Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Oliver found himself facing the unpleasant conversation with his mother far sooner than he’d wished. He’d no more than crossed the threshold of his study when she appeared.
“I’d like to have a word with you, Oliver. Most urgently,” she said.
She wasn’t yelling or glowering, which he supposed was an improvement from the night before. Perhaps a good night’s sleep had put her in a better frame of mind. “Very well, mother. Do come in. I can presume this is about Lydia?”
“Miss Whitby,” she snapped. “Or Miss Mercer! Whatever she is calling herself these days. Has she offered any explanation for her abrupt departure?”
Oliver settled behind his desk. “No, she has not. Nor have I asked for one.”
His mother took the seat opposite his desk and drew in a deep breath, as if trying to tamp down her growing temper. “Oliver, why is she here?”
“Because I sought her out… We needed a governess. That is legitimately true.” He paused. His mother opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand to halt her. “Give me a moment to collect my thoughts and I shall explain.”
“Very well,” she conceded.
“I looked for her. For years after she left, as you well know… to no avail. But it was at Mrs. Whitby’s funeral that I actually saw her.
Heavily veiled, desperately trying to conceal her identity and she spoke to no one.
When the service had ended, she hurried off, but I followed and I saw her go to a house in Cheapside.
Not very long after, I saw her emerge leading several small children on a walk.
Based on her manner of dress, it was easy enough to determine that she was employed there as a governess.
I heard one of the children call her Miss Mercer.
And that is how I knew she had worked under an assumed name.
And when I came home, I had every intention of demanding an answer from Mr. Whitby about what had transpired before she left…
and then you came to me with Amelia’s plight. ”
She leaned back in her chair. “Oliver… I never asked you to marry Amelia.”
“Not in so many words,” he said. “But that was your expectation when you told me, was it not? Otherwise, why would you have carried the tale to me and risked exposing such a terrible and potentially ruinous secret?” There was no resentment in the accusation.
He’d long since made peace with the choices he made that day.
And if the opportunity presented itself for him to go back, he’d not change it.
Otherwise, he would not have Gemma and she was worth any amount of unhappiness he might have endured.
“I thought you might… you were so close when she was growing up. Before… before.”
He didn’t know if she meant prior to Amelia’s melancholy or prior to the dalliance that had created her predicament.
“She was your goddaughter and ran tame through this house as a child. But even as a child there was something different in Amelia, mother. She’d become moody and withdrawn…
and each time, that low period would last a bit longer.
That continued until it was no longer possible to discern one depressive state from another. ”
“There was no way to predict what happened, Oliver. I know you blame yourself—.”
“No. I do not. I do not even blame Amelia. She could not help being the way that she was. It was quite simply a condition that afflicted her throughout her life, growing progressively worse… And I will say this only once. It will never be repeated lest it be overheard,” he warned.
“After Gemma’s birth, her decline was marked.
She simply did not recover as she should have.
I never want Gemma to know that. There is no reason for her to ever have the burden of that knowledge placed upon her. ”
“I agree entirely. Some women do suffer terrible mental anguish with child bearing. Most do recover but there are exceptions. Sadly, Amelia was one of those… When, did you decide to begin your search for her again?”
Her. Not Lydia. Not Miss Mercer or Miss Whitby.
Just her. Uttered in a scathing tone. “Nearly a year ago. I had a name and a place to start. I found the agency through which she did her placements and after some time corresponding with Mrs. Baxter, I secured her assistance. When Lydia’s last position came to its natural conclusion, I arranged for her to be sent here—She did not know this was her destination.
If you fault anyone for her presence here, that fault lies entirely with me. ”
“And when she vanishes again?” His mother asked.
Her tone had become more strident, more charged with emotion.
“It will not only be your heart that is broken. Gemma has lost so much in her short life… she will love her. Because if there is one skill she possesses it is her ability to incite affection in others. Even I cared deeply for her… before. She will leave and your daughter will be shattered by it.”
“She will not,” he said. And there was a certainty in him to that which he had not been there previously.
But after seeing them together that morning, he had been left with little doubt.
“Lydia is very protective of Gemma. She would not see her hurt. And whatever her reasons were for leaving before, mother, it was not because she did not care… It’s a decision that she has suffered the consequences of just as I did.
I will know the reason eventually… and, respectfully, Mother, that particular answer is not yours to demand.
