Page 55 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

“This reflects very poorly on Lord and Lady Cheltenham and their kindness.”

Lydia did not spare a look for Jones as she folded another article of clothing and stuffed it into her trunk.

“I do not intend to slip out in the middle of the night like some vagabond, Jones. I will inform the marquess and marchioness of my departure in the morning. I simply want to be prepared to leave at the earliest convenience.”

Jones made to retort, but Lydia’s head snapped up, spearing her with a gaze. “I am decided in this, and you will not sway me. My place is in Tetbury until the new Lord Tarrington decides otherwise. I would appreciate it if you would aid me rather than contradicting me at every turn.”

Her maid’s mouth opened and closed, and then she nodded.

Lydia could not even revel in the success at having managed to get someone to listen to her.

Nor could she feel guilty for fairly yelling at the woman who truly had been kind to her, if a little heavy-handed.

Her mind was attempting to feel nothing at the moment, to think of nothing but leaving, at which point she would come up with what she ought to do next.

But just now, the events of the last two days were causing her to lean more toward apathy than she might have wished.

But apathy was far preferred to the pain of heartbreak.

***

Candles had been lit to combat the growing darkness when Lucas finally entered the house. But he had needed the time to think, to determine which aspects of his life he had gotten as wholly wrong as how he’d been remembering his sister’s life with sorrow.

He was nowhere near deciding anything though.

It was all too much a tangle, and it was growing frustrating trying to discover which things had always been a part of his temperament and which had been self-imposed atonements for his part in his sister’s death.

Removing those atonements was sure to cause even more difficulty.

He was beginning to wonder if he wanted to do it at all, but he kept drawing back to mind his father’s words and the feeling he’d had when he chuckled at a remembrance of his sister. It fueled his desire to try.

As he passed into the family wing, the entire house quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the door that was Miss Faraday’s.

A pang of longing and disappointment hit him, causing him to stop.

If only he could manage to unravel this mess of emotions faster—if only he could have treated her better and never brought the look of horror and disgust to her face that she’d had upon quitting the study that morning.

Maybe he might begin anew. Perhaps he could convince her to care for him again—broken though he was. Yet he feared that it was impossible. After how he’d treated her, could she ever forgive him? Enough to love him?

Dash it all, though, he still wished to try.

Would it be possible to mend the friendship first?

To gain back her trust? He would even be willing to wait for her to receive her inheritance if it would help her to know she had control of her own life.

She’d been willing to give up so much for him, and he’d just thrown it back in her face.

But hope made him nonsensical. Maybe there was a chance.

He would apologize, and then he would court her as if his life depended on it—for it did.

It was a plan. And heaven knew he was very comfortable following a plan.

He stared at her door a moment longer, holding back from the wish to knock on it just then. He forced his feet to keep moving, but then another door caught his eye. Charlie’s.

Not bothering to knock for fear of waking his brother if he slept, Lucas pushed the door open. Charlie sat on the bed, a book in his hands. He looked up as Lucas entered.

“First you nearly lead me to an early death, now you enter my room without permission? Honestly, I am not sure which is worse.” The jest was clear, though Lucas did feel a residual jolt of dismay at the first part of it.

“The room, certainly,” he returned, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed.

Charlie smirked. “You know, I think you are right.”

Lucas shook his head with a hint of a smile. “I came to see how you fare.”

Charlie shrugged, grimaced, then responded. “Well enough. I am certain to have scars that will endear me to the fairer sex.”

“I am sorry, Charlie.”

Instead of accepting his apology, Charlie scoffed—loudly. Then he threw his book onto the bed and sat forward more. “Would you stop apologizing?”

Lucas frowned. “I only did it the one time.”

“But you are always apologizing or, worse, acting so benignly and perfectly that you would never owe another an apology. Truly, brother, would you stop? It is as if the entirety of your personality has become one great apology, and I, as your brother, have a duty to inform you that it is bland and frustrating all at once. I imagine you will even apologize when proposing to Miss Faraday. I can see it now—” He lifted his hands in front of him as if painting a picture with his palms. “Miss Faraday, I offer myself to you, body and soul—Oh, my apologies, body, soul, and heart. And I apologize for taking so blasted long to come to realize my affection—” He cut himself off there, raising a brow at Lucas.

“Actually, you should apologize for that part.”

Lucas was honestly shocked, less at the display of mirth and more at what Charlie was saying. “I have no intention of proposing to Miss Faraday.” Yet. And he didn’t really appreciate Charlie rubbing dirt in that particular wound just now.

Charlie stared at him. “Are you daft?”

Lucas was beginning to feel so.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Lucas met his brother’s eye. No point lying. “Yes.”

Instead of answering, Charlie scooted to the edge of the bed, grunting a bit at the exertion.

Lucas backed up. “What are you doing?”

