Chapter Thirty-Eight
When the horrid suspicion first ignited, Edmund wanted to dismiss it outright.
He kept waiting for the marchioness to do or say something to contradict his thoughts.
Though he’d been trying his damnedest not to look at Lydia—concerned for what he’d do or say if he saw even an ounce of hurt or distress on her face, it finally became impossible.
It had only taken a moment to understand. Beneath her quiet determination and calm poise, he saw her struggling with anger and uncertainty. And he saw the betrayal and disbelief she tried to conceal when she looked at her mother.
She’d suspected the marchioness all along.
His heart ached for the pain she must be feeling.
“I want the best for my daughter,” the marchioness retorted. “And you are not it, Lord Darlington.”
When his mother stirred in preparation to spew a defense, Edmund cleared his throat.
She’d insisted upon coming along to this meeting, and it was only because he didn’t want her spreading gossip about what she’d seen that he allowed her to accompany him.
But he’d made it very clear on the way over that she was to keep her caustic mouth shut.
Mrs. Holt quieted with a resentful harrumph while the marchioness turned her gaze to Lydia with a dark disappointed look.
“You’ve always been so difficult. From the very start.
You were always a stubborn child, refusing to sleep when you were supposed to and demanding control over the content of your lessons.
And then, your absolute refusal to engage in society as the daughter of a marquess should.
It is long past time for you to do what is best.”
Lydia rose to her feet. “Best for whom, Mother?”
“For you!” Lady Loxmarch exclaimed. “You cannot go through this life unprotected. You have ambitions. I understand. So did I. But a woman cannot survive in our world without a husband. She certainly cannot thrive. If you’d just accept that your behavior these last few years has been selfish and dangerous and let me guide you, you could have a duke, Lydia. ”
Edmund watched as Lydia took a deep breath. Her answer was strong and simple. “No.”
The heat of anger and frustration reddened the marchioness’s face.
“Good Gracious, child,” the marchioness shouted.
“You cannot keep refusing my efforts to see you properly settled with a husband of good standing. Your jaunts about town need to stop. Your luncheons and seminars and lectures need to stop. People are calling you a bluestocking!” The marchioness’s eyes were wide and glinting.
“Did you know that? No wonder no gentleman wants to dance with you. You are an utter embarrassment and the greatest disappointment of my life.”
The room fell heavily silent after the lady’s harsh words.
A quick glance to Redington found the young man tense with anger directed at his aunt. Lady Redington, however, stared intently back at Edmund with a steady unwavering gaze.
He barely acknowledged it as he returned his focus to Lydia.
She stood now, facing her mother with squared shoulders and her hands tightly linked together in front of her.
Though the marchioness appeared slightly startled by her own impassioned outburst, she did not attempt to take the words back. With a quick blink, she steadied her breath and angled her gaze at her daughter.
Lydia’s voice was calm and emotionless. “You’ve said as much to me so many times over the years, Mother, that the words no longer mean anything.
You’ll probably hate to discover this, but knowing that I would never meet your expectations and never earn your praise was what gave me the courage to live in the way that pleased me. And I honestly thank you for that.”
“This foolishness has to stop,” the marchioness countered sharply. “Surely, tonight has proven that.”
Lydia smiled. “I can understand why you think it would, since you know me so little and have never made any effort to change that. But the possibility of ruination doesn’t scare me.
Being rejected by a society that never wanted me doesn’t worry me.
Surely, the fact that I ignored those threatening notes should’ve told you that. ”
Surprised at her mention of the notes, Edmund’s gaze flew to the marchioness. In a second, her flushed face lost all color. Her eyes widened then narrowed fiercely, and her lips pressed firmly together. No confusion. No worry. Just harsh silence.
Lydia’s shoulders fell, just a bit. She’d noted her mother’s reaction, as well.
His body tensed with the sudden desire to vault over the sofa to stand behind Lydia.
She shouldn’t have to face this situation while standing alone in the middle of the room.
Every instinct he possessed demanded he be her support, her shield, her sword.
Whatever she needed. But a voice in his head reminded him that she hadn’t even wanted him here.
“What threatening notes?” Lord Redington asked, his tone sharp with concern.
The marchioness stared unblinking at Lydia who gave a weighed sigh.
“I didn’t want to believe you’d go to such lengths.
I refused to consider it for a time. But I always suspected…
” She stopped and shook her head. Her next words were thick with emotion she clearly tried to staunch. “Why couldn’t you just accept me?”
“Why couldn’t you just do as you were told?” the marchioness snapped.