That is a thing to be dealt with between Lydia and myself. ”
His mother rose then. “You’ve clearly made your choice. I pray you are given no cause to regret it.”
With that final pronouncement she turned and sailed from the room, head high and her offended dignity evident in the firm set of her spine. It was not the end of it. He knew that, but that was one front on which he would find a reprieve—at least for a while.
“—when she vanishes again?”
Lydia had been prepared to knock on Oliver’s study door.
She’d come for a very specific reason and one that had nothing to do with the two of them and everything to do with Gemma.
Given what she’d learned about Amelia’s passing, she’d thought perhaps it would be best if Gemma, assuming she could not already do so, learned to swim.
But that was not something she would undertake without express permission from the child’s father.
But now she stood paralyzed at that door, one hand raised, hovering mere inches from the door as the words poured out to her.
It hadn’t been her intent to eavesdrop and even now, if she could pull herself away, she would.
She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to think that a woman she’d once admired so greatly found her so worthy of disdain she would not even utter her name.
It was only when Lady Charlotte rose and began moving toward the door that Lydia managed to pull herself from her dazed state.
Moving quickly, she dashed around the corner from the study door into a small concealed space behind the door to the morning room.
She waited there for a moment until there was no risk of running into Oliver’s mother with her perfectly justified hatred.
Only then did Lydia, with a deep fortifying breath, returned to the study door and knocked softly.
Oliver called out for her to enter and she did so. “Lord Hartwell—”
“Are we truly reverting to that again?” He asked softly. “It’s ridiculous.”
“When we are here, yes. If we happen to be outside and will not be overheard, informality is permitted. But it is a risk and we both know that,” she replied, sounding quite prim in the process.
Is that really who she had become? Prim, proper, dull?
It seemed a lifetime ago that she’d been a young woman dancing and laughing with handsome gentlemen all vying for her attention.
The most painful revelation in that was how little she had truly appreciated that carefree life at the time.
“Very well, Miss Lydia, we shall do things according to your wishes… What has brought you here this afternoon?”
Lydia drew in her breath, uncertain if the topic she was about to broach might be a difficult one for him. “I know we spoke of the circumstances of Gemma’s mother’s passing… and I wondered if Gemma knew how to swim. If not, is that something you wish for me to teach her?”
“Amelia did not die because she could not swim… but because of her death in such a way, I have been remiss in Gemma learning that particular skill. If you think you can teach her safely, I am not opposed to it.” It was obvious the permission he granted was reluctant.
Lydia nodded. “I will be certain to find the most shallow section of the lake to begin her lessons in.”
“Lydia… Miss Lydia,” he corrected. “I know you must have heard what mother said—.”
“And she is entitled to her feelings,” Lydia cut him off.
“You need not defend her to me or me to her. I have regrets about what happened, but at the time, it was the only way I saw forward. Perhaps that was the product of youth, arrogance or possibly even a lack of faith—I cannot say. All I can say is that it seemed like the best course of action then. I knew that if I told you—if I told you then you would convince me to stay, that we could work around unexpected obstacles that were suddenly in our path. And I didn’t want that for you. ”
“Dammit, Lydia… can you not just tell me what the obstacle is? What it was? Why it was insurmountable?”
Lydia sighed. “No. Because… I just can’t bring myself to do it. Perhaps I will someday. I’m well aware that you are owed some answers, some degree of explanation but I find that I am unable to put it into words right now. I beg you to not force a conversation that I am not prepared to have.”
He leaned back in his chair then, his hands clasped on the desk before him. “Soon… we are quickly approaching the point where I will not be put off.”
“I know that,” she agreed. “I do. And I—I am working my way around to it. In the meantime, I should like to take Gemma to the lake tomorrow. I think not in the morning as the water will be too cool, but perhaps in the afternoon.”
He nodded. “I will see you at dinner… I have some things I must attend to. Having a royal warrant as a lavender provider has dramatically changed the amount of work I find myself required to do on any given day.”
“I shall leave you to it,” Lydia stated and rose to walk out of the study. At the door, she turned back to him, “Oliver?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to be the cause of strife between you and your mother. I would alter that if I could, but the only concession she would accept is my departure and I am reluctant to do that.”
“Because Gemma needs you,” he stated.
Lydia stared at him for a long moment, then uttered something that could well damn her irrevocably. “That is one of my reasons, but not the only one. Perhaps not even the most pressing one… Until dinner.”