Page 47 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Lydia had finished patching Charlie up and helped him to his room, and now she was doing her best to tidy the drawing room with the help of one of the maids.

Lady Cheltenham didn’t deserve to return home to the mess that they’d left—blood on the chair and rug, a vase knocked over in their haste, a pile of linens, and a table pushed aside.

Every so often, she glanced out the window. It would likely be hours until Lord Berkeley returned, but seeing the state Charlie had been in had Lydia worried for Lucas’s safety.

Which was silly. He was a pugilist—she’d seen him in action and knew he was capable. Yet still, she worried. Should she call the Cheltenhams home? Yes, that was the next best solution. Though they wouldn’t get a message for several hours yet, they should be apprised of what was occurring.

“Do you need anything else, miss?” the maid asked, hovering nearby and sending nervous glances to the stained rug.

“Yes, could you see that a footman is sent to inform Lord and Lady Cheltenham that Lord Charles has been hurt? He fares well enough, but if they might end their engagement early, that would be best.”

The maid nodded, curtsied, and left. After alternating between pacing and staring out the darkening window for another ten to fifteen minutes, Lydia decided to give cleaning the stains a try.

She went in search of the housekeeper and some more rags and supplies, but as she passed the front door, a knock sounded.

The butler was not nearby, but a footman went straight for the door, pulling it open. Lydia was about to continue in her search when she heard her own name.

“I am here to see Miss Faraday. Is she available?”

The footman gave no indication that she was behind him even then, only responding with a cool, proper voice. “Might I ask who is calling?”

“Mr. Frank Colbert.”

Lydia’s brows rose. What was Mr. Frank Colbert doing here? She’d seen him occasionally over the last few weeks, but never for longer than a dance or a passing conversation.

The footman nodded. “I will see if she is at home.”

Lydia stepped back, hiding in the dining room just as the footman allowed Mr. Frank Colbert into the hall. Then, not showing any amount of emotion—perhaps he’d learned from Lord Berkeley—the footman stepped into the dining room.

“A Mr. Frank Colbert to see you, miss,” he said in an undertone. “Are you at home to his call?”

Lydia glanced down at herself, her dress fairly ruined, and her hair certainly a mess. She nearly said no, but her curiosity won out. What if—somehow—he had news regarding the mess they’d found themselves in tonight? Why else would he arrive this late to the home?

“Yes, please,” she said but then she paused. “Is there someplace he could wait besides the drawing room?”

“The back sitting room should suffice.”

“Very good. Have him wait there. I will return... momentarily.” She looked down on herself again, wondering how quickly she could change. “And could you have my maid sent to my room?”

“Certainly, miss.” The footman bowed. “Is there anything else?” Lydia liked this man and how he was treating her with respect and kindness, despite her station being far lower than that of her hosts.

“No, thank you.”

He bowed again, leaving the room. Lydia left through another door to make her way up the stairs. She hurried into her room, happy to find Jones already there.

“Jones, help me into a new dress, will you?”

Jones’s eyes swept down her currently ruined dress, but for once, she did not bat an eye. Perhaps she had given up on Lydia acting as a normal lady ought to. Thank the heavens. The maid turned and readied a dress while Lydia shimmied from her ruined one.

It took longer than she’d anticipated, but she was soon put back together and able to enter the sitting room in which Mr. Frank Colbert waited.

He immediately jumped to his feet. “Miss Faraday, I do apologize for my rather unusually timed visit, but you are radiant as always.” He swept into a bow.

“Thank you, Mr. Frank Colbert. Please, sit. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

She had been prepared to leave the room to call for tea but turned back to Mr. Frank Colbert instead. They sat, him smiling broadly and unabashedly at her.

“What prompts this visit? And at such a late time?” she asked when he did not say anything.

“I was saddened to see you did not attend Lord and Lady Cheltenham tonight.”

“Oh? Were you attending the same party?”

He nodded. “Indeed. I found the company rather dull and thought to see after your health.” He smiled again.

“I am sure Lord or Lady Cheltenham could have told you that it was not poor health that kept me from attending.” The way he continued to smile at her, as if she were a prize horse he was certain would win, was making her wish to remove to a seat farther away.

“Yes, yes, of course, but I could not believe it until I saw you for myself.”

