Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was only by pretending she was ill for the remainder of the days until the ball that Lydia was able to keep even a fraction of her equilibrium. By complaining of megrims, stomach upsets, and other ailments, she both endeavored to keep to her room and distract his attention from her mood.
Because she spent the next few days in a sour mood.
Perhaps his lack of being forthcoming was in part her fault, for pretending that she was ill and thus robbing him of the opportunity to broach the subject at a time when he felt he would be well received.
But as far as Lydia was concerned, he’d already had plenty of opportunities.
All she wished to do now was brave the inevitable parting with as much dignity as she possessed.
That dignity she found especially thin on the ground as Alexander handed her into the carriage to Lady Harrogate’s ball.
“I know it must be difficult for you, visiting that house,” he said, in such a warm tone that she suspected he thought he had discovered the reason behind her reticence. “I don’t blame you for dreading it.”
“I am happy for Lord and Lady Harrogate that they have found happiness there,” she replied woodenly.
“You can be both—happy for them, and sad that you must endure your childhood home lived in by another.”
Lydia drew in a long breath as she considered the matter. When she’d first returned to the area and learned where Marie now lived, it had come as a shock, but upon reflection, it had been a welcome one.
“I was happy there with my father and mother,” she began.
“I have a lot of happy memories in that house—and a lot of sad ones, too. After I moved to London, I thought I would never see it again, but to know that one of my dearest friends is enjoying her own happiness there brings me joy, too. I would much rather the house be lived in by someone I love than it be ripped apart by a stranger who cares nothing for it.”
“Has it changed a great deal since you lived there?”
She shrugged, feeling the familiar sting of tears clog her throat, but they were not due to the prospect of visiting that old home.
Time and time again, she lost the things that were precious to her—and in the case of her old home, she felt as though it was for the best. Better Marie lived and loved there; better she see how well that old house was loved.
But what of the other things she had lost?
“Lydia…” Alexander tried, his voice gentle. “Confide in me. Where have you gone these past few days?”
She couldn’t tell him, so she just shook her head. “Can you—can you hold me?”
In answer, he came to her side of the bench, moving carefully so the carriage wouldn’t sway too drastically. Just as the day he had chased after her and found her by the lake, the heavens had opened, rain slanting down. She trembled as he drew her to him, pulling her onto his lap.
“What is the matter? I thought it must be the house, but if it is not, then—”
She brought her mouth to his in a searing kiss.
Lips, tongues, teeth. His hands tightened on her arms, sliding to her waist as he held her to him, and she lost herself in his mouth.
They were a perfect storm, one that matched the torrent raging outside, and she did her best to banish every other thought.
They crept in anyway. This was probably the last time they would come together like this. The last time they would kiss...
If he was leaving, she doubted he would come back for this.
No doubt he could find it elsewhere in London.
Or he would remain chaste for the rest of his life, pining after a lady who had long since died, and abandoning the very real, very alive woman in his arms who just so desperately wished to be loved by him.
“Don’t say anything,” she breathed when he broke away and attempted to speak. “I know you want to, but just… Let this be.”
“What is this?”
A goodbye.
“I have missed you,” she whispered, which wasn’t a lie, and the truth of it burned her throat.
“I have missed you, too.” He slid his hand around the nape of her neck, kissing her again, and even though they were in a moving carriage with rain pelting the windows and the pain of heartbreak in her chest, she felt that thing he always managed to inspire in her—that desperate, aching, wonderful hunger.
If this was the last time she would ever be with him, she would make it count. As she shifted against him, she felt the press of his arousal, and he groaned low in his throat.
“Lydia, what are you doing? Do you want to drive me mad before we even arrive?”
I want you to regret leaving me behind.
I want to live in this moment forever with you.
I want to ensure you never forget me.
“Would that be so bad?” she asked, biting his bottom lip and tugging it gently.
“It sounds infuriating,” he groaned deeply, but he slid his hands around to her derrière and pulled her flush against him. “Awful. Terrible.”
“Brilliant.”
“Dreadful.” His voice lowered to a murmur, and he kissed her this time. She drew up her skirts, and to her relief, he brought his hand between them so he could stroke her exactly where she needed him.
Yes, this one last time of coming together. Pleasure and heartbreak combined.
She shuddered as he brought his fingers through her folds. “You’re fortunate you don’t make a mess the same way I would,” he murmured. “So I will have to wait for later, and you can indulge now.”
The way he spoke made her think he expected a later.
But of course, she reminded herself, he would not leave until the next morning. No doubt he expected to spend the night with her for one final tumble in the sheets before taking his leave.
As he slid a finger inside her, she tightened helplessly around him, wanting so much more than he had to give. She always wanted more. That was her curse, and he had fed it by being everything she had ever hoped he would be.
He buried his head in her neck as he worked her into a frenzy, reading her body as he had learned how to do, and when she crested and broke, her climax rushing over her with the force of an oncoming wave, all she could do was sit back and let it take her where it would.
All the while, Alexander held her through it, and she wished—she wished very much—that she could hate him.
When finally the last vestiges of pleasure slipped from her like water, she slumped against him, her forehead against his shoulder, her breaths too loud in her ears.
“I’m glad you are feeling better,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “I was beginning to worry that something was seriously wrong.”
She slid away from him, steadying herself on the carriage walls as she regained her seat on the other side of the carriage, pressing the back of one gloved hand to her flushed cheeks. “Everything is fine,” she lied. “I’m afraid I may have rumpled your cravat somewhat.”