“I do not know, but I know I cannot talk sense into you lying in bed. It’s the—ugh—” He shifted again. “The principle of the thing.” Finally, he made it to the edge, his feet hitting the floor, and he pierced Lucas with a look. “Do you want to know why I chose not to court Miss Faraday?”

“Because you determined you were not ready to marry just yet.”

“Well, yes, but besides that.”

Lucas watched him suspiciously. “You gave no other reason.”

“I intend to now. I chose not to court Miss Faraday because I knew you would get on far better with her than I. I knew it that first day, in all honesty, but I enjoyed her company, and I enjoyed forcing you to spend time with someone who so clearly put you out of sorts.”

“That makes no sense at all.”

“Mother thought it brilliant.”

Lucas almost laughed at the inclusion of his mother in this conversation. The woman had tried desperately to get Charlie to marry Miss Faraday, and if his brother thought otherwise, he was clearly misinformed. “Mother wanted you to marry Miss Faraday.”

Charlie actually laughed, grasping a pillow and pressing it into his stomach as if the mirth caused his injuries pain. “I told Mother my thoughts within a week of meeting Lydia. She thought it a brilliant plan to allow your infatuation with the woman to grow.”

“But she asked me to join in her matchmaking. For you.”

Charlie raised a brow. “She was only throwing you off the scent. Come now—you know how clever she is. If you doubt it, ask yourself, did she actually attempt any matchmaking?”

Lucas’s mind turned over itself, attempting to place one specific matchmaking moment. He could not come up with one. But that did not mean that she wanted him to marry Miss Faraday. Did it?

Charlie was nodding. “I see you are trying to puzzle things out, but Lucas, you cannot logic yourself out of this one.”

He ignored his brother, latching on to one moment he’d just recollected. “Mother was angry with me for kissing her.”

Charlie whooped, startling Lucas backward a step. “You kissed her? Blast, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“Shut up,” Lucas said. “The point is, Mother was angry.”

“Angry that you would kiss a woman you were not engaged to or even formally courting? Oh dear, I wonder why,” Charlie offered dryly. He had a point. Even if they’d been engaged, Mother likely would have been upset at the possible darkening of Miss Faraday’s reputation.

“Yours and Mother’s conspiring against me aside, there is much more at play here than you realize, Charlie. I will handle it myself.”

“So you will be proposing to her?”

“Little brothers are annoying.” But Lucas couldn’t help the slight lift of his lips. “Maybe. Someday.”

Charlie threw his pillow at Lucas. It was so unexpected that the thing actually made contact, smacking Lucas flush in the face. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Maybe. Someday,” Charlie said in an idiotic voice. “What does that even mean? You’re in love with her, and clearly you’ve hoodwinked her into caring for you too—go ask her to marry you. Conveniently, she is only two doors down!”

Lucas stepped back again, physically retreating from such a terrifying prospect. “It is not as easy as all that. As I said, there is much more at play here than you think.”

Charlie rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “Stop thinking , Lucas. Just act. Let your guard down for a moment. You may be surprised at what occurs.”

Lucas hesitated. It couldn’t be so easy.

But it was so very tempting.

Charlie pushed to his feet. “Just go tell her, Lucas. Put yourself—and this whole blasted household—out of our misery.”

Lucas flexed his hands. “I do not deserve her.”

“Of course you don’t, but you will try. Every day of your life, you will try.” Charlie spoke with a fervor Lucas hardly recognized.

Was this fair to Lydia? He’d only just embarked on his attempts to regain some of the life he’d had before Marietta’s death. He could not force his brokenness on Lydia and...

And he was scared. “If she does not accept me? If she won’t forgive me for how I’ve treated her?” he asked in a whisper so soft, he rather hoped Charlie would not hear it.

Charlie shook his head as if he didn’t believe it possible, but all he said was, “Only one way to find out.” And then, he walked—hobbled, really—to the door.

“What are you doing now?”

“Making sure you tell her.”

“It is the middle of the night.”

“It is hardly ten o’clock, you idiot.” He opened the door.

“She may be asleep.”

With a grand sweep of his arm, he pointed into the hall and repeated, “Only one way to find out.”

Lucas followed him to the door. “No, Charlie, this is not how it is done.”

“It is now.” And, like the pesky little brother he was, he—surprisingly swiftly—hobbled his way two doors down and knocked briskly on Miss Faraday’s door.

Lucas nearly overtook him, but then Charlie was turning back to his own room, Miss Faraday’s door was opening, and Lucas was caught frozen in his steps at the visage of her, hair in a braid over her shoulder, standing in the doorway.

But what caught his eye next was the large trunk open in the room beyond.

His stomach bottomed out. “You’re leaving?”

Charlie muttered, “That’s my cue.” And his door clicked shut.