Page 22 of Lydia Acquires Adoration (Bennet Ladies Liberation #5)
Chapter Twenty-One
“I am most severely displeased!” Baron Blackthorn's voice boomed across the room as he bellowed.
Chester watched the man prowl the room, hoping that if he held still enough, he would not draw the man’s wrath. Of late, the baron had become more prone to violence and Chester was learning to fear for his safety. Not only that, but he was also starting to fear for his soul.
It had been one thing to bribe the workers to leave Swarkstone. It had not taken much really—a forged letter of reference to start over somewhere else and more than enough money to relocate. Bribing the employment agencies was even easier. Even encouraging the spread of rumors had been simple enough and had done little to actually hurt Mr. Burgess or his family. If he had been allowed to stop there, he could have dealt well enough with his conscience.
Though, of course, the baron found the results unsatisfactory. As a man who worked in the shadows and with many secrets, it had never occurred to him that someone else might not be easy to pull down into the muck. Mr. Burgess and his wife had proven too good and the people he had gone to help were all singing his praise. Everyone in the nearby estates and towns had quickly seen the truth. This had further enraged the baron, who was still determined to get his hands on the monies that had been granted to the child when his brother died.
“I will see that what is rightfully mine is returned to me!” The smashing of a vase near Chester’s head accompanied the baron’s continued rant. Chester tried his best to refrain from flinching, knowing it would draw the wrath of the baron. At this point in the baron’s rambling, it was a relief that he did not expect Chester to say anything. Chester would have found little that he could have said in response to the baron’s growing madness.
Though he had always found it distasteful, he had helped the baron with blackmail and rumor mongering. Now the baron was falling farther into depravity than Chester could follow. His stomach twisted in knots as he contemplated the consequences of the baron’s recent foray into arson. He was certain that people would be hurt and what was worse, Chester had helped the baron find the arsonist who would do the job.
He was ever more certain that he must find a way out of his service to the despicable man. Thank goodness he had managed to see his mother and sister safely from England’s shores. They were now on their way to Canada, looking to start over somewhere new. Now he only had to see to himself, and the baron could no longer threaten what remained of his family. Even with the threat of debtor’s prison held over his head, like the sword of Damocles, he had to find a way out of the baron’s clutches. Chester had begun silently planning his escape when something the baron said made his stomach drop.
“I am tired of trying to force Burgess’s hand. Despite our efforts, he remains resolute in his commitment to care for the child and refuses to back out of the venture. And the current strategy to make the estate unprofitable is not proving to be sufficiently expedient. It's been quite a while, and the three strategies we got from that bribed clerk to have him lose custody of the girl are still not yielding results. At this rate, it could take years to get what I want.” After kicking a chair and sending it skidding across the room, the baron suddenly grew still. When he smiled, Chester wanted to vomit, knowing the next words out of the man’s mouth would be horrendous.
Moving calmly back to his desk, his face twisted in a cruel smile, Baron Blackthorn sat down and said, “I have gone about it all wrong. Why attempt to get custody of the child so that I can siphon off her fortune? I have it backwards. What I need to do is get my hands on what the man loves, what he needs, or what he wants, and I can simply demand all the funds I want.”
Lydia woke slowly and was immediately aware of the kink in her neck because of sleeping oddly. Groaning, she lay there, trying to massage the pain away.
“You really should climb into bed with me instead of sleeping over there like that all huddled over.” The slightly husky voice had Lydia jerking upright and gazing into the pained gaze of her darling Sebastian.
“You are awake!” Crawling over the bed in what she was certain was a very undignified fashion, Lydia drew as close to him as she dared. Goop and leaves still covered his arms, and she was terrified of hurting him, so she settled for hovering near him. Confused, she asked, “Why did no one wake me?”
Shaking his head, Sebastian replied, “It was obvious that you were completely exhausted. I was not going anywhere, and you needed the sleep.”
It was just like him to try to protect her. Huffing, Lydia grumbled, “I was not the one who was burned trying to act the hero.”
Sebastian laughed. “What else could I do? You must admit that you were in need of rescuing.”
It irked Lydia that she had spent hours worrying about his unconscious wounded state, only for him to awaken in a jovial mood. Cranky, she complained, “Do you have no care for my poor nerves? Here I have been agonizing over you for four days. I have been in a constant state of guilt and fear, and you are joking?” Wiping angrily at the tears that were trailing down her cheeks, Lydia shook her head. Then, gazing back up at him, she said, “It is a wonder that I love you so much because it has only brought me grief these last four days.”
