Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
Lydia
L ydia woke up feeling lighter than she had since the day she had been told of her impending marriage. She swung her legs out of bed and rang for Emilia before stepping to the window. As she looked out, she saw that in the distance, the leaves had begun to turn and fall, and she realized that autumn was almost upon them. Had so much time truly passed already? How strange it was that her life could change so swiftly.
Only months ago, in early summer, she had been nothing but a nobleman’s least-favored daughter, cherished only by her sisters, with a future that appeared questionable at best.
And now, she was a wife. A wife who was cherished. And perhaps even loved?
She chuckled to herself. Perhaps that was a flight of fancy. He had kissed her, and he had said a great many wonderful things about her, but such declarations were often made in haste. She knew she had to guard her heart. Time alone would reveal what would become of her and Alexander. But in this very moment, she had to admit, she felt as though the future held far more promise than she had ever dared imagine.
A knock at the door announced the arrival of her lady’s maid, and she turned, smiling at Emilia.
“Your grace, you look well-rested.”
“I feel well-rested,” she said. “Pray, will you set out my riding habit?”
The maid blinked. “Your grace wishes to go riding this morning?”
“Not this morning, but perhaps after breakfast. His grace is taking Master Eammon to see his new pony, and I have a mind to ride with them.”
“Very well,” Emilia said with a smile. “I am glad to hear it. If I may be so bold, I believe your influence upon his grace has been marvelous indeed.”
“You think so?” Lydia asked. “I do hope so. It seems as though he and Master Eammon are growing closer.”
“They are indeed. They spent the entire day together yesterday.”
Lydia chuckled. “I am aware. I am also aware that they ate cake for supper.”
“That they did. And hot drinking chocolate.”
“I think his grace was made to be a father after all. It just took a little while to draw it out of him,” Emilia said as she helped Lydia into her morning dress.
“Yes. Did you observe him yesterday with Master Eammon?”
“A little,” Emilia said, fastening Lydia’s stays. “Perhaps I ought not to tell you this, but in the evening after dinner, the two fell asleep in the drawing room. When Master Eammon took himself to bed, his grace awoke and could not find him. He was in quite a state, though he found him immediately.”
Lydia chuckled. “Ah, the joys of guardianship. If a single strand of my hair turned gray each time I lost track of one of my younger sisters, I should be entirely gray by now.”
“And you would wear it with grace,” Emilia said.
Lydia chuckled. “You are kind, Emilia.”
They finished dressing, and then Lydia made her way downstairs. To her surprise, she found that the breakfast room was already deserted, though it could not have been for long, as there were still plates and forks on the table. The footmen were usually quick about clearing away such things.
She stepped outside and spotted Alexander and Eammon walking a little ways ahead, heading toward the stables. She hadn’t expected him to go so early.
“Alexander! Eammon!” she called out and waved.
They stopped at once, and Eammon hurried toward her, his delight evident.
“Lydia! We are going to see Farnsworth!”
“Farnsworth?” she said. “Pray, who might that be?”
“The pony!” Eammon said. “It is a silly name, is it not? I said so, but Alexander declared that as he is a pedigree horse, he must have a pedigree name.”
“I did not say that,” Alexander interjected. “Henry did. But in any case, there is no reason we cannot call him something else, if you do not like it. Unofficially, of course. Officially, he will have to remain Farnsworth.” Then he looked at Lydia. “Good morning. I had not expected you to be up so early.”
“Is it early yet?” she asked, glancing at the sky.
“Only eight,” Alexander said. “But I do not blame you. I found it quite difficult to sleep myself.”
He looked at her with such intensity that her cheeks burned.
“Right, well,” she said, “I slept quite well. But it seems I did not need as much rest as I thought. In any case, I had intended to take breakfast with you, then see about visiting the stables, and then?—”
Why was she babbling?
“We took breakfast quite early,” Alexander said. “I was eager to see the horse and could not sleep.”
“Indeed. I thought as much. I also thought it might be pleasant for the three of us to ride together. I had my maid lay out my riding habit, just in case.”
He smiled. “I would like that. There is a spot I had in mind to show Eammon—if he feels comfortable riding.”
“I am to ride?” Eammon asked.
“Of course,” Alexander said with a chuckle. “What did you think a horse was for?”
Eammon paled a little and looked up at Lydia, who stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Do not fret. We will not go fast. And you need not ride alone, of course.”
“Oh, of course not,” Alexander said, and it was clear he had not considered that Eammon did not yet know how to ride. “Perhaps you might ride with me, in front. We shall only trot, not gallop.”
Relieved, Eammon nodded. “That sounds mighty fine.”
“Very well, then,” Alexander said, and the three of them made their way to the stables together.
Once there, they spent some time admiring the horses. It occurred to Lydia that, despite having lived here for several weeks now—had it been two months already?—she had never visited the stables. How had she not?
She was drawn from her musings when she heard Eammon cooing. She looked up and saw a beautiful bay pony standing in its stall.
“Fanny,” he said, clasping his hands together.
Alexander chuckled. “I suppose the horse is to be called Fanny now?”
“It is a much better name,” Lydia said. “Do you not agree?”
He leaned toward her. “I thought Farnsworth was a dreadful name for a horse—pedigree or not. I never understood the habit of giving animals such fancy names. I should much rather have a dog named Pup or Buddy than Reginald or Hancock.”
Lydia chuckled. “I am in full agreement. It is good to know that, should we ever fill our home with animals, they shall have agreeable names.”
