Page 6 of The Truth about the Duke
Lydia slowed her steps just a little. “And you are not?”
Her friend chuckled softly. “I am, of course.”
“And your husband still does not mind that you are just as eager to learn and study as he?” Lydia’s heart ached desperately as her friend nodded, seeing the smile on her lips and wishing that she too might have had the same freedoms as Sophie. They had known each other from childhood, for Sophie’s father, the Viscount of Althorpe, was close friends with Lydia’s father, the Earl of Hampshire. They were almost like sisters might be, sharing the same interests and hobbies and, with that, an ever increasing friendship. The only difference was that Sophie’s good parents had been quite contented to have their daughter learn and study but Lydia’s parents had behaved as though Lydia was stricken with some sort of malady. Thus, she had been forced to hide her books, to do what she could to prevent them from discovering just how much of a bluestocking she was… though her education provided her with wisdom, understanding, and a knowledge of present circumstances within the world that could not be hidden away no matter how much she tried.
“Your mother and father still dislike all that you have become?”
Lydia gave her friend a small, sad smile. “You still can read my thoughts, it seems. Yes, in answer to your question.” She closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the wave of sadness tocrash over her. “They have warned me that I am not to speak a word out of turn during my time here in London, though quite how I am to marry a gentleman who does not know the truth about who I am, I cannot imagine.”
Her friend reached to press her hand. “I am sorry. That must be a difficult struggle for you.” The edge of her lip curved upwards. “Though I expect that you do not have any intention of doing what it is that they ask of you.”
Lydia grinned, her sadness quickly evaporating in the light of being in the presence of someone who not only understood her but valued her desire to learn. “You are quite correct there, my friend. No, I have no intention of behaving as they expect me to. I shall upset them should they discover it, but now that I have you by my side, I must hope that I will be able to do as I please as often as I can!”
“So long as your mother permits it?”
Lydia’s smile grew. “As often as I can slip away from her, then yes. And I have every intention of doing so just as often as I can.”
“Wherehave you been?”
Lydia ignored her mother’s sharp remark and lifted her chin just a little. “My dance card is almost full, Mama. Are you not pleased?”
This seemed to take some of the fury from Lady Hampshire’s frame, for her shoulders dropped almost at once and the tight slash that had been her lips softened.
“Should you like to see?” Lydia held out her dance card for her mother to see, noticing how Lady Hampshire’s eyes widened. “Sophie was as good as her word.”
“I can see that.” Lady Hampshire’s voice had quietened now, her eyes still holding a little surprise. “I did not think… well, thatis good. Though I havejustheard that there is a Duke present this evening and I am determined to have you introduced to him.”
Lydia’s shoulders slumped. Sophie had done just as she had promised in introducing Lydia to various gentlemen, though she had been very careful in her selection. The gentlemen that were now listed on Lydia’s dance card were all those who Sophie considered to be both genteel and understanding, given that they might one day learn of Lydia’s love of learning and the like. Her mother, on the other hand, would introduce her to any and every gentleman – the higher the title, the better – rather than have any consideration for the sort of gentleman that her daughter might prefer.
“The Duke of Melrose is his name.” Lady Hampshire leaned a little closer to Lydia, her eyes sharp. “And you will behave with theutmostpropriety, Lydia. Else you will be whispered about by all of thebeau mondeand bring shame to not only yourself but also to your family name.”
Lydia scowled. “I have no intention of bringing shame to anyone, Mama. I simply wish to be myself.”
“And yet, you shall not be permitted to be so.” Lady Hampshire looked all across the room, her hand snaking around Lydia’s arm. “There he is, now. Come, I can see that Lady Newton is speaking with him and since I am acquainted with her, she will be able to introduce us!”
There was no choice but for Lydia to go along with her mother’s intentions, being half pulled through the crowd of guests as Lady Hampshire walked with determination towards the Duke. Lydia managed to make him out, seeing that he stood almost half a head taller than the other gentlemen near him. The closer she came, the more her instincts turned against this fellow. Yes, he might well be a Duke and with the highest title in all of London, but it was clear to her, she considered, that hewas arrogant and superior. The way he let his gaze rove around each and every face near to him, the way his lip curled just a little, his chin lifted – did that not speak of haughtiness and condescension? Yes, he was handsome – as every Duke should be – but his manner alone turned her away from him.
“Oh, is that you, Lady Newton?”
Lydia rolled her eyes at the way her mother spoke, hearing the feigned surprise and the tinkling laugh that followed it. As she did so, her eyes lit upon the Duke of Melrose for just a moment and caught the way he looked at her. His eyebrow was lifted, clearly surprised that she would do such an unladylike thing as toroll her eyeswhen in company.
That only made Lydia want to do so again.
“Lady Hampshire, how wonderful to see you!” Lady Newton bobbed a curtsy and then gestured to the Duke and the gentleman beside him. One who appeared to be a good more amiable given the way he was smiling, a gentleness in his expression. “I was just speaking with the Marquess of Kendall and the Duke of Melrose. Are you acquainted with either of these fine gentlemen?”
“No, I am not. And nor is my daughter.” Lady Hampshire gestured towards Lydia, only for another gentleman to hurry towards them all.
Lydia smiled broadly, inwardly thrilled that she now had an excusenotto be introduced to the arrogant Duke. “Viscount Glenville! Is it our dance already?”
Lord Glenville, a gentleman with a shock of dark hair and a rather youthful face, beamed at her, perhaps delighted at her eagerness. “Yes, Lady Lydia, it is.”
“Oh, but I was just about to – ”
“I cannot have Lord Glenville left waiting, Mama,” Lydia answered, though she kept her voice low so as not to be overheard by the Duke, Lord Kendall, or Lady Newton. “Wemight miss our dance entirely! I shall return to you the moment this dance is at an end, of course.”
She did not wait but stepped away with Lord Glenville at once, silently triumphant. Her mother’s intentions to introduce her to various gentlemen had, for the moment, been foiled and the rest of the evening would be spent in the company of gentlemen who might not view her bluestocking ways with as much dislike and disinclination as her very own mother and father! Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Lydia caught the Duke of Melrose’s heavy frown, perhaps displeased that she had dared to set aside an introduction to him in favor of a Viscount but she did not care in the least. With a smile on her face, she was led towards the dance floor and, as it quickly began, set all thoughts of the Duke of Melrose from her mind.
Chapter Three
