Page 7 of The Truth about the Duke (Whispers of the Ton #5)

Chapter Six

I do not want to cry.

Despite her determination not to do so, Lydia felt the press of tears in her eyes as she walked away from the Duke of Melrose. Whether he realized it or not, his words had been harsh and injurious, though she had pretended that they meant nothing to her.

Stopping for a moment, Lydia looked down at the grass at her feet as though she found them peculiarly interesting, all the while taking in long, steadying breaths to calm herself. She had spoken much too freely and with too much of a blunt manner, she realized, and that in itself had been foolish. Though all the same, she did not deserve the Duke’s harshness, surely?

“Lydia?”

Lifting her head, Lydia almost melted with relief at the sight of Lady Melrose. “Sophie. Thank goodness you are here.” Reaching out one hand, she grasped her friend’s arm, a sense of weakness beginning to push through her frame. “I need a few moments to gather myself.”

“Why?” Alarm sounded in Sophie’s voice as she came closer to Lydia. “Whatever has happened?”

Lydia shook her head. “Nothing significant. It is only that I led the Duke to be introduced to Lady Ann – my mother and father’s urging meant I had no other choice – and as we went to find her, the Duke said something that was a little… harsh. Though I said more than I should have done.”

Her friend frowned, her eyes searching Lydia’s. “What did you do?”

A sad smile pulled at Lydia’s lips as she blinked back her tears. “I told him in no uncertain terms that I was not at all inclined to his company. That was spoken to him after he made it very clear indeed that he did not want to be in my company for any longer than was necessary. I spoke a little more bluntly than I ought, I will admit, but there was that arrogance that I found myself responding to.”

“Oh, my dear Lydia.” Sophie squeezed her hand. “I am sorry.”

Lydia shook her head. “He made it plain that he did not believe that I was disinclined towards walking with him, perhaps thinking that any young lady would be glad of the attention it brought her whether or not she was pleased with the company itself, and I made sure to make my thoughts very plain in that regard.”

Sophie winced but said nothing.

“Thereafter, he said that my parents ought to be ashamed of me.” She could not help the tears as they fell, dropping her head so that she might hide her face from as many as she could. “My manner was much too blunt, my expressions too forward for someone such as the Duke of Melrose.”

“That is an utterly dreadful thing for him to say!” Sophie looked all around, as though she wanted to say something to the Duke directly only for Lydia to squeeze her hand again and pull her attention back.

“It may have been but I did my best to show no pain,” she answered, managing to dry her tears. “Though I did tell him that I was a bluestocking and, therefore, my parents were already ashamed of me.”

Sophie closed her eyes, shaking her head as she did so. “You should not have had such a thing said to you, my dear friend. The Duke ought to be better mannered than that.”

Lydia took in a long breath and let herself settle inwardly, swallowing hard as the final few tears drained away. “I am quite myself again, I am sure.”

Her friend gazed back at her for some moments, perhaps ascertaining whether or not such a thing was true. “Will you say something to the Duke?”

Fervently, Lydia shook her head no. “All I shall do is stay away from him,” she answered, hating the wobble still in her voice. “And continue my research into his family so that I might complete my piece for The London Chronicle. Then, I shall forget all about him.” Part of her now regretted pursuing the Duke of Melrose as her first subject for The London Chronicle but her study had already begun and she would not start again. Earlier that very afternoon, she and Sophie had visited not one but two libraries, as well as a bookshop that was more akin to a library than anything else! Subsequently, she now had not only a good deal of information about the area of England in which the Duke and his estate resided, but she had some books by which she intended to take on further study. Then, the article could be written, it could be sent to The London Chronicle, and her mind free then to release the Duke of Melrose entirely.

“That sounds wise to me.” Sophie released her hand though she continued to look into Lydia’s face. “Are you sure you are quite all right?”

With a nod, Lydia gave a light toss of her head, her red curls catching the sunshine as they bounced. “I shall be, yes. Thank you, Sophie. You came just when I needed you.”

Pressing her lips tightly together, Lydia took the letter from the footman and tried to keep her gaze away from her mother’s sharp eyes. “I thank you.” The previous day, after the Duke’s hard words to her, Lydia had found herself filled with a new determination – a determination to complete her piece of work on the Duke of Melrose just as quickly as she could. Thus, she had feigned a headache and had remained at home rather than go to the ball she had been expected to attend. In the hours she had garnered of solitude and silence – for both of her parents had gone to the ball after her promises that she would be quite all right – Lydia had read and read and read. She had found one or two rather interesting things, including a story that had made her eyebrows lift high in surprise. It had all been included in her article which, in the early hours of the morning, she had sent to The London Chronicle.

This, mayhap, was their reply.

“Is it a letter from a gentleman?” Lady Hampshire arched one eyebrow. “Lord Kendall, mayhap?”

Lydia shook her head. “I think it is from Sophie, Mama.”

“Lord Kendall was present at the ball last evening.” Much to Lydia’s relief, her mother rose from her chair and made her way to the door. “Had you been present, then you would have been able to dance with him.”

“I am sure another opportunity will soon become available,” Lydia murmured, seeing her mother shake her head in evident desperation at Lydia’s lack of interest in the gentleman before quitting the room entirely.

