Chapter Eighteen #2
Lydia laughed as tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, Bertie.” She hiccupped on a sob. “So much has happened since you left. It’s been awful. Just awful.”
“Are you ill?”
“No, not ill.” She shook her head. “That is, not with any specific malady.”
“Well, thank God for that.” Bertram’s eyes narrowed. “Does it have something to do with the earl?”
“Yes, it does.”
He groaned. “Oh, let me guess. All of a sudden, you’re not good enough for him.”
“It would appear so,” Lydia replied. “But I can’t understand it, Bertie. I thought he loved me. No, I was sure he did.”
“Come, my dear,” Bertram said, steering her to the settee. “Sit down and tell me everything. And I mean everything. I’ll say nothing till you’ve finished.”
A half hour later, after emptying her heart and soul, Lydia blew her nose with her tear-sodden handkerchief and sat back.
“There,” she said, sniffing. “Now you know everything. And yes, I remember your warning that day in the garden, so you probably think me a complete fool, but please be kind. I’m so tired of crying. ”
Bertram grimaced. “You’re not a fool, Lyddie.
Never that. This Pendlewood fellow is the fool for letting you go.
And, I have to ask, are you certain about this Dove-Lyon woman’s integrity?
You must admit, she’s a bit of an oddity, hiding behind that veil all these years.
Are you sure she’s sincere and didn’t set this game up as some kind of amusement for the upper classes?
She owns a gambling house after all, which makes me wonder if—”
“No, Bertie.” Lydia shook her head. “Papa trusted her implicitly, and you know how insightful he was. She’s been very kind to me and is genuinely sympathetic, not to mention shocked.
So too are Lord and Lady Eskdale, who are among Ambrose’s closest friends.
They left London a few weeks ago, but Lady Eskdale and I have since exchanged correspondence.
Neither of them can make sense of Ambrose’s change of mind.
” Frowning, she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Or his change of heart.”
Bertie took her hand in his. “What you need, my dear girl, is a change of your own. Something new and exciting to take your mind off things.”
Lydia lifted her head and smiled at him. “Actually, I don’t disagree. I’ve been giving some thought to my future of late. I need a distraction.”
“Travel,” Bertram said. “It opens the heart and mind to so many different things.”
“Yes, travel is one of the things I’m considering,” Lydia replied. “My father made his fortune dealing with foreign lands, yet I’ve never been abroad.”
“Do you have somewhere in mind?”
Lydia shrugged. “Well, the Continent, certainly. No decisions yet, though. I need to give it more thought.”
Bertie brought her hand to his lips. “Might you consider crossing the Atlantic?”
Lydia gasped. “No! My goodness, Bertie, I cannot see myself doing something as dramatic as that.”
“Well, perhaps you should give it some consideration,” Bertram replied. “Look, I know I said I was leaving in a week, but I’ll make it a fortnight. Give you some time to think about it.”
“But I couldn’t possibly. What you’re suggesting is… well, it’s unthinkable. The Atlantic?” Lydia shook her head. “No, I simply cannot conceive of it. My home is here, Bertie. My house is here.”
“And it still will be. You don’t have to sell it,” Bertram replied. “Just give it some thought, Lyddie, that’s all. I’ve put the idea in your head, so let’s leave it at that for now.” He glanced at the window. “Fancy a walk? Looks like the rain has stopped.”
Lydia, her mind whirling due to what had just been said, gaped at him. “I’m not sure.”
He chuckled. “You’re not sure if the rain has stopped? Or not sure if you want to go for a walk?”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes. A walk would be nice.”
Smiling, he rose and held out a hand. “Come on then.”
“Bertie, what have you started?” Lydia took his hand as she stood. “My brain is all fog. I can’t think straight.”
Another chuckle. “The fog will dissipate, my dear. We have time to consider the options. You have time.”
“But would it be a permanent thing?”
“That’s entirely up to you. It doesn’t have to be. In fact, I’m considering moving back here, but it wouldn’t be till next year at the earliest.”
Lydia gasped. “You are?”
He nodded. “Glasgow is looking very attractive right now. I’d venture to say it’s set to become the ship-building capital of this country. Maybe even the world. Lots of opportunity.”
What was he suggesting? “Bertie, I’m not sure that you and I are—”
“Lydia Jane Page, you will stop right there,” he said.
“I haven’t proposed marriage, nor am I expecting any such obligation on your part.
I’m simply suggesting the potential of a mutually beneficial relationship.
We know each other very well. We get along.
And you know I would never hurt you. Quite the contrary.
I would cherish you. You don’t need to decide in the next five minutes, my dear.
You have two weeks, which should be long enough for you to consider what I’ve said. ”
“But I don’t have two weeks, Bertie,” Lydia replied. “A decision of this magnitude would have to be made well beforehand. I have things to consider. People to consider.”
“Your staff, you mean?” He shrugged. “I assume you trust them.”
“Unquestionably.”
“Then pay them to take care of your house just as they do now. The only difference is you won’t be here. You’re a wealthy woman, Lyddie. With wealth comes freedom. If you really wanted to, you could pack a trunk tonight and leave for foreign fields tomorrow.”
He did have a point. The chaos in Lydia’s brain quietened a little. Even so, the thought of boarding a ship and crossing the ocean made her stomach churn.
I won’t just be leaving my home, though. I’ll be leaving him. As if he cares! Actually, perhaps that’s exactly what I need to do. Put plenty of distance between us. Carve out a new life in a land that does not have him in it. Breathe different air.
“I swear I can hear those wheels turning in your head,” Bertram said, and kissed the back of her hand. “Come on, let’s walk and do some reminiscing. And you’d better bring an umbrella, just in case.”