Page 20 of The Truth about the Duke
“You need not worry in that regard,” her friend assured her again. “Come now, sit down and tell me what your thoughts are.”
Feeling a little fatigued now, Lydia did as she was bade and went to sit beside her friend, only for a cup of tea to be pushed into her hands. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes and tried to regain a hold of her thoughts.
“When I saw the Duke’s reaction to my article, I was utterly overcome with confusion and fright,” she began, remembering how the Duke had stormed up and down the library, flinging his arms up as he spoke. “Not for one moment did I ever think that he was unaware of this story!”
“Where did you find it?”
“In the library,” Lydia admitted. “There is a section where papers, old bets and, to be truthful, nothing but gossip from years past is still kept securely. I am not one for gossip and rumour but I did think that such a story might be interesting enough for the article. It did not have scandal and shame attached to it, for such a thing would never do!”
“Indeed not.” Sophie took a sip of her tea and then set the cup down. “I must say, I personally thought that the article waswritten very well indeed. I did not know anything of what you wrote.”
Lydia smiled ruefully. “I thank you.”
“And are you going to continue writing?”
Closing her eyes, Lydia considered for a few moments. “I had thought to,beforethe Duke reacted as he did. I was wondering if I could find any history from St Albans, for there are many distinguished families from that area which is why I was in the library last evening in the first place! It was very well stocked and I could not help myself, especially when I had been able to escape from my mother’s watchful eye for a time!”
“Indeed.” Sophie chuckled gently. “I would have expected nothing less from you. Though,” she continued, her smile fading, “if I might be able to offer you some advice, might I suggest that it is imperative that you continue to write?”
Blinking in surprise, Lydia frowned. “Imperative?”
“Else the Duke might think that you chosen him for a purpose,” her friend replied. “He might believe that the article was written solely for that story about the missing heirlooms, that it was written by the very person who took them – or lost them – or some such thing, to injure him.”
A gasp caught in Lydia’s throat as she saw what her friend meant. “You are quite right. I cannot do such a thing as that!”
“No, you cannot.”
“Then I must write,” Lydia agreed, nodding to herself as she reached for her tea again. “My study must continue.”
“Yes, it must.” Sophie reached out and pressed Lydia’s hand. “And you must not fear the Duke of Melrose. He will not discover your name.”
Lydia nodded slowly, though her heart ached as she recalled just how troubled the Duke had appeared when he had been in the library. There had been frustration, upset, anger, and sorrow in him - she had seen all of them in his expression, hismanner, and his voice. Did she not owe him the truth of how she had found that article in the first place? It had been an honest mistake on her part, yes, but that did not mean that she could not seek to make amends in some way.
Could I do it without revealing that I am the one who wrote the article?
Frowning, she set her tea cup down and rubbed between her eyebrows, thinking hard. The Duke already knew that she was a bluestocking, given that she had told him directly, so could she not simply state that she had found the story during her reading and study? That it had simply been an accidental find? Biting her lip, Lydia let out a breath of frustration, uncertain as to whether or not the Duke would believe her.
But I feel as though I must do something,she thought to herself, fully aware of her friend’s scrutinizing expression though Lydia herself remained silent, choosing not to share her thoughts with Sophie.Even if it is to relieve my own upset.
“Are you going to tell me what you are thinking?”
Lydia smiled briefly at her Sophie, then shook her head. “Not as yet. But I think I shall take your advice and continue with my next article.” So saying, she gestured to the door. “Might you wish to take a turn through London with me? My mother knows that I am here with you and she will not know if we were to step out.”
“Step out to one of the bookshops or libraries, mayhap?” Sophie chuckled as Lydia nodded. “I should be glad to. Was it St Albans you were looking at?”
In answer to her friend’s question, Lydia rose to her feet. “Indeed.”
“Then I shall be glad to aid you in your search for information so you might write your next article.” Coming to stand beside Lydia, Sophie embraced her tightly for a moment.“Set your concern aside. The matter with the Duke is over and done with already!”
Keeping her smile fixed, Lydia nodded though her thoughts went in an entirely different direction.
And yet, I feel as though matters with the Duke have only just begun.
“There now. Is that not better?”
Lydia chuckled as she looked around what was one of the largest bookshops in all of London. Hatchards, with its many floors and a plethora of all manner of books and more, made her heart squeeze with delight. She had been here many times before and it never failed to take her breath away when she stepped inside. Sophie felt the same, she knew, and that had clearly been her sole reason for bringing her here. “We can hide away here for many an hour, I am sure.”
“Indeed we can! Though your mother will require you home soon enough, will she not?”
