Page 3 of The Truth about the Duke (Whispers of the Ton #5)

Chapter Two

“ B ut you know that I have no desire to attend the ball!”

Lady Hampshire sighed loudly and turned her head away in clear frustration. “Lydia, I will hear no more of your complaints! Your father and I are well aware that you have no desire to be present here in London, that you have no interest in being presented to the King and you do not want to be a part of society. We have heard it from you almost every day since the very first moment that we stated it was to be your come out. Yet still, you do not seem to understand that what you do not desire is to come about regardless of your feelings on the matter!”

Taking in her appearance, Lydia let out a quiet sigh, trying to tell herself that her protests would, in some way, make a difference even though – as her mother had only just pointed out – they had not done anything as yet. The cream gown was not a color that suited her, she considered, given her reddish curls and green eyes. Yet, it was the only one that her mother would consider Lydia wearing, despite her complaints. Apparently, a debutante did not wear anything other than pale colors, though Lydia herself would have much preferred a dark shade of green or some such thing.

“Now.” Her mother came towards her and took her hands in both of hers, a stern look in her eyes. “You will listen to me, Lydia, or I will have your father come to speak with you.”

Lydia shrunk just a little, fully aware that her love of learning, of reading and exploring, was not something that her father had ever encouraged. The only person she had ever had to champion her in that way had been her elder brother, Rupert. Though given that he had recently married and taken hold of his own estate, Lydia had no one to support her. She felt the loss of his presence keenly, especially in moments like this.

“Your father and I have expectations of you, my dear.” Even though her mother spoke kind words, there was no softness in her tone, no gentleness or even a hint of understanding. “You are not to do anything that would make anyone here in London realize how much of a bluestocking you are. Do I make myself quite clear?”

Lydia nodded, turning her head away.

“You are to speak only when spoken to, you will acknowledge and greet every gentleman and lady that you are introduced to in the correct manner and you will not let a single word about your recent… ” Her lip curled in distaste. “Your recent learning come of your mouth.”

“Yes, Mama.”

There was nothing more for Lydia to say but to agree. Arguing with her mother would do nothing and she had to acknowledge that her complaints were gaining her no ground either.

Though I do not intend to permit her to continue to guide my every step, she considered, as her mother wittered on just how little Lydia cared for propriety and how learning and reading extensively was not something that a young lady ought to be pursuing. I will find a way to make as much enjoyment of society as I can, despite these less than delightful circumstances.

“Are you listening to me?”

Lydia started lightly, then looked back at her mother. “Yes, of course. I have every intention of doing as you have asked.”

Her mother shook her head and sighed before stepping away, making for the door, and then throwing a glance towards Lydia, clearly expecting her to follow. With a nod, Lydia hurried after her, fully aware that her mother’s ire was already raised.

“Your father is waiting in the carriage already, and he knows very well what I have said to you before our departure,” Lady Hampshire continued, as they walked along the hallway to the open front door. “Do not think to let either of us down this evening, Lydia. Or it will be all the worse for you.”

“Yes, I have some dances still remaining.” Lydia’s jaw tightened as she kept her smile fixed. “Thank you, Lord Bridgemouth. You are very kind.” She dared a glance at her mother as she spoke, relieved to see that there was a small smile on her face rather than the glower she had been wearing thus far.

“How delightful!” Lord Bridgemouth – a gentleman with such a sharp nose that Lydia had trouble not staring at it – bent his head low and then wrote his name on her dance card. “I do always look forward to dancing with the young ladies, particularly the debutantes.”

“Is that so?” A little surprised – and slightly worried – but that certain remark, Lydia lifted an eyebrow. “And why might that be?”

Lord Bridgemouth grinned but it was not a pleasant smile. “Why, it is a pleasure to step out with such innocent young ladies, those who have never stepped out in society before. It brings me a sense of contentment to show them some of what London society is about.”

“Mmm.” Lydia tilted her head, her eyes narrowing just a little. “I must say, I – ”

A hand set onto Lydia’s shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. “That is so very kind of you, Lord Bridgemouth. I am certain that a good many debutantes are grateful to you for such a kindness.” Lady Hampshire pressed her fingers all the more tightly and Lydia fought not to wince. “My own daughter included.”

“Yes, indeed,” Lydia managed to spit out, though her smile was no longer present given the pain her mother’s fingers were pulsing through her shoulder. “I look forward to our dance, Lord Bridgemouth.”

