Chapter Forty-Nine
On Monday evening, Lydia had just finished laying the conservatory tables for breakfast when Sally appeared in the doorway.
“Miss Taylor,” Sally said, her tone unusually warm. “If you have a moment, I wondered if we might talk.”
Lydia blinked, surprised by the invitation. “Of course. Would you like to come through to the sitting room?”
Sally followed her inside, settling neatly onto the sofa while Lydia poured two cups of tea. The older woman accepted hers with a gracious nod, her posture immaculate, her expression composed.
“I wanted to thank you,” Sally began. “You run this place beautifully. It has been a comfort to stay somewhere so well organised.”
Lydia smiled politely, though wary curiosity stirred beneath it. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your stay.”
Sally took a delicate sip of tea. “I’ve been thinking a great deal about William. He has had a very difficult year, and I worry he has been left rather adrift.”
Lydia’s fingers tightened around her cup, but she kept her face composed as something inside her sank at the quiet judgement beneath Sally’s words.
“He’s allowed the children far too much freedom since Eliza died—though, if I’m honest, she was always rather lenient with them too.”
Lydia listened, careful and quiet.
Sally continued, her voice softening with earnest conviction. “William needs someone steady in his life. Someone capable. Someone who understands how to manage a household properly.”
Lydia’s breath caught.
Sally leaned forward. “I must say, Miss Taylor, you are exactly the sort of woman William needs. Calm, capable and organised. You would bring some proper stability into that household.”
For a moment, Lydia could think of nothing to say.
Sally smiled, pleased with her own reasoning. “And I am quite sure you would be a far better influence on William than this Lydia person the children seem to be attached to.”
Lydia lowered her cup carefully to its saucer.
“That is very kind of you, Mrs Vance, but I think William is perfectly capable of deciding who he wants in his life.”
“Of course,” Sally said, apparently undeterred. “I merely think the two of you should meet properly.”
Lydia pressed her lips together, uncertain whether to laugh or hide.
? ? ?
The following morning, Richard was already seated at the breakfast table when Sally joined him, her expression bright with purpose. Lydia moved quietly around the conservatory, topping up the coffee pot and setting down fresh fruit, her mind still circling the previous evening’s conversation.
“I’ve made a decision,” Sally announced.
Richard lowered his newspaper. “Oh?”
“I am going to introduce Miss Taylor to William.”
Richard glanced towards Lydia, who had turned away to straighten the cups on the sideboard.
“Do you think she would be interested?”
“Why wouldn’t she be? William is a good man, and Miss Taylor is exactly what that household needs. She would be a far better influence than this Lydia person.”
Richard considered this, then nodded. “She is certainly very capable.”
“Precisely.” Sally lifted her teacup with satisfaction. “Once William meets her properly, I’m sure everything will fall into place.”
Lydia carried the empty coffee pot into the hallway before either of them noticed that she had heard every word.
Sally Vance was planning to introduce William to Miss Taylor—while protecting him from Lydia.
Lydia leaned against the closed conservatory door, uncertain whether to laugh or hide.