Relieved, Lydia broke the seal and unfolded the letter, tension grasping at her as she read the few short lines.

‘ Thank you for your article. We find it an excellent piece and would be glad to publish it in tomorrow’s edition. As requested, we shall publish it under a gentleman’s name rather than your own. Might we request another piece just as soon as you have one available?’

Her heart leaped, joy spread like fire across her chest and sent her smile wide. Jumping around the room, Lydia clasped the letter to her chest, twirling and spinning as though she were dancing with an invisible partner. The world opened up to her again, no longer closed, holding her only to propriety, to dancing, and to dull conversations with gentlemen where she pretended she was not what she truly was.

She could read! She could learn! She could write! And best of all, her work was valued and appreciated by others.

Lydia could think of nothing better.

I do wonder if he has anything on the history of St Albans. Lydia traced her fingers along the row of books, tilting her head this way and that as she kept one ear open for any of the other guests who might step into the room. She was attending Lord Montrose’s soiree and though her friend, Lady Markham, was in attendance as well as other acquaintances, she had no interest in conversation and remarks about the weather. Her mind was racing, full of thoughts about the Duke and his family and just how well the article would be received by the ton . She knew that The London Chronicle had been published this afternoon. It would, by now, be in the hands of the beau monde but as yet, she did not know as to what society thought of it. Would it go unnoticed? Would there be only a few remarks made about it? Or was there any possibility that it would capture the attention of a good many of the gentlemen and ladies, making them eager for more?

Lydia tried to calm herself a little, pushing her thoughts to what area – and what family – she might write about next. The Duke of Melrose had been an interesting subject, for she had certainly discovered one or two things that had pricked her curiosity but whether or not she would find the same about another gentleman or lady, Lydia could not say. St Albans was an area known to her, and there were certainly many distinguished families from that area, but as yet, Lydia had not settled on anyone.

I wonder if –

Her heart slammed hard into her chest as the door to the library was pushed back, hard. She turned quickly, pushing her back against the shelves of books, pressing into the shadows for fear that she was about to witness something quite improper, or be set upon by a rogue, come in search of a lady alone.

Her fears faded as a gentleman staggered in, though Lydia recognized him at once. It was none other than the Duke of Melrose! He had one hand pressed against his forehead and was muttering under his breath, his shoulders a little hunched. With seeming irritation, he made to push the door shut but Lydia moved quickly, not wanting to be seen alone with him.

“Your Grace. If you would excuse me before you shut the door, then I would be grateful.”

He started violently, his hand dropping to his side, peering at her. “Lady… Lady Lydia?”

“Melrose, are you quite all right?”

Before Lydia could answer, Lord Kendall stepped into the library, only to stop short at the sight of Lydia and the Duke together. His eyes widened but Lydia smiled quickly, gesturing to the door.

“Forgive me, Lord Kendall, I was just about to take my leave. The Duke stepped into the library without being aware of my presence.”

Lord Kendall smiled quickly. “You sought some solitude in here, mayhap?”

She nodded, returned his smile, and made to leave, only for the Duke of Melrose to reach out and catch her hand.

“Wait.”

A streak of fire tore up her arm and sent panic into her heart as she pulled her fingers out of his. Swallowing, she glanced at Lord Kendall but he was frowning hard, seemingly as confused as she was.

“I – I need to apologize.” The Duke closed his eyes, his breathing ragged. “I spoke harshly to you and I must now apologize for it.”

Lydia blinked in surprise. “Your Grace?”

“In the park, at the fashionable hour. I spoke sharply and without consideration and I can see that it must have been hurtful, despite your seeming lack of regard for my words.” He held her gaze steadily as he drew himself up to standing tall again, his breathing seeming to slow and settle. “I sincerely apologize, Lady Lydia. I ought not to have said anything of the sort to you.”

This was so utterly unexpected that for a long time, Lydia did not know what to say. She simply gazed back at the Duke, wondering if he was intending to laugh at her when she accepted his apology, wondering if he meant to throw those words back in her face. But when he shook his head and looked away, rubbing one hand over his chin, slowly, she began to believe him.

“I am grateful to you for your acknowledgment of that,” she said, her voice soft from surprise. “I will not pretend that I was not affected by what you said, Your Grace.”

He looked back at her. “It will not happen again.”

Lydia blinked, nodded, and then made to step away, only for something to tug at her heart. She looked back at the Duke, seeing how troubled he appeared and how his friend continued to frown in what, to her, looked like confusion and concern over the Duke’s manner.

“Might I be so bold as to ask whether you are quite well, Your Grace?”

The Duke let out a quiet snort, his fingers pushing through his hair now. “No, I am not, Lady Lydia, but that is not your concern.”

She frowned. “I am well aware of that, but I am only expressing concern for you.”

“There is nothing you can do,” he answered, looking to Lord Kendall now. “Nothing any of you can do. It is only I who can discover if what has been written is true.”

A sudden fear clasped at Lydia’s heart. “What has been written?”

He waved one hand at her, beginning to pace up and down the library. “You know of what I speak, I am sure. For everyone in the ton appears to have read The London Chronicle today.”