Chapter 20 #2
Although Alexander stood beside her, he had a faraway expression and a tension in his brow that spoke of pain. Lydia didn’t attempt to explain the situation to him; he might have understood her predicament, but she had no faith in him to handle the situation with delicacy.
“I have not seen you much, Mr. Umbridge,” one of the older ladies of the party said, giving him a chance to look wounded.
“No indeed, and I wish I could say for certain the reason. I must have done something to offend our most illustrious guest, although on that matter, I should button my lips lest I once again cause offense.”
Lydia set her jaw. Mr. Godwin and Eliza were talking quietly in a corner, her hand in his, and Marie was smiling at her husband from opposite ends of the sofa.
Neither of her friends would be much help here.
Having grown up in the area, they knew Mr. Umbridge well, and knew his tendency to indulge in all forms of drama, toeing the line of acceptable the entire time.
Her ignoring him had been the biggest blow to his ego she could have conceived, and of course, he hadn’t forgiven her for it.
She expected there was very little more she could have done to offend him than pretending he didn’t exist. At least if she had publicly snubbed him or spread rumors about him in some fashion, he could have had the satisfaction of knowing he had made an enemy of her.
The fact that she seemed to give his existence no consideration in the slightest irked, she could tell.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Umbridge crowed to Alexander, stirring him out of whatever contemplation he had given way to.
“You have been absent from this part of the country for quite some time. It is a relief to have you back.” He smiled, evidently expecting Alexander to say something favorable to this ingratiating behavior.
Alexander merely looked him up and down. “I was not aware my absence had been so keenly missed,” he said with barely concealed impatience in his voice.
“Oh yes! There are those of us who remember you from boyhood, Your Grace.”
Alexander stiffened so abruptly, Lydia glanced at him. But his face was like stone.
“A long time ago now,” was all he mumbled, but Lydia had the impression he was holding back in some way. Perhaps he had taken as much of a dislike to Mr. Umbridge as she had.
More interestingly, she wondered how much Mr. Umbridge remembered from back then.
She had been too young to be out in society much, but no doubt the community at large knew of her existence.
And, granted, Alexander had been older than her and remained in the community longer, but was it possible that Mr. Umbridge had known her father? Her mother?
Suddenly, she ached for this information, as though it were a part of her history she could reclaim. A part of her parents left unmined. In returning to the area, she had not sought out any aspect of her old life save for her friends, and now she wished she had.
“Your mother, you know, often invited me for dinners at the manor,” Mr. Umbridge continued, still to Alexander. “Yet since your marriage, I have not been there once.”
Alexander’s jaw was still clenched. “Is that so?” he muttered as though through gritted teeth.
“I have heard of the duchess’s generosity, indeed, but I have yet to see it.” He grinned at Lydia, but she could see the falseness of it and the coldness of his eyes. Across the room, Eliza had caught sight of them, and by the look on her face, she knew that the scene must be unpleasant.
Perhaps Mr. Godwin would throw him out.
Unlikely, but she could dream.
“I have kept my parties thus far small,” Lydia replied with the veil of a smile.
It was almost the truth—she had not invited everyone.
As a duchess, after all, she felt it was perfectly within her rights to restrict the guest list to those she felt most comfortable with, or whom she felt it was her responsibility to look after.
Others, such as Mr. Umbridge, she did not feel like welcoming.
Mr. Umdbridge’s smile hardened. There were titters around, but Lydia couldn’t look away from the maliciousness in his gaze.
“I recall how surprising it was when the duke brought home his new wife,” he began.
“There was a time—oh, many years ago now—when we had all expected there to be another duchess on the duke’s arm.
” He lowered his voice. “But that was such a tragedy. Some of us believed he would never marry. But here you are, of course. And we must accept you as you are.”
Lydia had never gone from dislike to detestation so quickly. But it was Alexander who stepped forward, towering over the smaller man.
“I recall you from my childhood, too,” he started, his voice low and dangerous.
“I recall how you went out of your way to make others feel small so you could have a chance to look big. A decade has passed, and yet nothing has changed. You are still the same, small man you have ever been, and you will never have a chance to grow beyond it.” He glanced at Mr. Godwin as the other man approached.
“I find your choice of guests troublesome, Samuel. Please excuse me.” He inclined his head in a bow to Mr. Godwin, ignoring Mr. Umbridge entirely, and strode away.
