Page 21

Lydia

The Jennings family butler stepped into the library where Lydia and her three children were having a rare quiet moment.

He cleared his throat. “His Lordship has returned.”

A split second of silence followed. And then it was shattered by thumps and squeals erupting throughout the library. Three Jennings children barreled to the library door in a flurry of energy—cheers and hoots and a pounding of feet that would rival a stampede in their wake.

Their cries echoed down the hall, then Freddy’s booming greeting drifted back to Lydia.

A grin split her face, and she hurried after her children.

Oh, how she was excited to have Freddy back.

To have her best friend to talk to about the whirlwind courtship that had come to be the past two weeks.

It had been eating her alive, not having anyone to talk to.

And a small part of her hoped—perhaps with Freddy home, she might be fortunate enough to spend an entire night with Malcolm.

She’d feel so much better with the children having their father home.

The hurried tap of her slippers echoed against the marble floor as she picked up her pace.

Freddy was twirling Felicity around in endless circles, their laughter ringing around the entry.

His gaze met hers just as he placed Felicity on the ground.

He cocked his head at the slightest angle, and she could see the question in his eyes.

She couldn’t stop herself. She ran up to him and launched herself straight into his arms. He caught her with an oomph and a laugh, giving her her own spin.

“Lydia, darling. What a greeting.”

She bit her lip, but it was a pitiful effort at stifling her smile, because her heart was beaming too brightly to be contained.

“I have missed you, Freddy. Much has come to pass this past fortnight.”

His right dimple popped, and she swore she saw the devil dancing in his whisky irises. “Oh, this I have to hear, love.” He turned to their brood. “Children, I must freshen up and get the stink of travel off my person. But as soon as I’m changed…who is up for a game of charades?”

Another chorus of whoops surrounded them, and Lydia winced, rubbing her ear. Her children were nothing if not exuberant.

“Come, Lyddie. You can fill me in on all the mischief these scamps have been up to while I’ve been away on business.”

And while she knew he wanted to know about those things as well, the glittering in his eyes gave away his curiosity. He wanted to know what the cause of her smile was.

The children, Mrs. Evans in their wake, were ushered back to the library, and Lydia made her way with Freddy to his chambers. Freddy stepped into his rooms, Giles, his valet, appearing as if out of nowhere, already assisting his master out of his coat.

“Out with it, Lyddie,” Freddy said around his valet.

Lydia curled up in an armchair by the blazing hearth, tucking her feet beneath her skirts. She glanced hesitantly at Giles, currently undoing Freddy’s cravat.

Freddy rolled his eyes. “Oh please, Lyddie. Giles comes with me to Hannah’s. He is well aware of our arrangement. He’d never say a word.”

“Say a word about what, my lord?” Giles caught Lyddie’s eye and winked.

Her smile broke free again, and some tension eased from her frame.

“Now, why are you glowing, Lyddie? Does that smile mean what I think it does?”

“Yes,” she said, heat slowly rising to her cheeks.

“You little minx! So, the man came to his senses then?”

She cocked her head and shot him a disbelieving look. “Please, Freddy. Like you didn’t approach him and tell him I was…was…amenable to his attentions!”

He shrugged in response to her and ducked out of his lawn shirt. “He’s a good man. Honorable. I was afraid he’d never take the chance if I didn’t give my…blessings of sorts.”

“I think you’re correct about that. He’s the best sort of man, Freddy.” Her voice had softened. And Freddy stilled, his attention completely on her.

“Lyddie…are you…?”

She nodded. “He’s it, Freddy. I think he has been all along.” Tears blurred her vision, and in the next moment, she was in her best friend’s arms, having the breath squeezed right from her. Her watery chuckle danced around them, and he beamed at her.

“Oh, I am so happy for you,. darling. You deserve this. More than anyone I know.” He stepped back, holding her hands and looking her over. “We did all right for ourselves, did we not? With this arrangement?”

“I’ll say,” she said, her smile filling her words.

Giles assisted Freddy into a fresh pair of trousers, shirt, and waistcoat, while Lyddie started pacing by the hearth.

A light tangle of anxiety twisted in her belly.

There was one more matter she needed to address with her husband.

She felt certain, deep in her heart, that he would understand—that he would not succumb to the prejudices that plagued society.

But what if she was wrong? The thought alone made her insides turn to ice.

It would gut her. And she would, in turn, gut him.

“Is there something else on your mind, Lyddie?” Freddy’s pinched expression greeted her.

She drew in a breath. “Giles, I will tie my husband’s cravat, if you please. You are dismissed.”

Freddy’s eyes stretched wide. Giles may be trusted with many secrets. But her son’s livelihood wasn’t one she’d ever risk. Giles politely bowed and left them alone.

She stepped up to Freddy and began tugging the fabric of his cravat into place.

“I had a discussion with Felix while you were gone.” She briskly weaved the fabric.

