Page 57 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

“Mother, I have something to tell you,” Lucas announced upon entering the breakfast room the next morning and finding his mother alone.

She set down her cutlery, turning in her chair to face him. “I am at attention.”

“I am going to ask Miss Faraday to marry me.”

Mother clapped her hands together. “Truly? Oh, I had begun to despair.” She came to her feet, opening her arms wide.

Lucas came up short before meeting her. “But first, I understand you’ve been conspiring against me.”

“Your brother kept our secret longer than I anticipated,” she said with a smile.

Lucas shook his head. “I am perfectly capable of finding my own wife; I did not need interference.”

“I do apologize, but honestly, Lucas, you were planning to find a wife— planning ! I was under maternal obligation to help.”

“Very well, I forgive you. But only on the condition of your helping me.”

“Anything.”

“Lord Tarrington is dead, and Lydia needs to return to his estate.”

Mother’s shock was apparent. “Oh, the poor dear. She does not need another upheaval in her life.”

“I agree. I have offered to return her myself, but I would appreciate a little help in navigating what may be a messy change of guardianship. She has no idea who may be the next Lord Tarrington, and—”

A loud knock sounded at the door, interrupting him.

“That is an early caller. I will have Drake dispose of them.” Mother made for the door in the same moment it opened.

“There is an urgent missive for Miss Faraday, my lady,” the butler said.

“Thank you, Drake.” She took the letter then turned to Lucas with lifted brows. “Would you like to take it to her?”

More than anything. “Yes,” he said. “It is likely just reiterating what we already know, but I will take it. But after—I would like to borrow the traveling carriage, if I may. It would be best to help Lydia return to Tetbury as soon as possible.”

His mother appeared a bit hesitant. “I am not sure you two should travel alone...”

“You may send whomever you wish with us, but I am going with her.”

Her eyes softened. “You really care for her.”

An odd lump formed in his throat, and he coughed a bit to dislodge it. Then he nodded. “More than I thought possible.”

Her smile was wide. “Go on then, give her her letter. And tell us the moment you propose.” She paused in the act of picking up her cutlery.

“Do you realize what this means? A wedding! Grandchildren!” She sighed in near ecstasy, and chuckling, Lucas quit the room, taking the stairs two at a time.

He knocked on Lydia’s door with an eager sort of energy that he had not felt in years.

Maybe he should not have laughed at his mother.

His own insides felt very nearly buoyant.

It was strange but not at all unpleasant.

The maid opened the door, and Lucas looked over her shoulder, attempting to see into the room. Apparently, love was making him improper.

Love.

It felt right—if terrifying. But it seemed he would be facing his fears because he could not live without her.

The maid pulled the door close to her shoulder so he had less room to look. He cleared his throat. “I have an urgent missive for Miss Faraday.”

The maid held out her hand. “I will take it to her.”

Lucas hesitated.

“Oh, Jones, leave him be.” The door pulled open to reveal Lydia. Her hair was up—unfortunately—but her smile was just as bright as it had been when he’d left her the night before. “A letter, you said?”

He handed it to her then remained as she pulled back the seal. Before unfolding it, she glanced at Jones. “You can go, Jones, thank you.”

The maid gave Lucas an appraising look before leaving.

“It is from a solicitor,” Lydia said, eyes making their way down the page. But of a sudden, she stopped, mouth falling open a little.

“What is it?”

She blinked twice, meeting his eyes, then looking back at the paper. “I... It says...” Her reading seemed to speed up until she reached the end. “It... No, this cannot be right.”

“What cannot?”

She reached for him, grasping his sleeve and pulling him to her side so he could read the paper with her, but before he could even begin, she said, “It says I have inherited Lord Tarrington’s title.”

“What?” But now he was reading, and she was correct.

The solicitor requested she attend him at his office to go over the particulars, but in very clear, very neat writing, the facts were spelled out: Lord Tarrington was dead, the barony could pass through the female line, and Lydia was— “You are his niece?”

She made a wild, flustered sort of face at him as if to say she had not a clue. “No. I mean, I do not think so. Except—no, he has never said.”

Lucas rubbed a hand down the side of his face. “We ought to see the solicitor.”

“You think it may be true?” She looked up at him with wonder.

“This man certainly believes it is so.”

One hand was still fisted in his sleeve; the other clung to the paper. “Why would he not have told me? Why would he have—Lucas, will you go with me?”

“I offered to take you to Gretna Green, Lydia, I think a trip to Bond Street ought to be easily arranged.”

She seemed full of nervous energy as she crossed the room to grab her gloves and bonnet, passing the letter from her hand to under her arm to her hand again, as if she were loath to set it down.

Lucas watched her with fascination. At last, she appeared ready.

She turned back to him, face shining with anticipation. “Shall we?”

He held out his arm.

Just before she took it, her brow suddenly furrowed, and her upturned face revealed narrowed eyes. “You do realize that Gretna Green is where people go to be married, do you not?”

Lucas pushed out a humorous breath. “Yes, I am well aware.”

“Then you were . . .”

