Page 44 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Lady Cheltenham looked up. “Good morning, Lucas.”

“Good morning to you as well, Mother.” He sat, sending a look Lydia’s way before turning to his food.

“Would you be able to escort Lydia to see her solicitor?” Lady Cheltenham asked, picking up her glass and taking a drink.

Lord Berkeley’s and Lydia’s startled gazes met one another across the table.

“That is not necessary, Lady Cheltenham. I do not wish to disrupt Lord Berkeley’s day.”

Lady Cheltenham waved her words aside and picked up her cup of tea, but before Lydia responded, Lord Berkeley cut in.

“Not a disruption at all. Shall we say noon, Miss Faraday?”

Surprised but not unhappy, Lydia agreed.

A few hours later, Lydia was handed into a closed carriage with Lord Berkeley.

Jones came with them but blessedly tucked herself into a corner and did not say a thing.

She’d grown less overt in her frustrations with Lydia since they’d come to stay with the marquess and marchioness.

Lydia wasn’t naive enough to think it had anything to do with Lydia herself.

Rather it was a recognition that Jones was now lower in status than nearly everyone in the home save the lowest maids and working boys.

Lydia was too overwhelmed with planning her meeting with Mr. Sperry to be much of a conversationalist, and Lord Berkeley did not pry into her plans, but he did insist on seeing her inside when Lydia told Jones that she could wait in the carriage.

The door to the back office was closed when they entered.

“He is likely with a client. I do not imagine he will be long,” Lord Berkeley said.

Lydia nodded, trying not to fidget.

“Might I ask . . . Is anything amiss?”

Lydia looked up from her hands, which she had been studiously keeping from pulling at the lace on her dress. “No,” she said.

Lord Berkeley nodded, not pressing the issue.

The door in the back opened, and two men came out.

“Lord Berkeley,” a man with rough clothing and tanned skin said, dropping into a bow.

“Tom, how are you?”

Tom’s face split into a grin. “Mighty fine, m’ lord. Mighty fine indeed.”

“Your new situation is a comfortable one then?”

The man folded the brim of his hat in his hands. “Yessir. I’s just asking Mr. Sperry here to leave you a message. We’re leavin’ London. The family and I. My employer thinks I’d make a good farmer and has a place for us jus’ waitin’ empty. The missus is thrilled. I can’t thank you enough, m’ lord.”

“It is all your own doing, Tom. Hardly anything to do with me. I am very happy for you.” Lord Berkeley looked it too. It was hard to look away when he appeared that pleased.

In truth, it was usually difficult to look away from the man. Drat his handsomeness.

Lord Berkeley suddenly glanced over at her, and she tried to appear as if she’d not just been ogling him. She didn’t think she was particularly successful, but thankfully he simply looked from her to Mr. Sperry. “Miss Faraday needed some of your time, if you’re available, Mr. Sperry?”

The solicitor straightened up. “Yes, yes, of course. Come on back, Miss Faraday.”

Lydia followed the man to his office, pushing back regret that she would no longer be able to survey what Lord Berkeley looked like when he was overtly happy.

Mr. Sperry closed the door behind them then circled his desk. “What can I do for you today, Miss Faraday? I was sorry to hear that your guardian has taken ill.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sperry. It does make it easier to see you though.”

“Yes, I imagine it would. Now, is something the matter?”

“Not entirely.” She could still hear the murmur of voices in the office beyond.

“I have questions for you regarding my inheritance, and I believe in order to make the best decisions for my future, I should be in possession of all the information I can garner.” She paused then dove in.

“I truly can only access it if I reach twenty-five unwed?”

Mr. Sperry stood and began rifling through files, pulling out her grandfather’s. “I’m afraid that is what it says, Miss Faraday.”

She knew that. She’d known that before coming here. But foolishly, she’d hoped that the answer would be different. “There are no loopholes? No strange wordings that might allow me to gain my inheritance... earlier?”

Mr. Sperry pursed his lips. “I have looked through the documents extensively—after all, I wrote the majority of them—but I can have a look once more if you wish.”