“And I need you to be prepared for him to come to you. To be frank, I don’t know if he will approach you.

” She glanced up at him as she pulled the length of fabric up and over.

“Hopefully, he will know that you are the kind of man he can trust with such a confidence.”

Freddy’s hand landed softly on hers, his furrow deep. “Lyddie, what on earth are you talking about?”

“I believe—and I am his mother, Freddy, so I am wont to know—that Felix may not grow to…prefer women.”

Her husband froze. And then he let out a low chuckle. “He’s eleven, Lyddie. How could you ever come to that conclusion?”

“Trust me, Freddy. He didn’t say it in so many words.

But he feels different. He’s not interested in girls like the boys he runs around with are.

And goodness, since he came to me? I’ve seen the way he looks at that Harrington boy.

I never would have thought twice of it before.

But he looks smitten at the boy. Besotted. ”

Freddy took an abrupt step backward, shaking his head.

“No, Lyddie. He is too young to know of such a thing. He is merely confusing friendship. It is common amongst boys. To develop a close friendship that they confuse. At that age, affection doesn’t matter by gender.

As he grows into manhood, it will clear itself up. I am sure of it.”

“That sounds very much like denial,” she said quietly. Sadness, as though fed by a slow steam, filled her.

“It’s not denial. I just—No father wants a son who…”

“Frederick,” she warned.

“God, Lydia. You are hurling quite a declaration at me!” He pulled at his wild amber curls. “Saying our son, my heir , prefers men? It’s unacceptable—”

“Unacceptable?” Anger turned her body to stone. “Unacceptable,” she bit out, planting her fists on her hips. Fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms. But she relished the bite.

“In our society, Lyddie,” Freddy hurried to add. “Come now, you cannot be so na?ve as to think that something like this will be accepted?”

“No, I know it won’t be. But I did expect you to.”

“Of course, I will accept it, if it must be. But it is criminal. Can you blame me for being disappointed—”

She slashed her hand through the air. “I am going to halt you right there.” She stepped up to her husband, nose inches from his.

And even though he towered over her, he shrank back.

Her finger dug into his chest. “You will never mention the word disappointed when you speak with Felix about this—whenever that day comes. And it will, Freddy. I know as only a mother can. And so help me God, Frederick Octavius Jennings, if you make that boy feel anything less than completely accepted and loved and secure in the knowledge that this family will stand behind him and protect him.” She shoved her finger deeper into his chest. “So help me God. I. Will. Dismember. You.”

He blinked, owl-eyed at her, his mouth slack.

“What a lioness you are, Lyddie,” he murmured. He drew in a shaky breath. “I had always thought Felicity got her fire from me. But I see now I had it completely wrong.”

She lifted her chin, setting her jaw. “The most foolish thing a man can ever do is underestimate a woman. And a mother at that.”

“I see that.” He studied her quietly for a beat. “I couldn’t have picked a better mother for my children. I know fate threw us into a less-than-ideal situation. But I believe fate knew exactly what it was doing.”

She lifted her brows expectantly, and a rumbling laugh escaped him.

“You have nothing to fear, Lyddie. I love Felix. Nothing will change that. Yes, this changes the…trajectory of things. But I am aligned with you. We will pave a path for him, one where he is protected. If what you believe does come to pass. It won’t be easy for him, and he will always have to hide this part of him outside these walls. But here, he will always be safe.”

She nodded succinctly. “Excellent. I expected nothing less.”

He chuckled, his lips twitching. “Lioness.” He clawed the air and winked at her. And she rolled her eyes, but finally, a smile broke free again.

She treaded to the armchair and sank into it, the tension from their argument and the sweet relief of resolution draining the strength from her limbs.

Freddy walked over to her and squeezed her shoulder. “My sincerest apologies, Lyddie. I am not proud of my reaction. But you cannot deny it was the most common one.”

“Just because it is common,” she replied softly, throwing his words from a few weeks ago back at him. “Doesn’t make it acceptable.”

“Indeed. Those are wise words. A wise man must have said them.” He waggled his brows, and she rolled her eyes.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” Freddy called out.

The Jennings butler stepped into the chamber. “An urgent missive has arrived for you, my lord.”

Freddy’s brows drew together, and he swiftly retrieved the missive, opening it and scanning the contents. His chin jerked in, forehead lining the further he read.

Lydia stood and padded over to Freddy. “What is it?” She tilted her head questioningly at him.

His gaze met hers. “This is from the Duke of Devonford. He says he has one of our servants. A groom. Unconscious.” He glanced down at the note again and then back at her. “He has his doctor tending to him for now. But thought we would want to know.”

The blood leeched from Lydia’s face, acid turning over in her stomach.

“Lyddie?”

“Malcolm,” she said faintly. “It has to be Malcolm.”

Freddy shook his head, his amber eyes clouding. “Why would Malcolm Campbell be at Devonford Castle?”

“There is something else I need to tell you, Freddy.”