“Offering to marry you? It is not the most romantic of proposals, but I intended to make it more official soon.”

Her mouth was parted with some emotion he could not fully identify.

She had not taken his arm, but at long last, she grasped it.

It may have been his imagination, but he thought she seemed to pull herself closer than usual.

“I request that we complete this conversation as soon as we learn if I am a baroness. I would feel much better accepting a proposal from you if I were not so far beneath you, to own the truth.”

Lucas had begun escorting her down the hall, but at this, he stopped. “No.”

“No?” She looked up in confusion.

“I will not allow you to belittle yourself in such a manner. You, Lydia Faraday, are far above me in nearly everything except height.”

She snorted. “Height and social standing.”

“That does not matter one jot to me, and it should not to you either. In fact—hold on.”

“What are you doing?”

He was backing up several steps to be better situated and no longer have the distraction of her hand on his arm. After leaving her room the night before, he’d come up with many magnificent speeches he ought to have delivered. Unfortunate that they seemed to flee his mind at that moment.

“Lydia Faraday,” he began, hoping the words would come when he started. “You inconvenienced me when you first came into my life.”

“My, you paint a pretty picture,” she said, laughing.

He shook his head ruefully. “I mean you inconvenienced my way of living. You disrupted my plans and lit a fire in my heart that had long grown used to being cold. Each moment I see you, my spirits rise. Each smile you give me makes me wish to make you smile always. Lydia”—his voice became rougher with emotion—“you brought the sun back into my life.”

She bit her lips together, and he had to rush through the rest of his words, as he could hardly wait to return to her side.

“You are far more than a title or a past, and I desire nothing more than to be your future. I do not need whatever information we will receive at the solicitor’s.

I only need to know that I love you and you love me. Will you marry me?”

She was nodding, closing the gap between them. He met her willingly, taking her face in his hands.

“Society may judge our match. I do not even know who my family is,” she murmured.

“ I will be your family.”

A watery smile formed on her face. “I have admired you from the start, Lucas. Love was not far behind, though I tried my hardest to keep it at bay.”

One of the broken, unused portions of his heart seemed in that moment to mend. He brushed aside a tear escaping from her eye with the pad of his thumb. “I love you.”

She pushed up on her tiptoes, pressing soft lips to his. The pleasure of it touched every inch of him. His hands slipped to the nape of her neck as her eyes met his.

They spent several long moments like that, foreheads together, her hands grasping his wrists as he held her face, until he said, with a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, “Come. Now we can see your solicitor.” She heaved a sigh of long-suffering but released his hands.

Lucas gave direction to the carriage driver and handed her in, using a great deal of willpower not to repeat their actions from their last carriage ride.

***

The solicitor’s office was much larger and more tidy than Sperry’s.

Several clerks worked in the front room, and one greeted them before promising to collect his employer.

It was while they were waiting that they saw him—Mr. Frank Colbert came from a back room, holding several papers and not noticing their arrival.

Lucas tensed at the sight, but Lydia’s light hand atop his stopped him from confronting the man. Except then she froze in place, her head cocking in thought.

“What is it?” he asked, leaning close.

She nodded to Mr. Frank Colbert. “He called Lord Tarrington my uncle the night he took me. I thought it a slip of the tongue, but what if he knew?”

“Tarrington called Colbert a fortune hunter to my mother. He could only have been a fortune hunter if he knew of your forthcoming title. What if he confronted Tarrington with the information in an attempt to secure the barony for himself?”

The solicitor interrupted them then, pulling them back into his office, where he laid out the terms of Lord Tarrington’s will in no uncertain words. Lydia was a baroness. She was Lord Tarrington’s niece. He had been her father’s brother.

When Lucas asked for more information, the solicitor explained, “Mr. Faraday chose to live away from the family, taking on his mother’s maiden name, as I understand it, my lord.

He married outside the gentry, and that frustrated his father and brother, leading to a fairly permanent estrangement.

But there was no getting around that in the will—Miss Faraday will inherit everything—the title, the estate, the money—everything. ”

“That is probably why he tried so hard to marry me off,” Lydia said. “I doubt he trusted me with his estate—he wanted a man to manage it.”

Lucas scoffed at that. “I do not know if Lord Tarrington had met you, if he truly believed you could be managed.”

That earned him an amused look from Lydia, but then she turned to the solicitor. “Who else was aware of this?”

The man squinted at her. “I do not know what you mean.”

“Besides my uncle, would anyone have known I was set to inherit?”

The solicitor frowned. “Not that I am aware of. Some of my clerks work the files, but that is all.”

Lucas and Lydia exchanged a glance. Could that really have been Colbert’s reason in pursuing her? Had he been aware of her title? They may never know, but it was certainly a high possibility, one that made Lucas dislike the man even more. Lydia had far more to recommend herself than a barony.

“Thank you. I imagine we will be seeing you again soon,” Lydia said, brushing a hand down her skirt in preparation to rise.

The solicitor nodded, coming to his feet as Lydia did. “I will get everything in order for you.”

“Thank you again.”