Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Preparations had been made to leave for Brighton.
The butlers had been busy packing trunks and lashing them to the tops of carriages.
For Lydia, everything passed by in a blur.
It felt so surreal, just as it had been when all of these changes had come into her life like a tornado.
To go back to what she had lost did not seem appealing to her, and she had to put on a brave face in order to make it through the day.
Lydia stood outside the nursery for far longer than she should have, breathing deeply before she entered.
A dagger of ice pierced her heart as she looked on to see Juliet sitting in a chair, cradling John.
It was a position that Lydia had enjoyed so many times, and it seemed wrong to look at Juliet inhabiting the same space, holding John as she once had.
“Good morning, Lydia,” Juliet said, greeting Lydia with a smile. Lydia forced a reflection of one upon her face.
“Good morning, Juliet, John,” Lydia said. Her voice hitched with emotion when she spoke John’s name. She hoped she had been able to mask it.
“I must admit I was worried that he would treat me like a stranger, but thankfully, he has taken to me quite naturally. Why, I do believe that I can make a success of being a mother after all.”
“I have no doubt. He is yours, and you are his. It’s as it should be,” Lydia said.
The conflagration of emotion she felt was difficult to comprehend.
She was both happy that Juliet and John were together and uneasy because it meant something profoundly special had been taken away from her.
If only there had been two children, one for each of them… but there was only one John.
He could only have one mother.
“Thank you so much for all you have done. If you hadn’t been so adamant to find me, then I might never have known this joy.
I owe you everything, Lydia, and you can be sure that I will never, ever forget it.
If ever you are in need of something, please don’t hesitate to ask.
I will do everything in my power to make it happen. ”
“I appreciate that, but you really don’t need—”
“I do,” Juliet said. There was a sternness in her eyes.
“Without you, this could never have happened. I would have lived a wretched life, always searching for happiness but never finding it because nothing would ever be able to fill the hole in my heart. Because of you, I no longer have to face that sorrow, and I thank you for it. I called you an angel when we met, and everything you do only confirms that impression.”
While Juliet spoke of how she had escaped this wretched existence, it did not escape Lydia that this exact fate was going to be hers although, of course, she did not say such a thing to Juliet. There was no sense making Juliet feel guilty for doing what came naturally to her.
“While I am grateful for the kind words, I only did the right thing.”
“Many people would not have gone so far. I shall try to live as you do and exhibit the same qualities. I shall endeavor to teach John to be like you as well.”
“I’m glad that some of my influence shall live on,” Lydia replied although it was a sad thing that she would not be there to teach him herself.
“Are you keen to begin a new life with Lord Harry? I must admit, I thought he spoke rashly when he mentioned leaving London. You do have a career after all.”
“I do, but I have taken a break before, and it will be no hardship to do so again. I felt a calling to the stage but an even greater calling to be a mother. And, hopefully, instead of fading from the public consciousness, my notoriety shall increase until they are positively begging for my return. I have shared so much with so many people, but now, it is time for me to have something of my own,” Juliet said, tilting her head to look down at John with an adoring gaze.
Lydia’s gaze fell to the boy as well, to his soft cheeks and puckered lips, to the wide eyes that were so often hooded, to the wispy hair on his scalp that was darkening and thickening a little more with every passing day. There was so much about him to love and far more to miss.
“And what are your plans? Harry told me about the peculiar… arrangement… between you and the Duke. It must be a relief to have all that ended.”
“Yes… yes, it is. We just need to arrange the particulars, and everything shall be settled. Although, I fear this may follow me around somewhat. The ton is unlikely to forget that I was married, even for a fleeting time.”
“Damn the ton,” Juliet said with a mischievous smile.
Lydia shared the same gesture, but each time she gave a false smile it became harder to maintain.
“Lydia, even though we have known each other only an abbreviated time, we have been through a lot, and you know me far better than most. I consider you a friend, and since I have been honest with you, I hope that you can be honest with me.”
“I have been,” Lydia said, fluttering her eyelashes in a flustered expression.
Juliet gave her a knowing smile.
“Lydia, I have been an actress for many years. I know when someone is hiding something. Are you perhaps not as relieved as you thought you would be?”
Lydia sighed. “I suppose I had just gotten used to my new surroundings, my new routine, and now, everything is being dismantled again. And of course, I shall miss John.”
“Of course,” Juliet said. “And Victor?”
Emotions caught in Lydia’s throat. She remembered why she had come in here in the first place. Avoiding Juliet’s question, she walked across the room and handed her a note.
“I made you a list of John’s routine, the way he behaves, and other such information. I’m sure that you will adjust quickly, and he will reveal all of his preferences to you, but this might make the transition a little easier.”
“Thank you,” Juliet said, her gaze lingering on Lydia, showing that she realized that Lydia did not answer her question.
