Page 13

Lydia

Lydia sat on a pile of blankets on the floor of Malcolm’s room, unpacking the basket of provisions—fruits, cheeses, cold meats, and bread—she’d brought for them, while he poured them each a glass of wine from the bottle she’d already set out.

The children were asleep, the nursemaid plenty capable of handling them if they awoke. She hoped.

An anxious band weaved through her chest. She didn’t like not being there if they called for her.

She tried to remind herself that she was more than a mother, that carving out space for her own happiness didn’t make her selfish.

You’re not a bad mother , she repeated in her mind.

Yet the guilt was an ever-present stubborn companion.

The woes of being a mother. And because of that, she needed to take advantage of every moment with this man.

“Will you tell me a little bit about yourself?” she rushed out. “I know we know quite a bit already, having known each other a decade. But why’d you come to England from Scotland? Do you have any siblings? Family close by? Back in Scotland? What do you do in your spare time?”

Malcolm chuckled. “Easy, lass, one question at a time.”

She smiled, sufficiently chagrined. “Apologies. I can’t help but want to know everything about you.”

His blue eyes softened to a warm slate. “I like the interest. And I’m curious just the same about you.” His chest lifted with a heavy breath. “‘Tis not the nicest of stories, just to warn you.”

She gave him an encouraging nod to keep going.

“When I was a lad of sixteen, my parents went out to the market, and a thief marked them as a target. My da fought back, and the thief ended up killing them both.”

Lydia’s hand flew to her mouth, her gasp slicing through the small room.

A sad smile twisted Malcolm’s lips, and his eyes grew liquid, melted steel.

“Aye,” he said roughly. “My da was a trainer at a laird’s estate.

The laird offered me a position in the stables, knowing I’d learned much from my da about working with horses.

But I couldnae stay. To be reminded every day of what I’d lost…

I couldnae even bear hearing other people speak.

Certain phrases would remind me of Mam—”

He blew out a breath and closed his eyes for a few beats. When he opened them, they were the lightest blue-grey Lydia had ever seen, as though the sadness had washed away the color.

“I packed up and left for England. With the hope I could secure a position working with horses.”

“And is that how you ended up here?”

“Not quite. I found myself a stable boy position at a baron’s estate. He was a kind elderly gentleman. Think he took pity on me. Which was fortunate for me. No’ an easy journey, nor the safest, for a lad as young as I was. But I had my height in my favor, though I was lanky as a beanpole.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Even the first time I saw you—you must have been early twenties? You were quite lean.”

He grinned at her, a tiny bit of color bleeding back into those piercing eyes. “It gives me much satisfaction to know ye were keekin’ at me.”

“Keeking?”

He bounced his eyebrows. “Peepin’. Spying.”

She gently slapped the back of her hand across his shoulder. “It was by accident! Though I’ll admit, once I saw you, I couldn’t stop looking. I should have left, but—well, you were captivating.”

A light pink dusted his high cheekbones.

“More so now,” she murmured. “All big and… braw .” She bit back her smile and rolled her lips in.

His gaze dipped to her mouth. “You like my size, Lydia? I’m no dainty soft-handed Englishman. These hands?” He held them up, ungloved, rough. “They’re calloused. A working man’s hands. And about the size o’ a dinner plate.”

A soft snort escaped her, and she pressed her lips tight against her mirth.

“Honestly, Malcolm? Whatever you were, short, tall, broad, or slim. Dinner plate or tea-saucer plate hands. It’s what I would want.

I was drawn to the way you looked when I first came here, but as we’ve grown to know each other over the years? ”

She tilted her head, studying him. “I have developed an attachment for you,” she said softly. “You the man, who you are at your core. The handsome exterior is just a boon on top of the amazing man you are beneath.”

He ducked a bashful smile behind a dinner plate- sized hand, his blush deepening to a charming crimson.

She put the poor, adorable man out of his misery. “So, you then ended up here? Sometime after the position at the baron’s estate?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “The baron recognized my talent. Thought I had potential. When he heard of an opening for a groom position here, he pulled a favor for me. Said he thought there was an opportunity here for me to achieve the stable master position one day. And that’s no’ something of light at an estate such as this one. ”

“And you’ll be stable master soon. Once Mr. Porter retires.”

Malcolm’s smile turned fond, curving up higher on one side. “Yes, I’ll take over for Port. He’s been an exceptional mentor. In more than just working the stables.”

“I’m glad you had him as a friend to rely on here.”

“Me too, lass. Now tell me a bit about yourself.” He lifted his dark brows. “How’d ye find yourself in this… arrangement .”

She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Marriages of the ton are often some sort of arrangement or another. Whether it is the trading of wealth, title, lands, a womb…”

“But I dinnae imagine it’s common for a husband to willingly look the other way while his wife takes a lover? Or maybe ‘tis. I’m not familiar with your lot, I’ll admit. But I am familiar with men. And they tend to be possessive over what they believe is theirs.”

She swirled the wine in her glass, stretching her neck from side to side, contemplating her answer.

“I suppose that part isn’t common. Freddy is…not common. He’s genuine and kind and deeply in love with his mistress. A truer love I’ve never witnessed. But he’s also honorable and beholden to duty.” She glanced down and whispered, “He saved me from a very unfortunate fate.”

Malcolm leaned forward, his forehead lining. She glanced at where his fists had just tightened. Like he was ready to fight for her.

“What do ye mean, lass?”

“Before Freddy offered for me,” she started slowly, her gaze turning unseeing.

“I was in the Duke of Ironcrest’s sights.

