Page 5 of The Truth about the Duke (Whispers of the Ton #5)
Chapter Four
“ L ydia?”
Lydia’s heart slammed hard against her ribs as she quickly rose from her chair, setting the book down on the seat behind her before sitting back down again. Then, with haste in every movement, she reached for her embroidery – a piece that she had been working on for some months now and had made very little progress with. Not that her mother would notice, however.
“Ah, here you are.” Lady Hampshire stepped into the drawing room though her eyes quickly darted all around Lydia rather than looking directly into her face. “What are you doing?”
Lydia held up her embroidery, aware that her mother’s sharp gaze was solely because of her fear that Lydia had been reading again. “This.”
“I see.” There was no sense of trust in Lady Hampshire’s voice, only doubt but Lydia did not care. Yes, her seat was now a little uncomfortable because of the book she now sat on but she had no intention of shifting to her feet, no matter how long she had to sit there!
“I wanted to speak with you about your conversation with Lord Kendall and the Duke of Melrose last evening.” Lady Hampshire did not sit down but remained on her feet, a slight frown flickering across her forehead. “Though you seem to have done well with the Marquess of Kendall, it was clear that you had upset the Duke in some way. You refused to tell me what it was you said to him last evening and I must hope that now, you will choose to do so.”
Lydia hid her scowl as best she could. Her mother had spoken a little harshly to her the previous evening, demanding to know what it was she had said that had made the Duke of Melrose scowl at her but Lydia had refused to entertain an answer. Instead, she had simply shrugged lightly and said that the Duke had appeared to be in something of an irritable mood since the very moment she had been introduced. This had not satisfied her mother, though she had appeared to agree with Lydia’s assessment of the Duke’s state of mind.
“Lydia?”
Seeing that her silence would not be a satisfactory answer, Lydia looked down at her embroidery, feigning an interest in it. “As I have said, Mama, the Duke of Melrose did seem to be very unhappy with being present at the soiree. I think he might have been a little jealous at Lord Kendall’s connection to my brother.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lady Hampshire let out a laugh that was both cold and harsh. “You cannot expect me to believe that the Duke of Melrose was jealous of his friend’s conversation with you!”
Lydia looked back at her mother. “That was only a thought, Mama,” she answered, ignoring the small stab of pain that lanced her heart. “Lord Kendall was, as you saw for yourself, very eager indeed to be in conversation with me and has hopes to dance with me! Surely, if I had said something to upset the Duke of Melrose, Lord Kendall would have had the same expression as he! There would have been two upset gentlemen, rather than one.”
Lady Hampshire frowned heavily, clearly not fully assured by Lydia’s response. “If I find out that you said something about your desire to further your learning and understanding, then I will be greatly displeased, Lydia. I am sure that –”
A knock at the door had Lady Hampshire’s warnings fall silent and she quickly called for the servant to enter. A footman came in, handing Lady Hampshire a card, though she quickly looked towards Lydia.
“Are you expecting Lady Markham this afternoon?”
“Yes, I am!” Lydia set aside her embroidery immediately, making to rise to her feet only to recall the book she had underneath her. “Might she join us, Mama?”
Lady Hampshire sighed heavily. “Lydia, I am not quite finished with my conversation with you but… ” She sighed again. “On this occasion, I shall leave you and your friend to take tea.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
With a nod, Lady Hampshire made to leave the room, only to glance back at Lydia and frown. “Are you so improper that you will not rise to greet your friend in the correct way?”
“I shall, of course.” Lydia forced a smile, praying that her mother would not linger and wait to make certain that she did so, relieved when, with a click of her tongue to make clear her disapproval, Lady Hampshire walked out of the door.
Relieved, Lydia got to her feet, turning to pick up the book but managing, somehow, to tangle it up in her skirts all the same. Frustrated, she began to mutter to herself, only to hear a peal of laughter coming from the other side of the room.
“Whatever are you doing, Lydia?”
With a wry smile, Lydia turned to face her friend, only for the book to drop to the floor, the thump making Sophie’s eyebrows lift. “Good afternoon, Sophie,” Lydia began, turning around again in an attempt to find the book and, seeing it, bending to pluck it from the floor. “Aha! I have you now.”
“Were you reading?” Coming to sit down, Sophie gave Lydia a slightly confused look. “I do not understand why you were so tangled in your skirts!”
Lydia laughed and handed the book to her friend before going to ring the bell for a tea tray. “I was, yes. But when I heard my mother coming, I quickly sat on the book and it was only when she left that I was able to find it again.”
Sophie laughed again just as Lydia sat down, the rueful smile still on her face. “Goodness, that must have been a little difficult for you!”
“It was certainly uncomfortable.”
Her friend tipped her head just a little. “I am sorry that you cannot be encouraged in what you love.”
Lydia let out a slow breath, lifting her shoulders as she did so. “I cannot change it, I suppose. So there is nothing to be done aside from attempting to hide my love of it from my parents.” Her lips quirked. “Though I did not do so when it came to speaking with the Duke of Melrose and the Marquess of Kendall last evening. Goodness, is not the Duke of Melrose an arrogant gentleman?”
