Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Overall, Lydia had been away from London for a month.
The journey had taken three weeks, and she had been in Florence for a week.
The city was beautiful with a distinct architectural style that was far more colorful and playful than the grim buildings of London.
The people seemed cheerier too, eager to offer a ‘Ciao’ and a smile.
And the sun, ah, the sun. It warmed the sky, bringing a golden light with every day that unfolded. The shadows were long and cool, and cats could often be seen slinking across the narrow streets, either basking in the sun or sheltering in the shadows.
“Grazie,” Lydia said as she received a bag of chewy sweets. She had never tasted anything like them before. They burst with fruity flavor that swam over her tongue. There was so much joy to be found in Florence that there was little to miss about London.
And yet Lydia still found herself prone to melancholy.
She felt ungrateful, for Rose and Edmund had made significant efforts to bring her joy.
Lydia had made a concerted effort as well.
She spoke to the other guests in the hotel, attended celebratory dances with Rose and Edmund, and spent every day outside, exploring the nooks and crannies of this great city.
But there was a chasm in her heart that could not be filled by anything other than sorrow.
Even with so much distance between her and England, she still saw reminders of her sadness everywhere she looked.
There were women nursing babies. The cries were at a slightly different pitch to John’s, but they still made her heart quiver.
A sense of panic rose in her, and she still possessed the instinct to run to comfort her child, but of course, John was not there.
John was not hers.
As well as this, she saw tall, dark-haired men out of the corner of her eye or with their back to her. Even though it was impossible for Victor to be here, there were moments when her heart was seized with a mixture of apprehension and excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.
She thought of Theodore’s words and wondered if she should have reached out to Victor one final time before she left but then shook her head. Surely, it would have only brought her more sorrow. One rejection was enough. She did not need to repeat it over and over again.
Lydia passed small shops and open windows, feeling ashamed of herself that she could not enjoy the city fully. Perhaps she would never be able to enjoy anything fully again. The scenery might change around her, but her feelings would not.
That evening, she decided to remain in her room.
She, Edmund, and Rose were staying in a small inn that was frequented by travelers.
There was always a great commotion as people stomped through the halls and shared jokes with each other.
Laughter rippled through walls, and sometimes it felt as though they were all in the room with her.
There was usually live music in the evenings, as though these people could find something to celebrate every day.
There was a knock at the door. Lydia assumed that it was Edmund or Rose, trying to coax her out of the room. She sighed, ready to roll her eyes and dismiss them, but upon opening the door, her heart shook as she was faced with the impossible.
Victor.
His face was drawn, his clothes dusted with the travails of travel, but it was him in the flesh. There was no mistaking it, not even if she rubbed her eyes or pinched herself.
“Victor,” she whispered.
“Lydia,” he replied. The word thrummed in the air, as though it was a living thing. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was and how it made her knees quake. Her hair was loose. She clutched a few locks and tugged at them.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came for you.”
“Why?”
The words were breathless as they leaped from her lips. The air seemed to fizz, and her chest was tight. It didn’t seem real, and yet it was. Footsteps were heard behind him. Victor looked over his shoulder and frowned.
“May I come in? I would prefer we speak in private.”
Lydia stepped aside and closed the door behind him. He came into the room, seeming to fill it entirely. The ceiling was a little too low for him, so he had to bend his head slightly.
“Victor, why are you here?”
“For you,” he said simply. He gave a weary sigh and sank to the bed.
He put his head in his hands and leaned forward.
“On the voyage, I thought about what I would say when I saw you again although now none of the words seem right. All I can say is that I crossed the sea for you, and yet you would not know the meaning of that because how could you? I barely shared anything with you, much to my detriment.”
“What does it mean?” Lydia asked.
“When I was younger, I almost drowned. My father saved me, but ever since then I have been terrified of the water and too proud to speak about it openly. But when I learned you were here, I faced my fear because… well… there were greater things that terrified me.”
“Such as?” Lydia asked.
Victor turned his gaze towards her.
“A life without you,” he said. He shook his head. “I am tired of holding back my feelings, Lydia. All my life I have kept them locked inside because I thought it was proper, but where has it gotten me? You are like a stranger to me, and that is not how I want to live.”
He rose but failed to take into account the low ceiling and bumped his head. He glared at the ceiling, but this did not interrupt the flow of his words.
“I cannot escape your absence. I feel it every day. When I am in the house, I still listen for you, but you are not there, and it is entirely intolerable. My life changed when I met you, and I find that I do not wish to undo those changes. I know you were only enduring the situation for John’s sake, but—”
“Is that what you think?”
“Is that not the truth? After all, you stepped away from me when I thought we were getting close. That day when Juliet came to the house, I comforted you, and you stepped away.”
The shock faded from Lydia’s heart as anguish rose instead. She arched her eyebrows and took a pace towards him.
“I stepped away because you made it clear that this was only an obligation to you! You didn’t even say farewell to John! As soon as he was with his real parents, you didn’t care at all.”
Victor bowed his head. “We were his real parents for a time. Lydia… I could not say farewell because I could not bear it. I never imagined that I could love something as much as I loved him. I know I was reluctant at first, but you showed me how to be a father, and while I am pleased for Harry, I could not escape the bitterness in my heart. I had to detach myself from my feelings. It was the only way I could bear it. It is what I have always done, and I see now how it has been to my detriment. I am trying to be better.”
Lydia stared at him.
Was it possible that all this time they had been feeling the same thing but had expressed it in different ways?
When she thought he had been aloof, he had been suffering. When she thought he had been distant, he had been protecting himself.
“But… but… what about the kiss?” she asked.
Victor tilted his head and gave her a questioning look.
“The kiss? What kiss?”
“Our kiss!” she said, throwing her hands in the air.
“We have never kissed,” Victor replied.
“Yes, we did. I came into John’s room. You had been watching over him and had fallen asleep in the chair.
I was placing a blanket over you, and then you woke suddenly.
You caressed my cheek, and then we kissed.
But you never mentioned it afterwards.” Lydia bowed her head, feeling the shame of being rebuffed again.
“I have no recollection of that. I’m sorry.
I must not have been fully awake. I did…
I did have vague memories of a dream, but I thought it was just that.
I did not realize we…” He trailed away and looked at her lips.
His eyes shone with desire, and she could feel the layers of her heart being peeled away, yet she was not sure she was brave enough to fully embrace them.
However, the fact that he had come all this way to see her had not escaped her attention.
“Victor… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I miss you, that I don’t want to lose you.
I’m saying… I’m saying that I love you, Lydia.
This has never been easy for me, and I’m not sure it ever will be, but I have seen what my life can be like with you and what it is without you.
I do not want to endure the latter and if there is any lingering affection in your heart, then I ask that you listen to it because I do not wish to be alone anymore. I want you to be my wife.”
“I am your wife,” she said.
Victor scowled and shook his head. “You were my wife because the situation demanded it. I want you to be my wife because you enrich my life, because my heart demands it, and I hope yours does too. Tell my Lydia… tell me what your heart desires.” His voice was low and rasping.
There was desperation in his eyes, and this was surprising for a man who was usually so composed and unflappable.
His words washed over Lydia, and she found herself quite unbalanced.
She blinked frantically while her heart thumped against her chest, feeling as though it was going to burst out.
Somehow, they were standing close to each other, she wasn’t quite sure how.
His fingers twitched and reached up although they did not touch her.
“I…”
He didn’t wait for her to say anything else.
He couldn’t wait.