Regency Romance: A Race Against The Lord (A Historical Romance Book) (COMPLETED)

08

Lydia woke to rain pattering on the window and a feeling of heaviness and sorrow. Her head ached, her wrist ached, and it felt as if nothing in the world would ever be all right. She considered what had happened the night before and sighed.

I need to figure out what comes next, and I am very afraid that Nicholas is not going to help me.

The maid came in to help her prepare for the day, but when Lydia saw the dress that she laid out, she frowned.

"Excuse me, but where are my clothes? I don't know where this dress has come from."

The dress in question was a beautiful pale lilac with just a little bit of deep navy trim at the sleeves and at the hem. It was a lovely dress, and it looked like it would fit her well. For one traitorous moment, she wanted to put it on very badly, but she had been wearing black for Benjamin since he died. She was free to come out of mourning, but a part of her held back, unwilling to leave it behind.

"I'm sorry, Lady Lydia, but your clothes had to be taken to be cleaned. His grace, the duke, made sure to provide you with some options. If you do not like this dress, shall I fetch another? There's one that's a soft pink that would look very well with your complexion."

"No, thank you," Lydia said. "I suppose I will have to wear this, then."

It felt strangely freeing to be out of the black. It was as if she had dropped off a heavy mud-laden cloak and was stepping into the world for the first time. The only thing that marred the image were the bruises on her wrist. The maid provided her with a delicate pair of wristlets, soft fabric wraps that buttoned around her wrists and drifted lace almost to her fingertips. They covered the bruise well enough, and Lydia felt she had to be content with that.

She took a black ribbon from her things and twined it around the upper arm of the dress. It wasn't much, but it was better, and with a stone in her belly, she went down to breakfast.

She wasn't sure whether she was relieved or anxious that Nicholas was not there.

"Oh, Nicholas is meeting with some other lords to speak of naval reforms today," Eunice chirped. She spoke as if her grand-nephew was doing nothing more serious than taking the air in his phaeton. "He says it will be quite done, and he'll be joining us for dinner, so that is a treat. And my dear, you look so lovely in lilac! I am so pleased that you came out of mourning!"

"I'm afraid I cannot feel the same way, Eunice. I would not be wearing this at all if my clothes were not being washed. It feels disrespectful to my brother's memory."

She had expected a tactful silence from the woman or perhaps even some murmured consolation, but instead, Eunice pursed her lips and waved her hand.

"One thing that I have learned in this life, my dear, is that mourning is only useful for a short time. You will never forget your brother, no matter what you fear, and indeed that memory will be more vivid than you like sometimes. When you want to leave the grief behind, when you want to be yourself, it is time to do so, and no silly rules should dictate it."

She continued talking about what a good breakfast Cook had prepared, but Lydia sat stunned at her words. That was how she felt. Since coming to London, since meeting Nicholas and now Eunice, she felt more like herself than she had in a great while.

She started eating her breakfast, and with some surprise, she realized that the eggs tasted better than she could remember them tasting in a very long time.

* * *

The day passed a bit of a haze. Lydia considered slipping out to track down the address she had found on the card and the elusive Marilee, but she remembered Nicholas' cold fury. She didn't think he would make good on his threat to have her locked in the gaol, but she didn't feel like risking it.