Covering her face with both her hands, Lydia allowed herself to cry in earnest. It was simply too much. Too much fear, too much joy now that he was awake. and too much relief to have finally said the words that had plagued her from almost the start of her marriage. She was astonished when she felt Sebastian pulling her hands away from her face. Mouth dropping open, she was about to admonish Sebastian for moving and possibly damaging himself when he hushed her with a look.
“I am well enough to move if I am careful. This goo that you have on me is doing wonders. Do not worry.” Sebastian squeezed her hands before releasing them and laying his arms back down on the pillows that supported them. Offering her a reassuring smile, he continued, “You will forgive me if I do not want to speak of my love for you while looking at the backs of your hands while you cry.”
Lydia knew that her mouth was hanging open, but she was incapable of doing a thing about it. He had once again spoken of his love, but this time there was no smoke or fire to distract her from his declaration. Now she was crying for more reasons than she had previously cataloged.
Shaking his head, Sebastian drawled, “It is painful to watch you cry or hear you declare your love and not be able to draw you into my arms with abandon. Sadly, I know if I attempted it, you would scold me soundly.”
The impact of his statement was so significant that it nearly shocked her out of her teary state. Pouting, she said, “It is your own fault. I am sure we could have come up with a better plan had you taken the time to think.”
“You will never sway me to your way of thinking because you see, I was successful. I got you out of there with little more than smoke damage. My own injures were inconsequential,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders, though it seemed to put a grimace on his face.
Despite her sympathy for his pain, Lydia became frustrated with his intransigence. No wonder Lizzie would get so frustrated with William. Were all men so hardheaded, or was it just the ones the Bennet sisters fell in love with?
With her weight shifted onto her heels, Lydia crossed her arms and stared at Sebastian, wondering if it was worth it to press the argument. It was not as if they could go back in time and change things. Nor could she have stopped him from saving her, even if they did.
She must have waited too long to speak, because Sebastian added, “From the time we met, I had always found you intriguing. You were energetic and bold, but also caring and compassionate, and I enjoyed spending time with you. The idea of biding my time, waiting for you to be ready for marriage, had crossed my mind. I wanted to get to know you better, and I half suspected that with time we would be good friends, or possibly more than that.” He paused in his speech and Lydia watched his fingers twitch. She wondered if he wanted to run his fingers through his hair or rub at his eyebrow like he sometimes did.
After a moment he continued, “Then life intruded, and I was willing to settle for the sake of my niece, but you spoke up and upended my world. It was almost as if time had skipped a beat, and suddenly, I found myself immersed in the depths of love for you. I was no longer casually strolling by the seashore, but rather engulfed in a vast ocean of love for you.”
She crept closer to Sebastian, but was careful not to disturb his healing burns. Lydia bit her lip, both eager to confess and terrified to do so. For a moment, Lydia found herself studying the man she loved. Besides the healing burns on his arms, Sebastian looked much different from how she had been used to seeing him. He was no longer clean shaven. In fact, he had more than a few days’ scruff on his face. She admitted, if only to herself, that she much preferred him clean shaven. The sight of his strong jaw unobscured had always made her heart flutter. Regarding his shirtless state, she did not mind that at all, though it had taken a day or two to completely get over the shock of seeing his chest completely bare. Drawing her gaze back up to his eyes, she felt drawn into their depths. Somehow finding her courage there, she smiled at him, acknowledging that she knew he was watching her.
She was relieved to see that Sebastian was patient, giving her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. Tracing the outline on the pattern of the coverlet that she kneeled on, she finally admitted, “I had hoped for love in our marriage, but I was willing to wait even years to develop it. Discovering my love for you was a shock so soon after our marriage. I probably was half in love with you when I proposed the idea of our union. Still, I was willing to wait and hope that you would develop feelings for me in return. I never thought I would feel this secure in your love for me so soon after our wedding.”
With all the love he had for her stirred up and boiling to the surface, Sebastian did not want to resist the urge to hold Lydia. It felt as if there must be some divine consequence if he could not hold her in his arms. While his burns did hurt, what affected him more was this growing need of his that was becoming an ache. So he waited to gauge her reaction, hoping she would comply.