To her credit, she did not press, and this showed Lydia that they were indeed devoted friends.
“I must confess that part of me would like to stay in London with you as you have taken such good care of John. I feel as though I shall be inadequate compared to you,” she confessed.
Lydia bowed her head. She hadn’t thought about it like that. All this time she feared that she would be replaced by Juliet. She had never thought that Juliet might fear the shadow cast by Lydia would have been inescapable.
“You are his mother. You will do wonderfully,” Lydia said. “Might I say farewell?”
“Of course,” Juliet said. Lydia slipped her arms beneath John’s body and lifted him, feeling his weight for perhaps the last time.
A deep ache prevailed in her chest as she looked into his eyes.
She bent down and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, closing her eyes for a moment to breathe in this joy, this connection, this beauty that was so rare and so special.
“Be good, John,” she whispered, fearing that if she said too much more, she would collapse in a puddle of emotion.
“Please come and visit whenever you get the chance. I shall write to you and forward our address. You shall always be welcome,” Juliet said.
Lydia thanked her and then left the room.
She wasn’t sure she would ever take Juliet up on that offer, for it might be too painful to see the boy grow up, knowing that he would never remember those early days of his life.
In his eyes, he would only ever have one mother.
Lydia would just be someone who cared for him for a while, and that would be all.
Later on, it came time for Lydia and Victor to leave. Lydia hugged John again, and this time it was difficult to part from him. However, she handed him back and managed to retain her equilibrium although for how long this would last, she did not know.
Victor, for his part, remained distant and aloof.
There was a stoic expression on his face that did not break, as though it had been captured by a painter’s brush and would remain forever the same.
He shook his brother’s hand and wished them well.
However, he did not hold John. He barely looked at the boy.
Lydia’s heart sank. She thought his feelings had been genuine, but perhaps she had been mistaken all this time.
Victor’s affection was only forged by duty, and as soon as that duty became Lord Harry’s, Victor’s affection disappeared.
It was likely the same with her. Any stirrings he felt were no longer needed.
It simply wasn’t practical to allow romance to enter their realm when their marriage was soon to be annulled.
While they sat in the carriage, Lydia stared at Victor, hoping that he might say something, anything to give an insight into his state of mind.
Was he hurting like she was? Was his heart torn to shreds?
No… the man was made of ice. He could make himself as invulnerable as a mountain. There was no emotion there, no regret. He simply stared out of the window as if this was a routine trip.
Lydia turned away from him and leaned her head down. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily, and soon, she was asleep.
The house felt more alien to Lydia now than it had when she’d first arrived.
Her ears pricked up, hearing what she thought were John’s cries, but it was just a phantom of her mind.
Victor gave the order for everything to be taken away from the nursery.
The room would be laid bare, all trace of John extinguished as though he had never been a part of their lives at all.
Victor left for his study soon after they returned and remained there for some time.
Lydia did not seek his company. Clearly, he was going to treat her as a stranger now which was really all they were.
They made a mockery of the terms ‘husband,’ ‘wife,’ and ‘marriage.’ It was all a sham, and these ideals which Lydia had always held in such high esteem were strewn in tatters at her feet.
The day dragged interminably for Lydia. She tried to busy herself with all sorts of things but could take joy in nothing, not even her cherished habit of reading.
There was a sick feeling clawing inside, and she did not believe there was anything she could do to rid herself of it.
And all through the day, she could feel the tension pulsing in the air, this hostility of being unwanted, knowing that as soon as it was possible, Victor would turn her out.
If she hoped that things might be different at dinner, this notion was quickly dispelled.
Victor did attend dinner, but he was taciturn and silent.
No words were spoken, not even to give an air of civility.
Cutlery scraped against plates, and the sounds of mastication filled the air.
She waited and waited for him to say something, anything, but silence reigned.
In the end, she took matters into her own hands. She was not going to sit there and wait for the executioner to swing his sword. She placed her cutlery on the plate and regarded Victor with a cool look.
“I think it best if I return to London tomorrow. I will have the servants pack my things in preparation. There is no sense in delaying our parting, and I do wish to be close to my family again. With the truth settled, matters in the ton should correct themselves. There is no longer any reason for us to remain married.”
As she said this, there was still a yearning part of her heart that longed to hear him dispute with her. She wanted him to argue, to push aside everything on the dinner table and take her hands, look into her eyes, and tell her that she was wrong.
But he didn’t.
“I shall take care of everything,” he said in a droll, dreary voice. Then, he rose from the table and left the room. He did not see Lydia’s tears spill from her eyes. Her reputation might have been ruined by the ton, but her heart had been destroyed by Victor.
All dreams of love would be abandoned.
There was nothing left for her. She had been stripped bare. Her heart had been torn in two with half going with John and half remaining here in Brighton.