The gentleman beamed at her, clearly entirely unaware of all that Lydia had been about to say and the questions she had been about to ask. Turning away, he walked to the very next young lady near to them and Lydia rolled her eyes, before snapping them back into place as her mother’s hand finally lifted.

“Lydia, what did I tell you?” Hissing out of the corner of her mouth, the Countess swung around to face Lydia. “You are not to – ”

“Lydia? Is that you?”

A familiar voice sent a flurry of relief through Lydia as she turned on her heel, ignoring her mother in an instant as she flung her arms tightly around her friend – and quickly heard her mother tut disapprovingly.

She did not care.

“Sophie! How glad I am to see you!”

Sophie, now Lady Markham, grasped Lydia’s hands tightly, her eyes shining. “Not as glad as I am to see you!”

“I did not think that you would be in London this Season!” Lydia exclaimed, still ignoring her mother’s presence. “After your marriage last summer, I thought you would be enjoying summer at Lord Markham’s estate!”

Her dear friend smiled. “My husband is to bring his sister into society and make certain she finds a match. Thus, I am here in London again and overwhelmed with delight and joy at seeing you again! We have so much to talk about, so much to share, I am sure!”

Lady Hampshire cleared her throat and Lydia closed her eyes briefly, her happiness beginning to evaporate.

“Good evening, Lady Hampshire.” Lady Markham dropped into a quick curtsy, a warm smile on her face. “I must apologize for my lack of greeting, I was so caught up with delight in seeing Lydia again!”

A hint of a smile touched the edge of Lady Hampshire’s lips, though it quickly dropped. “Of course, Lady Markham. I do hope you have settled into your husband’s estate?”

“I have, yes.” With a warm smile, Lady Markham glanced at Lydia, jerking her head just a little to the left as Lydia began to smile, understanding what her friend meant for her to do. “And since I am now wed, I would be very glad indeed to help chaperone Lydia. My husband is well acquainted with many of the gentlemen here in London – the unattached ones, I mean – and I would be able to make many excellent introductions.”

“How very kind of you, Sophie!” Lydia exclaimed, looping her arm through her friend’s before her mother even had a chance to protest. “I shall return with my dance card quite full, I am sure.”

She stepped away quickly, hearing her mother splutter behind her but much to Lydia’s relief, nothing more was said or done to prevent her from taking her leave. They had only taken a few steps when Lydia let out a burst of laughter, quickly joined by Sophie.

“You did very well, my dear friend,” Lydia giggled, as they both continued to weave their way through the crowd. “You are clearly very well aware that I have no interest or desire to be in company with my mother on this occasion!”

“I am sure that you have no desire to be at this occasion or any other occasion, is that not so?” Sophie lifted an eyebrow as Lydia winced. “You are still just as much of a bluestocking as ever.”

Lydia slowed her steps just a little. “And you are not?”

Her friend chuckled softly. “I am, of course.”

“And your husband still does not mind that you are just as eager to learn and study as he?” Lydia’s heart ached desperately as her friend nodded, seeing the smile on her lips and wishing that she too might have had the same freedoms as Sophie. They had known each other from childhood, for Sophie’s father, the Viscount of Althorpe, was close friends with Lydia’s father, the Earl of Hampshire. They were almost like sisters might be, sharing the same interests and hobbies and, with that, an ever increasing friendship. The only difference was that Sophie’s good parents had been quite contented to have their daughter learn and study but Lydia’s parents had behaved as though Lydia was stricken with some sort of malady. Thus, she had been forced to hide her books, to do what she could to prevent them from discovering just how much of a bluestocking she was… though her education provided her with wisdom, understanding, and a knowledge of present circumstances within the world that could not be hidden away no matter how much she tried.

“Your mother and father still dislike all that you have become?”

Lydia gave her friend a small, sad smile. “You still can read my thoughts, it seems. Yes, in answer to your question.” She closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the wave of sadness to crash over her. “They have warned me that I am not to speak a word out of turn during my time here in London, though quite how I am to marry a gentleman who does not know the truth about who I am, I cannot imagine.”

Her friend reached to press her hand. “I am sorry. That must be a difficult struggle for you.” The edge of her lip curved upwards. “Though I expect that you do not have any intention of doing what it is that they ask of you.”

Lydia grinned, her sadness quickly evaporating in the light of being in the presence of someone who not only understood her but valued her desire to learn. “You are quite correct there, my friend. No, I have no intention of behaving as they expect me to. I shall upset them should they discover it, but now that I have you by my side, I must hope that I will be able to do as I please as often as I can!”

“So long as your mother permits it?”