“Somehow, I cannot believe that we are finally both aware of our mutual affection and can do nothing about it. If I promise to try not to get leaves and goo in your hair, can I hold you?” he nearly begged.
The blush across her cheeks told him of her acceptance before she said, “Yes, as long as you are careful not to hurt yourself.”
Holding his arms aloft, he encouraged her to crawl toward him and settle in on his chest. With gentle care, he placed his hands back down, cradling her securely against him as she rested her head at the crook of his neck. He sighed in contentment, simply happy to be so close in her company. Dreams of her embrace had been haunting him. Oh, there had been dreams of more, but just as precious to him were his dreams of simply lying with her in his arms. Sebastian was quick to note that reality was so much better than the misty impressions he had treasured.
Humming under his breath, Sebastian said, “I know that there must be a world of things that we must face and deal with. The consequences of the fire and the management of the estate, but I find that I do not want to move, nor do I want to think of anything of serious nature.”
Tilting slightly, Lydia looked him in the eye from where she rested against his chest. In what he assumed was an attempt to be stern, she said, “While you are recovering, I expect you to while away your days in lazy pursuits. We can do without your diligent management for a time. You will find me capable of handling most things on my own.” Laying her head back down on his chest, Lydia huffed. Sebastian found the action highly distracting, as the warmth of her breath curled along the bare skin of his neck and chest. He felt goosebumps shoot down his form and struggled not to shudder in pleasure as she continued speaking, “It would not surprise me if several members of my family were to show up in the near future. The minute they realize that we are being targeted, they will begin to close ranks.”
Sebastian made a conscious effort to divert his mind from enticing thoughts, instead directing his attention towards the threats they faced. After all, it would be some time before he could act on any impulses his new closeness with Lydia might tempt him to, so he focused on maintaining self-control. Considering their problems, he said, “I should not have wondered if you would notice how we had been targeted.”
Lydia seemed to ponder the question for a moment before saying, “If one fire is a horrible accident, and two fires is a questionable coincidence, then three fires in such a close period of time are evidence of a malicious attack. There have been too many odd experiences since we determined to take control of Swarkstone for there to not be some culprit hiding in the shadows.”
Sebastian would have been better able to follow her well-reasoned logic if she had not started to trace some unknown pattern with her finger on the skin of his chest. For a moment, he found it very difficult to find the words with which to respond. After swallowing thickly, he managed, “Do you suppose they will show themselves eventually, or will we need to drag them into the light?”
“Well, if they do not come forward of their own volition, then we can always force the issue.” Looking back up at him, Lydia said, “Though I think we both have our suspicions of who it is causing problems. There is only one man I know of who was angered by the results of Mr. Blakesley’s will.”
Eyebrows drawn, Sebastian surmised, “Yes, Mr. Herrington told me that Baron Blackthorn was not a man who appreciated being crossed. Not that we crossed him.”
Huffing in a way that reminded Sebastian of a puppy, Lydia added, “No, it seems as if we simply stumbled into a family feud. Only the baron is the last man standing, and he is still not happy with the results.”
Sebastian did not want their moment of bliss disrupted by such a man. He knew that he could not focus on the baron and retain the joy he felt just being with Lydia. So he said, “Is it wrong of me to want to ignore him? Not forever, only long enough to enjoy some time with you. I feel the need to just be with the woman I adore.”
He could feel her nod against his chest, and, with a sigh, she said, “Our problems can wait. I only want to soak in the warmth of you and bask in the joy. We can face the realities of our situation soon enough.”
Meeting with Mrs. Wilson had become an enjoyable part of Lydia’s routine. They discussed the issues of running the house over tea and had developed a friendship of sorts. Taking a sip of her tea, Lydia listened as she spoke of the state of the employees.
“In fact, we have even expanded our staff by two yesterday, and I am hopeful that they will integrate well with our existing staff.” Mrs. Wilson's smile grew wider as she spoke, her typically sunny disposition amplified by the addition of the much-needed assistance.
Lydia could easily see why even the addition of two people could encourage her so. To run efficiently, an estate the size of Swarkstone Park should truly have a minimum of twenty indoor staff and ten outdoor staff. As it stood before the additions, they had eleven indoor staff and four outdoor staff. This meant that they were having to choose what could be worked on and what had to be ignored for a time. Both she and Mrs. Wilson shared a commitment to excellence in their work, never shying away from a challenge. It was irksome to know they were only handling the bare essentials. And that was before the additional issue of the fire and resulting problems.
