Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
It was done.
Lydia felt heavy. She stood beside the Duke of Nightford, a man she could call a husband and a stranger. He was not a friend. He wasn’t a romantic partner. Fate had simply thrown them together, as though a rolling of the dice had determined the outcome of her life.
She tried not to think about the kiss. It had been most unexpected, more so because the touch of his lips against her skin had not been unpleasant.
Lydia told herself that she had been overwhelmed by the occasion.
It wasn’t as if there was any emotion in the kiss anyway.
The Duke of Nightford was not a man to be swept away by a relentless passion.
It was all for show, hollow.
They made their way out of the church. It was a sunny day, and the light made her squint. Victor showed her to the carriage.
“We shall be in Brighton soon,” he said. “We shall just stop off to pick up the baby.”
Lydia was startled, fearing that she had misheard him.
“Brighton?” she asked. “I thought you resided in London?”
“I stop in London for business, but my main residence is in Brighton. It is a pleasant part of the country. I’m sure that you will find it pleasing,” he said although a strange look came over his face after he spoke, as though he didn’t quite have any conviction about his words.
“I thought we were going to remain in London,” Lydia said, glancing longingly over her shoulder at her family and friends. Not only was she married, but she was being taken away from everything she knew.
“I apologize if I did not make it clear. I assumed you knew that my estate was located in Brighton.”
“I was not informed of that,” Lydia said, and a shadow came upon her mind.
If he could mislead her about this, then what else remained hidden from her?
It seemed more likely that this arrangement was never going to end, and she even started to wonder if this was some kind of elaborate scheme to entrap her in marriage.
“I thought it might be easier for us to leave London while the scandal is still wafting in the air. Our absence will give the ton a chance to lose interest. I’m sure it won’t be too long before something else draws their attention,” he said, and Lydia had to rethink the matter.
Perhaps the Duke wasn’t entirely thoughtless.
“That is a good idea,” she conceded.
“I sense you are close with your family. Should you wish to see them, you can arrange transport whenever you like, and you may invite them to the house as well,” he said.
“That is very gracious of you,” she replied testily.
He might have been earnest with his offer, but she was not about to act coy and sweet.
She intended to make this marriage difficult so that even if he had a plan to make it last, he would not want it to.
The only thing that gave her pause was the baby.
Her concern for the infant would outweigh anything else of course, but she did not intend to be trapped forever.
A footman opened the door of the carriage.
Victor held out his hand and showed Lydia in.
To her surprise, a maid was sitting in the carriage, tending to the baby in the basket.
The child’s wide eyes absorbed everything, and when they landed on Lydia, the baby squealed and reached out impossibly small fingers in Lydia’s direction.
“He remembers you, Your Grace,” the maid observed and then looked embarrassed, as if she should not have spoken at all.
Lydia’s heart was touched. The maid rose, and Lydia sank beside the child.
“I wasn’t expecting to see him here,” Lydia said, reaching in and offering the baby her finger. The baby gripped it with his whole hand, as though he would never let go.
“Whether I like it or not, the baby is under my care. I intend to find his mother and reunite them. I wish for all of London to see that when it happens. And you did seem to have a connection with the baby. I hoped you would not mind keeping the child company,” Victor said.
“Of course not,” Lydia said. She smiled for the first time that day and made silly noises. The baby kicked his legs and wiggled, making motions with his mouth as if he wanted to laugh, but he didn’t quite know how yet. “Is there no wet nurse traveling with us?”
The Duke narrowed his eyes, as though offended by the suggestion that such a thing had slipped his attention.
“She will be in a second carriage. We will stop if the baby fusses.”
“When,” Lydia said quietly, knowing that a baby could not make the journey from London to Brighton without feeding. Privately she lamented that she could not nourish the baby herself.
Victor looked at them strangely as he tucked his jacket beneath his legs and took his seat opposite Lydia and the baby.
The carriage was soon underway. The rhythm of the horses was steady, and the audible clop of their hooves was a welcome sound.
Lydia focused on the baby rather than her new husband, for she did not have much to say to him.
However, the trundling rhythm soon sent the baby to sleep, and the child did not look as though he would wake up for a long time.
“Perhaps we should set out some ground rules for our marriage,” the Duke suggested after the maid closed her eyes too and drifted off into a sound sleep.
“This will be a marriage in name only. I shall not bear you an heir,” Lydia said almost immediately as she had intended to make this clear as soon as possible. Privately, she thought that he might well have an heir already, despite his protestations to the contrary.
“Agreed,” Victor replied quickly. Perhaps she was wrong in assuming that this was some scheme designed to make her his wife. “As you have seen, I am not suited for fatherhood.”
“My brother-in-law thought the same about himself, but he grew into it. I think for some people it comes naturally when it is their own child,” Lydia observed.
“Perhaps, but we shall not find out,” Victor said, craning his neck to peer at the baby.
“You must treat me with respect,” Lydia added, returning to her terms. “I am not a servant, and I do not exist solely to obey your orders. I do possess a mind of my own.”
“Indeed,” the Duke murmured. “More and more women seem to have minds and opinions of their own these days.”