Lydia’s smile grew. “As often as I can slip away from her, then yes. And I have every intention of doing so just as often as I can.”

“ Where have you been?”

Lydia ignored her mother’s sharp remark and lifted her chin just a little. “My dance card is almost full, Mama. Are you not pleased?”

This seemed to take some of the fury from Lady Hampshire’s frame, for her shoulders dropped almost at once and the tight slash that had been her lips softened.

“Should you like to see?” Lydia held out her dance card for her mother to see, noticing how Lady Hampshire’s eyes widened. “Sophie was as good as her word.”

“I can see that.” Lady Hampshire’s voice had quietened now, her eyes still holding a little surprise. “I did not think… well, that is good. Though I have just heard that there is a Duke present this evening and I am determined to have you introduced to him.”

Lydia’s shoulders slumped. Sophie had done just as she had promised in introducing Lydia to various gentlemen, though she had been very careful in her selection. The gentlemen that were now listed on Lydia’s dance card were all those who Sophie considered to be both genteel and understanding, given that they might one day learn of Lydia’s love of learning and the like. Her mother, on the other hand, would introduce her to any and every gentleman – the higher the title, the better – rather than have any consideration for the sort of gentleman that her daughter might prefer.

“The Duke of Melrose is his name.” Lady Hampshire leaned a little closer to Lydia, her eyes sharp. “And you will behave with the utmost propriety, Lydia. Else you will be whispered about by all of the beau monde and bring shame to not only yourself but also to your family name.”

Lydia scowled. “I have no intention of bringing shame to anyone, Mama. I simply wish to be myself.”

“And yet, you shall not be permitted to be so.” Lady Hampshire looked all across the room, her hand snaking around Lydia’s arm. “There he is, now. Come, I can see that Lady Newton is speaking with him and since I am acquainted with her, she will be able to introduce us!”

There was no choice but for Lydia to go along with her mother’s intentions, being half pulled through the crowd of guests as Lady Hampshire walked with determination towards the Duke. Lydia managed to make him out, seeing that he stood almost half a head taller than the other gentlemen near him. The closer she came, the more her instincts turned against this fellow. Yes, he might well be a Duke and with the highest title in all of London, but it was clear to her, she considered, that he was arrogant and superior. The way he let his gaze rove around each and every face near to him, the way his lip curled just a little, his chin lifted – did that not speak of haughtiness and condescension? Yes, he was handsome – as every Duke should be – but his manner alone turned her away from him.

“Oh, is that you, Lady Newton?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at the way her mother spoke, hearing the feigned surprise and the tinkling laugh that followed it. As she did so, her eyes lit upon the Duke of Melrose for just a moment and caught the way he looked at her. His eyebrow was lifted, clearly surprised that she would do such an unladylike thing as to roll her eyes when in company.

That only made Lydia want to do so again.

“Lady Hampshire, how wonderful to see you!” Lady Newton bobbed a curtsy and then gestured to the Duke and the gentleman beside him. One who appeared to be a good more amiable given the way he was smiling, a gentleness in his expression. “I was just speaking with the Marquess of Kendall and the Duke of Melrose. Are you acquainted with either of these fine gentlemen?”

“No, I am not. And nor is my daughter.” Lady Hampshire gestured towards Lydia, only for another gentleman to hurry towards them all.

Lydia smiled broadly, inwardly thrilled that she now had an excuse not to be introduced to the arrogant Duke. “Viscount Glenville! Is it our dance already?”

Lord Glenville, a gentleman with a shock of dark hair and a rather youthful face, beamed at her, perhaps delighted at her eagerness. “Yes, Lady Lydia, it is.”

“Oh, but I was just about to – ”

“I cannot have Lord Glenville left waiting, Mama,” Lydia answered, though she kept her voice low so as not to be overheard by the Duke, Lord Kendall, or Lady Newton. “We might miss our dance entirely! I shall return to you the moment this dance is at an end, of course.”

She did not wait but stepped away with Lord Glenville at once, silently triumphant. Her mother’s intentions to introduce her to various gentlemen had, for the moment, been foiled and the rest of the evening would be spent in the company of gentlemen who might not view her bluestocking ways with as much dislike and disinclination as her very own mother and father! Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Lydia caught the Duke of Melrose’s heavy frown, perhaps displeased that she had dared to set aside an introduction to him in favor of a Viscount but she did not care in the least. With a smile on her face, she was led towards the dance floor and, as it quickly began, set all thoughts of the Duke of Melrose from her mind.