Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Victor rubbed his bleary eyes. John’s piercing cries rang through the room.
Victor yawned as he moved to the crib and picked the child up, rocking him back and forth.
Victor mimicked the soothing noises Lydia made, and he tentatively sniffed the air, but as he moved into the soft glow of the hearth, he saw John’s lips puckering.
He was hungry.
“Georgia!” Victor called out. There was no response.
Victor tried again, but still there was no response.
He frowned and marched out of the room, holding the squirming baby in his arms. He was well rested although the strangest dream lingered in his mind.
A soft presence had come to him while he had been sleeping.
While he was not a superstitious man, he felt as though an angel had visited him.
“Georgia!” Victor bellowed. A door was flung open and frantic footsteps followed as Georgia rushed up to Victor.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t hear you calling. These walls are so thick!” she said, taking John into her arms. She settled down and pulled her dress away. Victor averted his gaze. John had been whimpering and weeping in Victor’s arms, but he settled now that he had something to eat.
Victor breathed with relief. There was always something so frazzling when John cried, as though the entire world had been upended, and nothing could make things right.
“Did you sleep well, Your Grace? I didn’t hear the baby cry all through the night.”
Victor thought that she didn’t hear as much as she should.
“I stayed with him. He stirred once or twice, but it seems that he understands the value of sleep.”
“Oh yes, he’s a smart one, all right. I bet he’ll grow up to do wonderful things,” she said knowingly.
While Victor knew she did not possess any great insight, he wanted to believe that she did.
John may not have been his by blood, but he did feel a sense of pride when thinking about the man he might become.
Was it too prideful to think that being around him would instill a sense of honor and ambition in John?
Victor wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t dismiss the idea.
Victor left John with Georgia and moved to the breakfast room. Lydia was already there, wearing a fetching smile.
“Is everything well?” she asked.
“He was hungry. I’ve left him with Georgia,” Victor said, waiting for the butler to pull out his chair before he sat down.
“Good. And how did he sleep?”
“Rather well, actually. Although I’m not sure I did my neck any favors by sleeping in the chair.” He winced a little and reached to the nape of his neck, pressing his fingers against tender muscles.
“I do appreciate you taking the time to sit with him,” Lydia said.
Her gaze lingered on Victor in a way he found unsettling.
A hint of a smile appeared on her mouth, and there was an expectant air about her although she said nothing.
A slight arch of her eyebrows hinted at a secret, but he could not fathom what that might be.
As he waited for her to speak, the silence lingered. Lydia cleared her throat, as if to draw his attention, but when he looked up, she just had that same polite expression on her face again. He furrowed his brow, wondering if there was a promise he’d made or a message he was supposed to deliver.
“Is there something you wish to address?” he asked, thinking that in the end it was better to approach the matter directly rather than making assumptions.
However, this seemed to be entirely the wrong thing to say as Lydia’s features became pinched. The light faded from her eyes, and there was no longer a trace of a smile on her lips. She cleared her throat as she angrily spread jam on toast, and she did not meet his gaze.
“I suppose not,” she huffed under her breath which alluded to the fact that there was something, but for the life of him, Victor did not know what it could have been.
He shook his head, deciding that he would never understand Lydia’s way of thinking, but while she had nothing to share, he did have some news.
“There is a ball in London. I would not ordinarily attend, but given the circumstances I believe it would be best for us to make an appearance. If we appear publicly together, then it might go a long way to quelling any nasty rumors.”
“When is this ball?” Lydia asked cooly.
“In three days.”
Lydia dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Victor glanced at her and became extraordinarily concerned with a dollop of jam that lingered in the corner of her mouth. It was trapped between her lips, a glistening scarlet drop. It was the color of passion, desire, and danger.
Victor felt something stirring within him.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and yet he could not force his gaze away.
It was as though that speck of jam had cast a spell upon him although, of course, it was not the jam at all that was so captivating but rather the lips on which it had been captured.
Those soft, pillowy lips were slightly parted and pursed, and for some reason, they loomed large in his mind.
There was a whisper of a memory, a feeling that somehow, he knew how they felt.
Color rose to his cheeks, and he sipped his tea as he tried to hide this most unwanted reaction.
It came out of nowhere, and he could not understand where it had emerged from.
He certainly did not know how Lydia’s lips felt, and yet the ghost of them haunted him.
“Of course, we should attend, but I do worry about leaving John. Would it be possible to take him, along with the maids and Georgia?”
“I see no reason why not. In fact, it will probably be a promising idea, for then it will add legitimacy to our family.”
“Indeed,” Lydia said although again there was a guarded quality to her tone.