Her friend spread out her hands. “I could not say. I am not acquainted with him particularly well, though my husband knows him better than I. But is it not expected for a Duke to be arrogant? I would have thought that it would not be a surprise to learn of his condescension.”
“I suppose that is true. Though, as I have said, I did make it quite clear that my respect for his opinion was somewhat lacking.” Wincing as she recalled the heavy frown that had pulled at the Duke’s forehead, she shook her head. “I must hope that he does not say anything to either my mother or my father.”
Sophie looked back at her steadily. “What did you say?”
“Not too much,” Lydia answered, still having a vague sense of triumph lingering in her from the previous evening’s conversation. “He stated quite clearly that young ladies ought not to do various things, that it would be wrong or shameful for them to be learned and knowledgeable beyond that of what a governess teaches.”
“Ah.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I am sure you made your feelings on that subject more than clear.”
“I certainly did.”
“Then I think that very good,” her friend declared, determinedly. “And that is one of the reasons I am come to call on you today.”
Lydia’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”
“I have some connections to The London Chronicle,” Sophie continued, with a wave of her hand. “They are always looking for something new and interesting to place within it. I did wonder whether or not you might wish to approach them about writing a piece or two?”
The idea did quickly pique Lydia’s interest, though doubts instantly began to cloud her mind. “I do not know if I am much good at writing and, even if I were to be, whatever should I write about?”
“You are quite excellent at the written word,” came her friend’s reply, as the tea tray was brought in. “I have had some thoughts on what you could write within it. Though I know that you love all manner of learning and you know a good many things, not everything will be of interest to the ton and therefore, rejected by The London Chronicle.”
Lydia’s lips pulled to one side as she thought, the idea taking a greater hold of her mind.
“You might be able to suggest that you write a brief history of England?” Sophie continued, shrugging her shoulders. “Or different parts of England, mayhap?”
Getting to her feet to pour the tea, Lydia considered the idea. “Perhaps the traditions and customs of each place?”
“Precisely!”
“Though that might not capture the interest of many, only those who live in that particular area,” Lydia muttered, pouring the tea carefully. It was only when she set it down that she was hit with another thought, one that made her pause.
“What is it?” Evidently aware that Lydia had thought of something, Sophie leaned forward in her chair, her eyes rounded. “What are you thinking?”
“What if I wrote about the history of a place and connected it to a family here in London now?” Lydia’s heart quickened. “I would be able to study, to read, and to explore as much as I wished! Then I would be able to take what I have learned and present it in an article! Would that not get the attention of the ton ?”
Her friend began to nod slowly, a smile beginning to spread across her face. “Indeed, I think it would! It would mean that the family of whoever you chose to write about would be interested, but there would also be a curiosity from the ton about whatever history you choose to divulge. It could be something between learning and gossip!”
“Precisely!”
“Though,” Sophie added, holding up one hand, palm out towards Lydia, “you may have to use a different name.”
Lydia’s shoulders slumped, though she quickly understood what it was her friend meant. “You think that The London Chronicle would not accept articles from a lady.”
At this, Sophie shook her head. “No, it is not that. The London Chronicle already has many a lady’s name attached to it! I worry that your parents would be greatly displeased and prevent you from doing anything more than one article! And what would you do then?” She shrugged. “Besides which, what if the person or family you choose to write about is displeased by your attentions? You need to protect yourself.”
With her understanding clear now, Lydia nodded but smiled all the same. “I think that is quite a wonderful suggestion! I am delighted with your idea, Sophie. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“But of course.” Her friend reached to pick up her tea cup. “I know that you have struggled against your parents' disapproval for some time and that even now, it must be very difficult indeed.”
“It is made easier when I have your friendship and understanding,” Lydia answered, feeling herself happier than she had been in some time. “Thank you again, Sophie. This is quite wonderful!”
Taking a sip of her tea and then reaching for one of the small cakes that had been set out, Sophie shot Lydia a quick look. “I must ask, who will you write about first?”
Only one name came to mind and Lydia chuckled softly, sitting back in her chair and grinning at her friend. “Well, I must get the attention of the ton , must I not?”
“Yes, you must.”
“And I must write something to intrigue and delight, yes?”
Sophie nodded.
“Then I think I shall write about the Duke of Melrose,” Lydia said, with a chuckle as Sophie gasped. “And mayhap, if I am fortunate, it will bring down that arrogance just a little.” Her smile faded. “Though it also might do precisely the opposite also.”
Sophie tipped her head, her eyes going towards the window for a few moments as she thought. Then, with a small nod, she directed her gaze back towards Lydia. “I think that an excellent idea, however.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
Lydia took in a deep breath and then set her shoulders. “Then I shall do all I can to learn about the Duke of Melrose and write an article that will, I hope, do all that I want it do to. I can only hope that it will be accepted by The London Chronicle!”
“As do I,” came the reply. “But you write well and I am sure this will be an excellent thing for you.”
Lydia nodded and reached for her own tea, a sense of excitement building in her, something she had not felt in some time. Now, finally, she had a chance to pursue her love of learning but this time, with a purpose.
She could only pray others liked what she wrote, otherwise it would be only one article and nothing thereafter. And then what would there be in London for her?