“If you would not mind.” The likelihood of him finding something was slim, and she knew it. He was only humoring her. Ultimately, her future came down to two options: remain unwed and secure her future on her own, or put her future into Lord Berkeley’s hands and tell him how she felt.

The idea made her chest feel jittery.

At least if he turned her down, she could always revert back to her original plan. Though it would be horribly embarrassing to remain in his home after a display of unrequited love.

“I will do that then, Miss Faraday. Was there anything else I might help you with?”

Lydia sighed. “No, thank you. I am sorry to have wasted your time.” She stood, embarrassed that she’d come to ask a question she already knew the answer to.

But as she began to turn back to the door, another question surfaced. “What would happen to the money if I do not receive it?”

“Your grandfather left instructions with charities to send it to.”

Lydia nodded. That was that then.

“I am sorry I could not be of more help.”

“It is no matter, Mr. Sperry. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course.” He started to circle his desk again but paused, glancing down at the polished wood before meeting her eyes again.

“If I may say, Miss Faraday... That is... If there is something you are considering forgoing the inheritance for, do be cautious in your decisions. Ensure that something is worth it. Excuse me if this is overstepping, but if you were my granddaughter, I do believe I would like her to weigh her options with a great deal of thought.”

Lydia nodded, her hand on the door and a grim smile on her face. “Thank you for the concern, Mr. Sperry. Good day.” She pushed back into the main room, finding Lord Berkeley alone.

“You are finished?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Lord Berkeley?” Mr. Sperry called. “Might I have a quick word?”

Lord Berkeley looked to Lydia as if looking for permission. She gestured that he go ahead, so he passed by her in the tiny office to meet Mr. Sperry at the door she’d just exited. Lord Berkeley did not close the door.

Mr. Sperry glanced over Lord Berkeley’s shoulder at Lydia, a question in his eyes.

Lord Berkeley turned and met her eye. “If it is about my business here, Miss Faraday is well aware of it all. You can say whatever you need.”

Mr. Sperry’s gray brows shot up. “Oh. Oh, very well then. I thought it pertinent that you know that there were some men here the other day asking questions about my clients. I told them nothing, of course, but then they asked if anyone else shared the office with me. I did not mention you, but I thought it odd that they would ask such a thing when only my name is above the door. It is likely nothing, but I thought you would want to know.”

Lord Berkeley made a sound of contemplation. “Thank you, Sperry. I will think on it.”

“You are welcome, my lord.”

Lydia waited until Lord Berkeley overtook her and opened the door. They bid Mr. Sperry farewell and ducked back onto the street.

“Was your business concluded successfully?” Lord Berkeley asked.

Lydia had a brief second to consider her answer. “Not entirely,” she said. “In truth, I am not sure why I came.”

Lord Berkeley paused on the walk as she had. This was not a conversation she wished to have within the carriage with Jones listening in. “Can I help in any way?”

Lydia snorted. Lord Berkeley was the complication just then. The fact that she’d begun seeing stars in her eyes at the thought—the mere thought—of a future with him was what was derailing all her plans for her future.

“Is something funny?” Lord Berkeley asked.

Lydia grimaced. “No, I apologize. I do not think anyone can help just now. I only wanted to know if I had another option.”

His brows rose. “Another option?”

She nodded, finding it hard to keep her eyes on his. “Than my avoiding marriage.”

He was quiet for several heartbeats. A group of gentlemen passed them on the street, bidding Lord Berkeley hello, to which he gave them a distracted sort of wave.

“You no longer wish to . . . avoid marriage?”

Her heart hammered against her chest. She could not very well admit her feelings in the midst of a crowded street. She nodded instead of trusting her voice.

“Do you have someone in mind?” His voice was very nearly strangled.

“I... well... That is...” A loud horse and carriage rumbled by, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts. But then a group of ladies and gentlemen began making their way down the walk toward them. Lydia nodded their way. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation at another time.”

Lord Berkeley followed her gaze, his jaw tight. “Yes, you are right.” His eyes returned to hers for several long moments before he offered his hand to help her into the carriage.

Lydia promised herself she would be honest with him soon. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. She only needed to procure a little courage first.