“Lydia, have I done something wrong?” he asked.
“Do you feel as though you have done something wrong?” she countered.
He stared in her eyes. The way she looked at him implied that he had made a mistake somewhere along the way, but he honestly could not think of what he might have done to offend her.
“No,” he replied honestly.
Lydia clenched her jaw. He watched it shift as she grinded her teeth.
“Then you have your answer,” she said. Victor exhaled deeply. The ways of women would always confound him. Why his brother wanted to throw his heart into that kind of chaos eluded him completely.
“I have made arrangements for a modiste to visit you. I’m sure she will be able to alter a gown for you in time,” Victor said.
Lydia tilted her head to the side.
“I already have suitable gowns.”
“Appearances must be exact, not merely suitable. The gowns you own were made for someone attempting to attract suitors. The gown of a wife must be different from the gown of a debutante.”
Lydia arched an eyebrow. “I did not realize you paid so much attention to gowns,” she said.
“I pay attention to everything that concerns my household.”
“I see, so I assume that you will judge the gowns before I choose one. I would hate to make a choice that offends you,” she said.
There was an added weight to her words, and he wondered if she was alluding to his treatment of Harry.
If she was, he certainly was not going to rise to the bait.
She seemed to be in a surprisingly combative mood, and he was not sure why.
Victor thought that things had improved between them, especially after he had taken a more active role in caring for John. There was no pleasing some people, however, and he feared that Lydia was one of these fastidious people.
Given that he was aware she was testing him and likely did not want him to judge the gowns at all, he decided to call her bluff.
“Actually, that is not a bad idea. Thank you for suggesting it. I shall indeed choose the most appropriate gown. We must put our best foot forward after all.”
“Indeed, we would not want to cause any further scandal.”
“Then might I suggest that you refrain from entering any forbidden parts of the estate. I would hate for you to get into trouble again.”
“Then you should not burst into rooms without knocking, and you might like to keep a closer eye on everything that happens under your roof. For someone who appears so concerned, you missed a baby,” Lydia replied.
Victor cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the table.
She had a rejoinder for everything he said, and it was the most annoying feature of her attitude.
More to the point, she was right. It vexed him how a child could have invaded his home without him knowing.
The ball had taken all of his attention, but if he had been just a little more observant…
Well, it did not matter now. The deed had been done, and the child was not going anywhere.
“Is there anything else you would ask of me to ensure that we make a good impression at the ball?” Lydia asked.
“Nothing comes to mind, but I shall consider the matter and let you know if something arises.”
“Please do. I would hate for anything to affect the ton’s assumptions of us,” Lydia said.
At that moment, there was a rapid knock on the door. Georgia came in, holding a calm and content John.
“I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, Your Graces, but I thought that you might want John now that he’s calmed down. He drank well today, and there was no troubling winding him either. I think he’s getting quite used to it now.”
Lydia opened her arms and welcome John, settling him on her lap.
“One day you will be sitting at this table and eating everything. I wonder what you’ll like,” she said and proceeded to point out everything on the table. Victor watched her, and a strange feeling came over him.
At that moment, it felt as though John was going to remain with them and grow up.
He was sitting on Lydia’s lap, but in time he would sit on a chair by himself, his legs dangling.
As the years passed, his feet would reach the floor, and he would only keep growing, until he became a man himself.
Lydia and Victor would be sitting at the table as well, getting older and perhaps a little wiser.
There was something comforting about the notion, something that anchored Victor to the future.
With this vision the future was not entirely unknown, and so it did not hold as much trepidation.
However, it was not going to happen like that.
He would find the boy’s mother, and everything would be put right.
There was something sad about not seeing John grow up, however, although Victor did not express this of course.
“I’m sure he’ll have a healthy appetite, Your Grace,” Georgia said.
“By the way Georgia, we are going to London in a few days’ time. I would like to take John with us, so we require your presence.”
“London?” Georgia’s eyes shone brightly. “Oh, yes, thank you very much. I shall look forward to that. I’m sure we’ll all have a grand time, especially the young master. I’m sure he’ll like seeing the world go by,” Georgia said.
Victor finished breakfast and bowed as he left the table.
He turned when he reached the door, glancing back at Lydia.
Her attention was entirely focused on John.
Her expression was tender, but there was something about the way she looked that brought about a sense of recognition within him.
There was something in the back of his mind that was familiar.
He itched his cheek and ran his fingers across his lips, frowning and shaking his head, trying to dispel the notion because it seemed ridiculous.
But he could not stop thinking about the angel who had visited him during the night, and he wondered…