“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Lydia challenged.
“I think that there should be a balance in the household; that is all,” Victor said. She could not help but think his words were evasive, and she was intrigued to discover how this played out in practice and how he defined ‘balance.’
“And you should not expect affection or closeness where none exists,” Lydia continued.
Victor inclined his head in acknowledgment of her words.
“I shall not demand anything from you other than what is required to maintain appearances. I hope that we can at least be civil with each other. After all, neither of us wanted this. We are both suffering,” he said pointedly, as though he wanted to correct Lydia’s assumption that she was the only one having to endure something she did not want.
“I think perhaps that you will find it more tolerable being married to me than I shall find it being married to you,” Lydia argued, arching her eyebrows and adopting an airy look.
“I don’t think you should be so hasty. I will not be seeking attention all the time, or babbling on about meaningless things,” he retorted.
Lydia drew back, recoiling with an offended look.
“I do not babble about meaningless things!” she cried.
“I do not babble at all,” Victor replied with a look on his face that suggested he had just scored a decisive victory. The baby stirred a little and made a noise although he did not wake up. Lydia leaned over the basket to check on him.
“I will care for him until the matter of his parentage is settled, for this is his mother’s right. But I do want to ask you about this special license. Are you certain it is legally binding?”
“Of course,” he said indignantly. “Trust me, Lydia, I have no desire to be married any longer than is necessary. As is the case with you. The special license allowed us to marry without delay. We both want the same thing, and then we will have our freedom again once the conditions are met.”
“The conditions…”
“We must find this child’s parents, and the marriage must remain unconsummated,” he explained.
Lydia nodded softly although she felt a nagging doubt crawl around the back of her mind like a storm cloud on the horizon.
“And what if we do not find his parents?” she asked in a hesitant voice, almost as though she was afraid to ask the question. Victor’s pause did not comfort her, nor did the way he wrung his hands together and directed his gaze to the carriage’s window.
“Then I suppose we will have to try our best to live as we both wish,” he replied. It was not an entirely heartening sentiment.
“We will find where you came from,” Lydia said, turning to the sleeping child. “I promise.”
She made this vow not only for the child’s sake but also for her own.
She intended to keep it as well. Too many solemn words had been broken in her life.
The two most important ones had been when her parents promised to return from their expedition and then when Edmund assured her that he would not force her into marriage.
Lydia knew how it felt when trust was shattered, and she didn’t want this child to feel that pain, even if he did not know what a promise was.
“Is there any point in talking to him? It’s not as though he can understand you,” Victor pointed out with gentle scorn.
“Babies can understand more than you think, and this is the way they learn. Besides, how would you feel if you were in a room and everyone ignored you?”
Victor’s lower lip jutted out.
“I think I might find that agreeable. Nothing good ever seems to come from garnering people’s attention,” he said.
On that, Lydia could agree.
The journey to Brighton took most of the day, and they arrived at Victor’s estate by nightfall. The baby stirred as the carriage came to a stop. Lydia made soothing noises and lifted him from the basket, holding the child close.
Lydia stepped out of the carriage and gazed at the Nightford estate for the first time.
It was not as foreboding as the name suggested.
The main house was large, flanked by a large, lush garden on the east side.
Located on the west side were stables. Grooms came rushing out, ready to tend to the horses.
Outside, the house servants came marching towards the carriage, ready to bring the luggage inside.
“Prepare rooms in the east wing, overlooking the garden,” Victor said.
It was a pleasant touch, Lydia thought, and she wondered if this was just a coincidence or if he had taken into account her family’s history.
While Lydia wasn’t as enthusiastic about botany as Charlotte, she had always held an appreciation for plants.
“The baby shall reside in chambers adjoining my own,” Lydia said without thinking. The servants stared at her then looked towards Victor. He gave a nod, and they scurried away. Lydia bounced up and down, trying to calm the baby until the wet nurse arrived.
“It seems as though authority comes naturally to you,” Victor said, arching his eyebrow with surprise.
“They will have to get used to taking orders from me. I hope they do not always look to you for confirmation. I am the Duchess now, and I have a right to give orders in my own house. As you said, if we are to appear as a legitimate couple, then we must act like one.”
“You are quite correct, Duchess,” Victor agreed, giving a curt nod. Lydia couldn’t quite tell if he was making fun of her or not.
They entered the house. Victor told Lydia that she was free to rest after the long day of travel and that a maid would stop by shortly to bring her any food she requested. With that, he bowed his head and disappeared down a long corridor.
Lydia stared at him and then turned towards the stairs.
A maid approached her and offered to take the baby to the wet nurse.
Lydia released the child, feeling a sense of loss, wishing that she could comfort the baby and tell him that everything was going to work out for the best. In a way, they were going through similar things.
They were both in unfamiliar surroundings, having to find their way, and they needed to rely on others as well. The baby had her to rely on while she had the Duke. She knew who had the better of the bargain.
At least he hadn’t insisted on sharing a chamber with her. While he wasn’t the husband she wanted, he didn’t seem cruel, and he wanted this marriage to end as much as she did.
Whether that would be enough remained to be seen.