He did his best to fix it in the dim light.
“My valet will be annoyed, but I don’t mind in the slightest.” With one hand, he smoothed down his shirt and coat.
Even in the shadows, she could make out the bulge that remained in his breeches.
Some part of her thought she ought to feel guilty that he had not found his satisfaction.
The other part of her triumphed in her revenge.
All that remained now was to keep out of his way until he left.
She most certainly would not lie with him and give him everything he wanted just before he deprived her of everything she wanted.
With a deep breath, she forced away the temptation to cry and looked out of the window. “We are nearly there.”
“Will you dance the first two with me?”
Lydia couldn’t quite bring herself to smile. “Not tonight. I don’t feel like dancing.”
There was a long beat of silence. Lanterns ghosted through the rain, and finally, her family home.
A pang she hadn’t been expecting ran through her.
Once, her mother would have organized balls just like this one, and she would have delighted at hosting.
Seeing those lights took her back to the time when she lived there.
An easier time.
Alexander took her hand. “Truly, are you all right?”
“I will be,” she nodded, and squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Alexander tucked Lydia’s hand in his arm as he ascended the steps to her old family home. Hers no longer, but he still felt as though he was intruding on her past, as though he might look down at her and find not the woman he had married, but the girl he had first met.
How had he not thought that attending a ball here might be painful? Even though she had assured him it wasn’t, she still looked around with eyes that were hazy with memories.
“Your Grace.” Lord Harrogate smiled and bowed.
“Lydia!” Lady Harrogate chimed to his wife. “I am so glad you could attend!”
“Of course,” Lydia replied. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” She smiled, but the motion seemed hollow. Lady Harrogate noticed too, or so he assumed, because she tucked Lydia’s other arm in hers.
“Come and see Eliza, dearest. I believe she has some news.”
Lydia glanced up at Alexander. “Goodbye,” she murmured, sliding her hand from his arm and slipping through the crowd. Odd phrasing, considering he was certain he would see her soon—and if she was feeling up to it, dance with her—but he let the moment pass as he searched the crowd for Godwin.
Finally, he found his friend in a circle of men. As soon as he saw Alexander, however, he broke away and beckoned to him.
“I have something to tell you.”
Perplexed, Alexander followed him to a small corner of the large ballroom, beside a collection of hothouse roses that could not have been grown naturally in this weather. “What is it?”
“You recall Miss Parsons and me announced our engagement a few weeks prior?”
“You have finally decided to go ahead with the match?”
Godwin’s brows drew down over his eyes. “How did you know?”
“With respect, I have been waiting for this ever since you first told me the news.”
Godwin frowned, glancing over to where Miss Parsons stood with Lady Harrogate and Lydia, no doubt giving them the same information. As he looked, Miss Parsons glanced over with a surprisingly soft smile on her sharp face.
Alexander had always seen her as somewhat of a cutting character, more than capable of slashing through egos and putting men down with a mere word or two, but there was something new in her face as she looked at Godwin now.
Adoration.
Lydia glanced up, finding Alexander watching her little group, and her brows pulled down over her face. In contrast to Miss Parsons’s look, her expression seemed cold to the point of remoteness.
Being in this house must be harder for her than he’d thought.
“So the wedding will go ahead as planned?” he asked Godwin as a distraction.
“It will,” Godwin confirmed. “And I was hoping you would be there.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Just give me the time and place.”
Godwin clapped him on the back. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. So, how are things with the lovely duchess? Are you ready to tell her the truth?”
“Tonight,” Alexander replied, trying to quiet the ball of nerves at the base of his stomach.
He’d never made himself quite so vulnerable before anyone until now, but if anyone deserved to have everything, it was Lydia.
He just still couldn’t predict how she would take it, especially after her recent behavior.
“At least, so I’d planned. But she has been… off lately.”
“Could it be this place?”
“That’s what I thought. So maybe tonight isn’t the best plan.” He scrubbed at his hair, trying to sort through what might be going on inside Lydia’s mind. “I don’t want to broach the subject when she is already not feeling at her best.” And there could be no doubt about that.
Even if what had transpired in the carriage still made his head spin and uncomfortable arousal spread through his body.
Later.
Maybe he’d try broaching the subject after they’d sated themselves in each other. Would that be better? When they were warm together and he held her in his arms and all the tension that she’d been holding in her body for the past few days finally melted away.
“Why don’t you have a tour?” Godwin asked him, interrupting his thoughts. “Ask Harrogate; he’d be happy to take you. This is your wife’s former home, after all. Could help you know her better.”
“I don’t know. It… it wouldn’t feel right.”
“Nonsense! Don’t you want to know where she came from?”
“Well, when you put it like that…” Alexander let the thought trail away.
He did want to see more of where she had come from, but although he would rather she showed him, he didn’t want to subject her to anything else that might distress her.
“Why not?” he said at last. “I might as well make the best of the time here, if she won’t dance with me.
I hardly feel inclined to dance with anyone else.
And I need a distraction.” Patting his friend on the back, he went in search of Lord Harrogate, unable to keep himself from glancing at Lydia as he went.
She hardly even looked in his direction anymore, her face pale and set, and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to go to her.
Later.
He would tell her later.
Then she could decide if she wanted him to stay or leave once and for all.