“Well, I am flattered, but as you see, I am in fine form.”

“Fine, indeed.”

She grew exponentially more uncomfortable. “Are you certain you would not like some tea?”

His smile faltered for the briefest of moments. “No, thank you.” He pressed his lips together, watching her with a calculated look. “I must admit I did have one reason to call beyond seeing after your health.”

Lydia glanced over her shoulder at the door. It still stood propped open, which gave her a semblance of peace. She turned back. “Yes?”

“Seeing your hosts out tonight without you had me realizing that I may not receive another such opportunity.”

“An opportunity?”

“To speak with you alone.”

Lydia’s eyes widened. “Whatever for?”

Mr. Frank Colbert swallowed. “To tell you how greatly I... I admire and care for you.”

Lydia pulled back. “You . . . what?”

His eyes were drinking her and her response in. He nodded emphatically. “My feelings can no longer be contained. Please, Miss Faraday—or may I call you Lydia? Please say you will marry me.”

All she could do was stare at him in a horrified sort of shock.

“Lydia?” he asked when she did not respond.

She wet her lips, only to give herself more time to think. “I am... flattered, Mr. Frank Colbert.”

He nodded as if he’d expected that. “Then you say yes?”

“No. I cannot accept.” Her brow was furrowed, and she was sure her expression was rudely confused, but she could not help it. Maybe he was suddenly expressing interest in her because she was now connected with the marquess and marchioness?

A panicked look crossed his face but was quickly replaced with a charming grin. “I am sorry, I should not have sprung it on you so. I understand if you need some time to think on it.”

She came to her feet. He followed suit almost eagerly. “You have certainly flattered me, but I can assure you, I do not need more time to think on it.”

He lunged for her hand as she began to retreat for the door.

It wasn’t until he was holding hers that she realized she’d neglected to replace her gloves.

She looked at their intertwined fingers, unsure what to do.

He took her momentary confusion as an opportunity to move closer.

“I will give you time, Lydia, but I cannot promise I am patient.” He brought his other hand up to her face, but she leaned back. Quickly, she disengaged their hands.

“Please leave, Mr. Frank Colbert.”

“Call me Frank.”

She gave only a pained smile in response, moving swiftly in the direction of the door. She exited swiftly, spotting the butler and saying, “Mr. Frank Colbert is going now.”

Thankfully, Mr. Frank Colbert did not push back anymore. Though he did grab her hand as he passed her, pressing it to his lips before she could react. Then he was gone, promising to return the next day to call on her.

Lydia stared after him, wiping the back of her hand on her skirt.

“Are you well, Miss Faraday?”

Her gaze snapped to the butler’s. “Yes, thank you. I will just...” She recalled all the events of the evening. “Will you find the housekeeper for me?” She still needed to try to remove those stains.

He bowed and left.

She took just a moment to stare blankly into the space in front of her before taking a bolstering breath and returning to the drawing room, shaking off the foul feeling that had come over her as Mr. Frank Colbert had made his advances. How could she possibly have ever found the man attractive?

Though, she supposed she might be a bit biased now. She had fallen in love with the most attractive and wonderful man of her acquaintance.

She could only hope that kiss had meant that Lucas felt the same. And hope that he would return to her in one piece after this night.

***

Not half an hour after Mr. Frank Colbert left, there was another pounding knock on the door. Now wary, Lydia stood beside the door to the drawing room so she might hear but not be seen by whomever had arrived.

“Drake, where’s Lucas?” an agitated voice demanded.

“Lord Berkeley is out.”

“Blast!”

Hearing Lord Berkeley’s name, Lydia couldn’t stay put. She walked into the hall, meeting the eyes of the stranger at the door.

“You,” the man said. “Do you know where Lucas is?”

Lydia held herself upright. “And you are?”

“Henry. Where is Lucas?”

Lydia peered at him, chewing the inside of her cheek.

“If I may, Miss Faraday, Sir Henry is one of Lord Berkeley’s close friends,” the butler offered, still maintaining a professional look even while he cut into their conversation.

Lydia looked back to the man. He was about Lord Berkeley’s age, lanky, with dark circles under his eyes. Though he did not appear familiar to her, she recalled his name. Lady Bowcott had mentioned a friend of her husband’s and Lord Berkeley’s. Someone named Henry.