Lydia laughed. It was a strained and unnatural sound.
“What threatening notes?” The marquess’s tone was hard as he repeated his question.
“Do you wish to explain, Mother?”
“I’ve no idea what you’re referencing.”
“Really?” Lydia pressed. “I suppose you’ve no knowledge of a solicitor by the name of Mr. Frances Trevor, Esq. who apparently specializes in attempts at blackmail.”
Lady Loxmarch’s gaze flew instantly to Edmund, her dark eyes burning with fury. At the same time, Lady Redington gasped softly and Lord Redington cursed beneath his breath before muttering, “What did you do, Aunt Angela?”
“You!” The marchioness accused with a sharply pointed finger toward Edmund. “How did you know?”
Though he burned with the desire to slay every monster in Lydia’s world, Edmund held himself to a sneering grin. “I didn’t. But now she does.”
As his gaze flickered back to Lydia, he noted the subtle sway of her form.
He didn’t resist his urge this time and strode swiftly around the sofa to stand behind her.
She turned toward him immediately, but before he could fully acknowledge the pleasure he felt in that, he recognized the look on her face.
The one he’d seen before her previous dismissals.
The one that said she intended to go it alone.
“Lord Darlington.” Her voice was steady, despite the glimmer of emotion buried deep in her gaze. “This has become a family matter. I would appreciate if you and your mother would leave us now.”
His hands clenched in denial. He wanted to refuse her. To stand beside her and support her in this. He never would’ve suspected her own mother had been behind this the whole time. But she had. He couldn’t imagine the betrayal she must be feeling. She needed someone to have her back. She needed him.
Or maybe he just needed to be that person for her.
His heart sank like a stone to the pit of his stomach. Maybe she didn’t need him at all.
Lady Redington stood then and, when he glanced to her, she gave a subtle nod.
She knew his dilemma, it seemed, and was trying to assure him she would be Lydia’s support.
It helped. But only a little.
He’d still feel like the biggest coward and as treacherous as her mother, if he left Lydia now. Returning his gaze to her face, he saw her determination and pride, but he also saw how important it was for her to face this in her way, with her own fortitude leading the way.
That was the whole point of this.
She needed to prove to her mother she was more than capable of handling the challenges of her life without a husband.
His presence in regard to that endeavor would only be a liability.
Releasing a heavy breath, he smiled at her. Then he held her gaze, saying everything he could with his eyes, as he stepped forward to take her hand and lift it to his lips for a chaste kiss on her knuckles.
Then he turned to Lord and Lady Redington and gave a short bow of his head. As he turned to his mother, however, she began to sputter and wave her hands.
“Yer just gonna do as she says? Ye can’t walk away from this. Ye’ve got a duty—”
“Ma,” Edmund interrupted, “We’re leaving. Now.”
“The hell we are.”
Ignoring her argument, Edmund started for the door. “You can come with me now or have Lord Redington’s footmen toss you on the street.”
He knew better than anyone that arguing with his mother only escalated her tactics to win. The only way to handle her was to leave her with no options.
As he left the room, he heard his mother grumpily following at his heels, but not before she announced to the room, “This ain’t finished. There’s still a possible scandal to deal with.”
Which was clearly a threat since the only person who might spread gossip of this event was herself.
Edmund ignored her as they left the mansion and climbed into his carriage. But as soon as the door shut, his mother sent her hand flying toward his face. He caught her wrist just before her palm made contact. His flat glare met her murderous gaze.
“Ye bleedin’ idiot!” she shouted. “Ye had her in her hands. A fookin’ Fairchild! A duke’s niece. D’ye know how grand that is? I always knew ye were a stupid boy. Stupid and selfish and useless, ye are.”
Edmund gave a rough chuckle as he released her wrist. “Yes, I’ve heard all this many times. One would think you’d have come up with better insults over the years.”
His mother sneered as she fell back into her seat with a huff. “Yer a fookin’ waste of me blood and tears. Just as yer da. Useless fools.”
Edmund turned his attention out the window. She went on for a while more, spitting her familiar, hateful vitriol. When she finally fell into a grumpy silence, he said, “You’ll be returning to Bath in the morning.”
“I bloody will not.”
“You will, or I will cease paying for your lovely house there. I’ll sell your carriage and your horses and close your accounts at every shop you enjoy.
You will have to return to the East End or beg from your friends.
” He met her stare. “Remember that I fund your very comfortable life under the agreement that you stay out of mine.”
“Yer a hateful, selfish bastard,” his mother finally muttered, telling him she would do as he said.
“So you’ve always said,” he drawled.