Smiling, Lydia asked, “What can you tell me of the new workers?”
With a nod of her head, Mrs. Wilson said, “The first is a young woman in her twenties named Matilda Cole. She states that she was looking for a fresh start after some of her family members died in an accident. She has a wonderful reference from the housekeeper from her last position. I think with time she might become a good upstairs maid should she prove herself as hardworking as the reference suggests.” After pausing to take a sip of her tea, she continued, “The second is a young man in his mid-teens who will work in the stables but is able to help elsewhere as the need arises. While I know that he can’t have much experience at his age, he stuck me as energetic and hardworking.”
For a moment, Lydia wondered how these workers managed to find their way to them. They certainly were not from the employment agencies that they had attempted to work with. She had a niggling suspicion that they may be receiving these workers through her family connections. It would be easy enough for them to spread the word that they were looking for good employees. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she merely responded by saying, “I am glad to have them, as they shall certainly lighten our loads. On a different topic, have Suzanna and Lilly improved at all?”
With a frustrated purse of her lips, she let out a sigh and said, “I think Lilly is showing some improvement. The viscount visiting unexpectedly gave her enough of a fright make her realize why she should put in the effort to do a job well. I do not think she was ever trained to any standard that you or I would hold someone to, so I have been taking some time every day to show her how to do things better. With time, she will probably improve to be a middling worker. It helps that she is a follower and now that the other workers are showing their dedication, she is starting to follow along. On the other hand, if Suzanna does not show more improvement, she will eventually need to be let go. She only does the bare minimum and retains her petulant attitude.”
“I suggest we try to keep her until the next hiring fair in September. Not only may we attempt to gain her replacement, but it will make it easier for her to find a new position.” Taking a last sip of her tea, Lydia considered Suzanna. She hoped that the woman would improve, but suspected she would not. Setting down her now empty teacup, she changed the subject by asking, “I would like to reward those workers who are proving themselves to have good attitudes and are hardworking. Do you know of anything that they might use, or be appreciative to receive?” Lydia watched Mrs. Wilson as she looked off into the distance, thinking, glad that she was taking her question seriously. While Lydia had a few ideas herself, she knew that Mrs. Wilson was closer to the servants and might know something she didn’t. Besides, it was always good to show your housekeeper how much you respected her judgment.
Turning her gaze back to Lydia, Mrs. Wilson said, “The first thing that comes to mind would be a cheerful blanket to keep them warm this winter, but that would take time to complete. More immediately, it might be better to offer something simpler like a small bag of chocolates or comfits.”
Lydia knew it would not do to grin at her housekeeper, but she could not keep her eyes from dancing when she replied, “Both are lovely ideas. Next time I go to town, I will buy the supplies for both. I know you meet with the staff weekly. Would you mind distributing the gifts to those whom you consider deserving of the treats?” Lydia already had the thought of getting several lengths of ribbon to tie the bags with.
“Of course,” came Mrs. Wilson’s reply.
Looking at the clock that stood in the corner of the room, Lydia frowned, exclaiming, “I did not realize how late it was. I promised to take Clara on a walk through the garden and to visit the horses this morning.”
Standing, Mrs. Wilson said, “Then I will leave you to do that and go check in on the maids.” Then, giving a quick bob of a curtsy, she left the room, allowing Lydia to rush off in search of Clara.
Chester patted the pocket that had the letter he had finally received from his mother, reassuring himself by its presence. She and Gwen had arrived at their new home safely. It was finally time to make his escape. Once he had hoped he could work off his father’s debt and start over in England. It had been hard to come to the realization that he could never return to the life that he once knew and had hoped to have. The baron would never willingly let him leave his service. As things stood, Chester was no better than a slave committed to doing his master’s bidding.
With the baron unconscious after his excessive indulgence, Chester saw a glimmer of hope that he could make a swift and untraceable escape. Freedom was within his grasp. He just had to take the risk and grab it. He packed his bag and hid what little money he had been able to save over his years of servitude within its confines and fled.
Dashing down alleys in the dark of dawn, Chester knew that there was only one thing left to do. Using some of his precious funds, he had his letter sent by express. The baron’s downward spiral was sure to hurt good people and Chester could not, in good conscience, leave good people in ignorance of the danger approaching them. He could only pray that the letter’s recipient took his words seriously.