He looked at her and smiled—a smile that lit his entire face.
“I am pleased that you think of our future—and our potential house full of animals.”
She wet her lips, thinking of their kiss from the night before, but then cleared her throat.
“Well, shall I change into my riding habit?” she asked.
She rushed back to the house, where Emilia helped her into her riding attire, then returned to the stables to find that a beautiful gray mare had already been saddled for her.
Alexander informed her that Eammon had taken a few turns about the stable with Fanny, while Alexander informed her that the boy had been rather hesitant at first but was growing braver by the moment.
“She is lovely,” Eammon said. “But so very large.”
“Soon, she will not seem so,” Lydia assured him. “You know my sister, Cressida? She is the same age as you. She learned to ride last year, and now she is nearly an expert.”
His eyes grew wide. “So that means in a few years, I shall be an expert?”
“I think you shall be an expert in six months, young man,” Alexander said.
Alexander nodded to the groom, who stepped forward and lifted Eammon into the saddle in front of him.
“Oh, it is so high up!” Eammon exclaimed. “I have never been on a horse like this before.”
Alexander’s brow furrowed. “You have not? Your father never took you riding?”
“No,” Eammon said. “I saw him ride, but I was always too frightened.”
Lydia stepped forward, stroking the horse’s long neck. “You need not worry. Alexander will take good care of you.”
She looked up at Alexander, who winked at her and mouthed, “Thank you.” She nodded, smiling, before making her way to her own horse. Once she had mounted, they rode down the long drive leading away from Hayworth House. From there, they took the path through the forest, always trotting so as not to startle Eammon.
“Where are we going?” the boy asked.
“You shall see,” Alexander said. “It is not far. It is a secret.”
Lydia arched a brow, smiling. “I did not know you were prone to keeping secrets.”
He returned her smile. “Only the pleasant sort. Never the dreadful.”
“Well, I am relieved, then,” she replied.
The air between them was light, easy, and Lydia found herself already looking forward to the evening ahead. Perhaps, once Eammon had gone to bed, she and Alexander might talk, or—she smiled as she remembered the kiss from the night before.
“What is that?” Eammon cried, suddenly letting go of the saddle to point ahead with one hand.
“No, no!” Alexander exclaimed, seizing the boy’s hand and placing it back on the saddle. Eammon gasped, eyes wide.
Alexander sighed. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to frighten you, but you frightened me. You must always hold the saddle—it is very important.”
The sudden shift in mood was palpable. Lydia saw the boy’s chin wobble—he was about to cry.
“Alexander is right,” she said gently. “You must always secure yourself when riding. Even if you merely wish to point at something, you must keep hold of the saddle.”
“And that is all part of learning,” Alexander added. “I should not have been so harsh, but I value you, Eammon. I would not have anything happen to you. Your parents would never forgive me.”
Eammon swallowed hard and nodded. “I understand.” He clutched the saddle again, so tightly that Lydia saw his knuckles pale.
“Now,” Alexander said, his tone lightening once more. “You were asking about that over there.”
He nodded toward the clearing ahead.
“It is a swing!”
Lydia squinted, then smiled as she caught sight of it—a great oak tree, and from one of its strongest branches hung a wooden swing, swaying slightly in the breeze.
“Has that been there for so many years?” Eammon asked. “Will it not break if I sit on it?”
Lydia tilted her head. “The boy makes a good point. The ropes look new, though.”
She dismounted, stepping forward to run her fingers along the rope. Indeed, it was sturdy.
“I had them replaced not long ago,” Alexander admitted. “In fact, Henry and Edwin helped me. They wished for their children to discover the swing one day and wanted to ensure it was safe.”
He smiled at Eammon. “What do you say? Would you like to try it?”
Eammon beamed. “I would!”
Lydia steadied the swing while Eammon climbed on, his legs dangling. Alexander stood behind, gripping the ropes.
“Ready?” Alexander asked.
Eammon nodded eagerly. Alexander gave a gentle push, sending the swing forward. Eammon gasped, then laughed.
“Higher!” he cried.
Alexander obliged, pushing a little harder. Lydia stepped back, watching the scene unfold, warmth blooming in her chest.
“You must have spent much time here as a child,” she mused.
Alexander nodded. “My mother set up this swing when we were young. My sisters were too small, but I—” He hesitated, glancing toward the sky. “I spent hours here. She would push me, and we would talk. They are some of my happiest memories.”
Lydia’s smile softened. “She sounds like she was a wonderful woman.”
“She was.” He exhaled, then turned to her. “I am glad I am able to bring a child of my own here.”
Her heart skipped. Had he truly just said that?
Before she could find a suitable reply, Eammon called out, “This is the best day ever!”
Alexander chuckled. “I am pleased to hear it.”
Lydia clasped her hands before her, watching as Alexander continued to push the boy. The way he interacted with Eammon—gentle, patient, protective—it was clear he cared for him.
And he will make a wonderful father one day.
Heat rushed to her cheeks at the thought. She turned away slightly, staring at the sun-dappled grass.
Would their marriage be one of mere duty? Or would it bloom into something more?
A breeze swept through the trees, rustling the leaves above. Lydia closed her eyes briefly, letting the air cool her warm skin.
When she opened them again, Alexander was looking at her.
“It is lovely. I adore it here.”
“As do I,” he replied and smiled at her. “I know you must leave soon to see Louisa. Emilia told me.”
“I do, but not yet. I have some time before I must go,” she said.
“I am glad,” he replied, his smile wide and warm.
And so, they remained.
Together.