“Why do you need Lord Berkeley?” she asked.

The man pressed his eyes shut for half a pained second then pierced her with a look. He stepped inside, and the butler closed the door behind him and moved to the edge of the room, giving them a modicum of privacy without leaving her alone with the man.

“I believe he’s in danger.”

“What? Why?”

He let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “I was playing cards with some men tonight when I heard them speaking of Lucas. Not by name. They said they roughed up the marquess’s son real well and he wouldn’t be bothering them anymore—”

Relief shot through her, and she cut him off. “That was Charlie, but he is well and home now, and Lord Berkeley went to—”

“He didn’t go after the men?” Sir Henry sounded incredulous and not at all as relieved as Lydia felt.

“Well, I do not know exactly, but he said he would return.”

“When? When will he return?”

“He said this evening, but it was already encroaching on evening when he left, and—”

“Woman, it is nigh on midnight, and he is not back?”

The butler took a step toward them at Sir Henry’s explosion, but Lydia was growing frustrated with being on the receiving end of this stranger’s wrath for no reason beyond not having the answers he sought. Did he think she did not wish she had all the same answers herself?

She pulled herself up to her full height. “Sir Henry, you may not put much stock in Lord Berkeley’s capabilities to keep himself safe, but I do. If he says he will return, he will. Now, would you please stop shouting at me?”

Chagrin did not even touch the man’s face. He did not back down. “You do not understand. These men are the worst sort. If Lucas went after them... and alone? I need to find him. Do you have any idea where he’s gone?”

Fear sliced through her at his words, and suddenly, she was just as agitated as he. “No. Well, maybe.”

“I’ll take a maybe.”

“I do not know exactly where it is, though. I’ve been there once, but it was dark, and I—Charlie would know.”

The man nodded and pushed his way up the stairs without another thought.

If Lydia had been worried that he did not truly have a connection to the Cheltenhams, she was not any longer, as he went straight for Charlie’s room without need of direction.

Lydia hurried behind him, lifting her skirts to move more quickly.

The door to Charlie’s room knocked into the wall with the force that Sir Henry pushed it open. Charlie sat up abruptly in bed with a yelp.

“Charlie, where is Lucas?” Sir Henry demanded.

Charlie blinked at them, one eye squinting more than the other.

Lydia stepped up behind Sir Henry. “Sorry, Charlie. We need to know where your brother’s club is.”

Charlie groaned, grabbing his head. “Ah... Great Peter Street. Off Victoria.”

Sir Henry slapped his hand against his thigh and pivoted as he walked back to the door.

Lydia followed. “What do you intend to do?”

“Find Lucas.”

“But you do not have anything but the street.” She was tired of waiting around. “I will come with you. Give me but a moment, and I will grab my cloak.”

Sir Henry glanced over at her, looking her up and down. “No.”

“No? You need me. I have seen the club. I can help you.”

“Me too.” Charlie had appeared in the doorway they’d just left, still holding his head, but standing up straight.

Sir Henry groaned. “Lucas will kill me if I get either of you mixed up in this.”

“We already are,” Charlie grumbled.

Sir Henry pointed at Charlie. “You are half dead on your feet. And you—” His hand swung to Lydia. “You are a woman I do not even know.”

“I do not see why that means we cannot help you locate the club,” Lydia said.

“I still have the other half of me that is not dead,” Charlie offered.

“I only need one of you then. And I choose Charlie.”

“If you are worried about Lord Berkeley’s wrath, leaving me alone at home would anger him just as much,” she bluffed. She would have been content staying home, but after hearing how terrible these men were that Lord Berkeley was up against, she had to see that he was all right.

“You are in a home full of servants; you will be all right.”

Though a reasonable argument, Lydia was not feeling particularly reasonable. “And you are wasting our time fighting me!”

The man ground his teeth, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he swore under his breath and threw up his hands. “Fine, but you will both stay in the carriage.”

Lydia nodded, agreeing to the terms. Not waiting another moment, she ran the few doors down to her room and grabbed her cloak.

She wasn’t sure how long the men would wait for her, so she immediately spun around and retraced her steps.

They had made it to the foot of the stairs, and Sir Henry did not seem pleased to see her.

But he said nothing, yanking open the front door and marching out into the night.