a habit that they had developed in the brief span of their marriage, meeting together in the evening to discuss matters of the day. Seeing the droop of his shoulders, Lydia put the dress she was making for Clara to the side. Sitting forward in her chair, she asked, “Did your conversation with your father go poorly?”
Sighing, he sat next to her on the settee in a slumping manner. When he did not speak right away, she scooted closer to him and ran a soothing hand along his arm. She did not push him to say anything, merely waited for him to find the words to express his pain.
Rubbing at his eyebrow, he said, “It was, oddly enough, the best conversation I have had with my father in years.” Looking at her with a faint smile gracing his well-formed lips, he continued, “He told me you reminded him of my mother. I cannot recall a single instance where he had spoken about her before tonight. I think you impressed him. He actually almost said he approved of you as my wife, which is something I could have never expected.”
Lydia was so used to fatherly disapproval that she had not even thought to care what his father thought of her. She supposed, though, that his approval might make things easier. It was heart-wrenching to realize that his father had kept him in the dark about his mother until that evening. She asked him, “How do you feel about what you learned of your mother?”
Drawing closer to Lydia, he rested his head on the back of the settee, nearly on her shoulder. Watching her with heavy-lidded eyes, he said, “Until this evening, the most I had truly known about her was that I get my black hair from her. When I asked the servants as I child, I mostly only heard that she was a true lady and was very caring. But tonight, father said that she was much like you, in equal turns, spirited and beautiful and hardworking. It is more than I have ever had, and it makes me happy to think I ended up with a woman so much like her.”
It delighted Lydia to hear that she might be so like the woman who had birthed Sebastian. That she might be able to grant him a connection of sorts to the woman he never knew. Brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, she said, “I am honored to know that you feel that way.”
“Of course, things could not continue on such a positive note. He then felt he had to tell me how much he disapproves of my choice to take over Swarkstone. Father cannot see the good in it, in helping Clara.” Lydia noticed the deep furrows of sorrow etched across her husband's brow, revealing a side of him she had never witnessed. Closing his eyes, Sebastian took a deep breath before seeking her with a pained gaze and saying, “He has never even met her.”
She could see the pain in his eyes. She was familiar with that pain. The pain of not being accepted or loved the way you needed to be loved. Urged to comfort him, she soothed his brow with her fingertips as she would with Clara or even one of her sisters. Lydia quickly surmised that the action did not engender the same feelings of maternal solicitude. No, this was something else entirely, and she could not describe it. Determined to analyze her reaction at another time, she said, “Regardless of how your father feels about the situation, you know he cannot stop you from doing the right thing. We both adore your niece, and we will ensure that she receives the utmost love and care, which will undoubtedly make her feel cherished and protected.”
Reaching out, he clasped the hand that had just left his brow and said, “How did I get so lucky? It hasn’t even been a week since we married. It is a marriage of convenience and yet more and more I see that you are perfect. You are perfectly what I need to help manage things here in the house while I see to the estate, and you are exactly what Clara needs. You love her as much as I do, if not more.”
It was not a declaration of love, but Lydia found herself happy with it, nonetheless. She was certainly very happy with the way her new marriage was progressing. She grinned at him and said, “Sometimes things just work out that way.”