Lydia watched him go, her heart beating altogether too fast in her chest. But his hands were clenched by his sides, and she could tell by his posture that this was not mere irritation—which would have been understandable given the provocation.
He was vastly upset.
Eliza appeared by her side and nudged her. “Go after him,” she whispered, as Mr. Godwin addressed Mr. Umbridge in loud, strident tones, condemning his decision to needle Alexander and Lydia in his home.
At least Mr. Godwin was a good friend, if a little indiscriminate in his guest list.
Lydia glanced after Alexander’s retreating back. She knew she ought to go after him, but what was there to say? Especially when it dawned on her that Mr. Umbridge’s attack had quite possibly been about the girl, Helena, who had found her in the lake.
What had happened between them? And why had such a memory made Alexander so stiff with anger and grief?
There was a pit in the base of her stomach. Even after all this time, she was still competing with this other lady, and she suspected she would always lose.
“You are his wife,” Eliza said in hushed tones, giving her a little push between the shoulders. “Go, now, before it’s too late. Besides, if you don’t, people will talk.”
Already, Lydia could see, there were whispers directed at them both. People were staring, some in open condemnation. Of Alexander or Mr. Umbridge, Lydia could not be sure, but it didn’t matter.
This would have been her moment to ask after memories of her family, but if she did so, it would be at the expense of Alexander, the only family she had left, for better or worse.
It wasn’t the time. And it couldn’t be her priority.
Without a glance back, she hurried after her husband, leaving the room and finding him almost by the front door. He was speaking to the butler, calling for his carriage.
“Wait for me,” she said, picking up her skirts as she reached his side.
He looked down at her, face tight and angry. “Go back to the party. You don’t need to leave with me now.”
“Of course I do.” She slipped her hand through his arm. “He didn’t merely offend you, you know. I’m more than ready to leave.”
He gave a stiff nod and looked straight forward.
A handful of silent minutes later, the carriage arrived, and he handed her in, still with those jerkily angry movements.
Lydia sat in quiet, remembering the conversation they’d had on the way in, and how different things felt now, even if their relationship was still tempestuous.
As soon as they reached the manor, he handed her out and dropped her like she had burned him. “Go inside,” he said shortly. “Retire for the night.”
“What are you going to do?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“After everything, you are still going to shut me out?”
“I’m sorry.” Shaking his head, he strode away, and Lydia followed, her own temper boiling over now.
“Don’t you walk away from me! You said we would try, Alexander.”
“I lied,” he roared, ripping his arm from her grasp. “I told you what you wanted to hear because it was an appealing daydream, but that is all it could ever be. A delusion. We can never be the happy pair you believe we can be.”
He loosed a frustrated breath. “This is not a marriage that could ever work, Lydia, and you are a fool if you think it can. I abandoned you for a year, if you recall? I only married you because your father—” At that, his voice cut off, and she saw what looked like agony cross his face from the distant lit windows of the house.
“I won’t send you away,” he said, quieter now.
“But that’s all I have to offer. It’s easier—everything would be easier if you hated me. ”
She caught her breath, taking a step back.
Hated him? He had not behaved as though he wanted her to hate him when he had kissed her.
Or when he had welcomed her body over his in the bathtub.
There were so many incidents where she felt as though he would rather she liked him.
She had seen through his prickly exterior and found a man who wanted nothing more than to be loved.
Or so she had thought.
Had she been wrong? Had she only ever seen what she wanted to, born of her early infatuation with him?
“Go inside,” he said finally, as remote as he had been on the day her father died. “Go to bed. And stop dreaming of a life that can never be.”
She curled her fingers into a fist. “If hate is what you wanted from me, all you had to do is never return. You could have left me here to hate you in peace!”
He huffed a bitter laugh, already turning away. “It would have been better for the both of us if I had,” she thought she heard him say.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she turned blindly, seeking the familiar refuge of her bedchamber and not the unfamiliar coldness of a husband she had come to want.
Everything would be easier if you hated me.
Perhaps she ought to give in to that desire—it would certainly be easy for her to hate him for the things he had said tonight. And yet, even though he had spoken in rage, with a clear desire to hurt her, all he had done was reveal his own pain.
That didn’t mean she forgave him for this. Not even close. But she would not close the door on him entirely. One final chance to show her what was wrong so she could help him.
And then, if he failed her again, she would close her heart and life to him once and for all.