” Malcolm’s harsh intake of breath snapped her gaze back up to his.

“I see you’ve heard of his reputation.” A reputation that spoke to him being just as cruel as his father before him.

Lydia had heard horror stories of what the dowager Duchess of Ironcrest had experienced.

Malcolm’s eyes were wide, and he jerked his chin in a stiff nod. “Aye,” he bit out. “Servants talk, my lady. Cruelty such as his does not go unheard.”

She nodded sadly. “And now some other poor woman is subjected to his cruelty.” Her throat tightened. “And I’ve heard his son isn’t safe from it either,” she added quietly. “Sometimes I feel guilty…that I put someone else—”

“Nae,” Malcolm interrupted, firm, steady.

“Absolutely not, Lydia. Ye cannae shoulder the blame for that man’s evil.

His sins are his to bear, no’ yers.” His voice deepened, his brogue thickening.

“They would exist nae matter what. From whispers, it is no’ just his wife and son who suffer his wrath.

Ye were fortunate to escape, aye, but that doesnae make ye responsible for those who didnae.

Their suffering is on his head, no’ yers.

” His tone softened. “Ye have a big heart, lass.

‘Tis why ye feel so deeply for the welfare of others.”

She swallowed thickly and wrinkled her nose against the subtle sting building there. She tried to say thank you, but nothing came out, her throat still too tight.

“Och, dinnae let your heart be heavy, lass. Will ye tell me more about how ye and the Earl came to be?”

She gave a small bob of her head and cleared her throat.

“Freddy had just made it known he was looking for a wife. I honestly don’t think he had any idea who to choose.

He didn’t want to choose anyone. But he saw me at a ball, cornered by the Duke.

He’s always had a protective streak. Always taking care of others. ”

She stared down into her wineglass absently. “The next day he called on me. Explained the situation. What would be required of me. And asked if I would be receptive to such an offer.”

“Did you no’ want love? Even if it isn’t common amongst your class?”

Her lips curved. “At the time, yes. But I was terrified. If I didn’t receive another offer… What Freddy was offering me was safe. I chose that over the unknown. And most definitely over the possibility of the Duke.

“But I can honestly say, after being married to Freddy all these years? I know I made the right decision. Love would have been a dream. But I ended up with a best friend instead. And three precious children.” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes.

“And it is not as though I don’t still have a chance at love. Some day.”

“I’ll be forever grateful to the Earl for saving ye. And for allowing me this.” He gestured between the two of them.

“Speaking of this…” Lydia worried her lip. “It is important I do not get with child.”

He dipped his chin slowly in understanding. “There are precautions we can take. I have sheaths. Sitting unopened and probably collecting dust,” he added hesitantly. “‘Tis been a while…”

“Since you’ve been with a woman,” she murmured, not a question, and studied him.

“Aye. I’ve been a wee bit stuck on one bonnie lass in particular. One I thought I had nae chance with.”

“I shouldn’t like that as much as I do,” she said, shooting him an apologetic smile. And the grin he flashed her in return started up a fluttering in her belly. “Urm.” She paused, wringing her hands. “Is that something you’d have ready for…? If things were to…?”

Malcolm stood, his blue eyes dancing. “Aye, my eager lass,” he teased as he made his way over to his desk.

She patted her blessedly cool hands over her cheeks. She feared she was destined to be permanently red-faced around this man.

“There are other precautions we can take as well. There are certain times I am more or less likely to become with child.” She paused.

“I’m actually much more familiar with practices trying to encourage pregnancy,” she said ruefully.

“Freddy wanted to limit our intimate moments as much as possible. We brought in many midwives to educate us on various methods.”

Malcolm paused in his rifling through drawers and peered at her over his shoulder. “Boggles my mind that a man would want to limit bedding ye, lass.”

He turned back to his desk. He was doing something on the surface of his desk that she couldn’t see, then he strode back over to her and settled back next to her. She glanced at the desk and opened her mouth, but he must have seen the question on her face.

“A sheath. Best to soak it in oil before use.” His voice roughened. “Will ensure it willane take away from ye’re pleasure.”

Oh. Goodness, she was woefully uneducated. And slightly overwhelmed. “There’s also a t-tea I can drink,” she stuttered, flailing. “I’m not overly familiar with—”

“Nae,” he said, lifting a hand. “I dinnae like the idea of you putting yourself at risk. With these mystical teas and herbs. Yer safety, well-being, is much too important to me.”

Everything in her, from her heart to her bones, softened. What a man he was. Tender, thoughtful, trustworthy.

“There’s one last thing, Malcolm.” She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Time to admit how truly uneducated she was in all of this. She knew the kind of man Malcolm was. Knew he wouldn’t care. But for some reason, it still got stuck in her throat.

His brow wrinkled. “Aye, lass?”

“I mentioned how devoted Freddy is to his mistress.” She drew in a deep breath. “Bedding me was not…easy for him. It happened infrequently and was…perfunctory, procedural, a necessary obligation.”

“I see…” Though his tone gave away, he most definitely did not.

“What I am trying to say is…” She wrinkled her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. “It is probably best you treat me as though I’m a maiden.”

She popped one eye open to see his blue eyes scanning her face.

“Ye’re saying ye’re inexperienced, lass?”

She licked over her lips. His gaze tracked the movement. “I’m two-and-thirty, Malcolm.”

“Aye,” he said, his tone lilting up in a question.

“I’ve never even been kissed,” she whispered.

And even though his intake of breath was soft, it sliced through the quiet room.

“Would you…perhaps…remedy that? For me?”

His large hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “It would be my pleasure, love.”