Raven McAllan - The Lord’s Persuasion of Lady Lydia

Once he retrieved his hat and cane, he ambled along St James’s and dropped into his club, saw no one he wanted to spend time with, and eventually strolled home.

As the watch called four outside his window, Harry punched his pillow and turned out the lamp. Was he ready to be subjected to the sort of interference pushy mamas could try to inflict? He was an old hand at ignoring or distracting them, and much too wily to be entrapped by any schemes thought up, but even so, it could become wearing if he had to always be alert and aware of anything of that kind all the time.

Nevertheless, he intended to get to know Lydia Field better.

Much better.

Even that thought hardened his cock and made his muscles clench so tightly he had to force himself to relax. Some of his firmly entrenched rules had, he decided, just melted away. He couldn’t carry on like that. After all, if Lydia was ready for a little intimacy, with no strings, who was he to deny her? Better him than anyone else.

And if she wasn’t, he thought uneasily, what then? Harry made a conscious decision. If he was to get any peace he needed to quench his desire for her, and to that end seduction might be necessary.

Bed her and not wed her. That was what rakes did; he might as well live up to his reputation for once.

Chapter Three

Lydia surreptitiously looked at the clock on the wall of the milliner’s and did her best not to show her boredom. Why on earth did either she or her mama need yet more bonnets? It seemed her parents were deliberately ignoring the fact that her twenty-sixth birthday was but a few weeks away, and then elegant headwear would be among the last things she bothered about. Either that or her mother was determined to cram as much into these days as possible, to show Lydia what she would be missing if she kept to her plan. Did she hope it would change her daughter’s mind? Why didn’t she realise it was more likely to do the opposite?

Not for the first time, Lydia wondered if somehow she had been swapped with another child at a young age, or just been brought up by her mama and papa on behalf of someone else. She certainly didn’t seem to have anything in common with them.

‘Lydia, are you deaf? I asked if you prefer the blue or the lilac silk on this bonnet,’ her mama said snappily. ‘Please pay attention. It is important and Madame Lois has other clients to attend to after us, you know.’

Madame Lois smiled graciously. ‘You are my priority, Madame, you know that.’

Lydia mentally rolled her eyes as the Countess preened. ‘Even so. Lydia?’

Thus addressed, Lydia searched her mind how to give a tactful response. ‘Mama, I don’t much like either or really care,’ she said as patiently as she could, ignoring the milliner’s shocked, indrawn breath. The bonnet in question she thought neither flattering nor appropriate for any occasion she could imagine her mama attending. ‘If you must have it choose that pale green; it is much more flattering for your skin tones.’ She didn’t say any more, but even so her mama bristled.

‘Are you saying there is something wrong with my skin?’ she demanded acerbically. ‘That I am old?’

Lydia sighed. She should have kept her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself, and told her mama to choose whichever she preferred. Tact was not her best suit. ‘Not at all. I just don’t think you really suit blue or lilac. You do, however, suit green, especially that soft shade,’ she added diplomatically.

‘Lydia, please pay attention,’ her mama snapped.

So much for diplomacy.

‘It’s not for me, it’s for you.’ her mama said crisply. ‘So what do you think?’

Never. ‘No, I thank you, but it is not necessary, Mama, truly it’s not.’

‘No?’ You would have thought she’d refused three diamond bracelets and a tiara by the disappointment her mama displayed.

‘No, Mama, I neither want nor need a new bonnet.’ Lydia said patiently. Especially one like that. Why on earth does she think I would suit it? The bonnet in question was so large it would look as if it had been fashioned to hide her face from everyone and everything. Plus the brim seemed as if it was designed purely to hold enough flowers to stock a garden. ‘I have so many of Madame’s beautiful creations, I feel to have more would be greedy.’ There, surely that would pacify both women?

‘ But what about the Gidleighs’ afternoon tea?’ her mama said mournfully, as Madame Lois, with an acerbic smile, curtsied her thanks, then went out of the room to look for more trimmings. ‘Surely you will want to look your best? Amelia told me that several gentlemen have been invited so it will not be all women chatting about their selves and their conquests.’ She made it sound like a happy surprise or a big treat. To Lydia it was neither.

‘I know,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘Josephine told me.’ Josephine Gidleigh, the daughter of the house, was a pretty young lady with an infectious giggle and a ready smile for everyone. ‘She hoped her mama had invited Lord Birnham as she has decided she has a tendre for him.’ And she would be much more suitable for him than I would. ‘She wonders if it is reciprocated, just a little.’

Her mother looked at her closely. ‘I think not, he is so sought after. I had hoped you…’

Lydia laughed. Little did her mother know. ‘Not a chance, he is not interested in me.’ Should she cross her fingers? It was so difficult. He appealed to her but… and it was a very large but. Something she needed to think through at a later date. ‘However, it is immaterial. The tea is over three weeks away and I won’t be here,’ Lydia pointed out. ‘You know that, Mama. It will be after my birthday, and I will be in Devon.’

Her mama put the bonnet down and sighed. ‘Are you really sure about this course of action, my dear?’ Do you not want to… well, at least delay until the end of the season. After all, there are a lot of gentlemen who are actively looking…’

‘Mama, later,’ Lydia glanced meaningfully towards Madame Lois who had returned and was doing her best not to look as if she was listening and enthralled by what she heard. ‘We can talk later, once you have purchased your bonnet.’

Her mama blinked and coloured. ‘Ah, yes. Perhaps I’ll have the green ribbons, on the other bonnet?’

‘A good idea,’ Lydia said and stood to one side while the Countess and the milliner completed their business. Within half an hour they were back in their barouche and making their way to the park where, as her parent put it, they could pull up and watch the promenading that went on, while chatting with any friends and acquaintances who chanced by. Most of the ton would appear at some point during the favoured time to see and be seen.

Lydia sat back in her seat and prepared to be bored. The Countess leaned forward and her eyes sparkled as she arranged her skirts to her satisfaction.

‘Is that Lord Mackieson over there?’ she asked. ‘With Miss Johnson. Lord, her dress does not show her in a favourable light. Whoever told her that shade of puce was becoming to her?’

‘Puce isn’t becoming to anyone.’ Lydia decided she best add a comment while she could and thus make her mama think she was really listening, rather than catching the odd phrase or two. With regards to the horrendous colour of puce, she could reply emphatically. It really was not a flattering hue.

‘Oh, and Lady Dearborne is with Lady Linton under the trees,’ her mama continued. Lydia nodded and hoped it was the correct response.

‘I had thought they were no longer speaking after Lord Dearborne was purported to have spent no less than a half of one hour talking to Louisa Linton. That woman is a veritable man eater. I can tell you Jane Dearborne was not best pleased. Oh, and look, there’s…’ Lydia gave in to temptation and let her mother’s voice wash over her. She knew her mama didn’t really expect an answer. To her it was all exciting and part of her daily routine. To Lydia it was dull and a trial. Who cared what Lady D thought and said to Lady L? Who was interested in how Lord Whoever approached Lady Someone Else? As for Lady D and Lady L, they were as bad as each other. Everyone knew they both bed-hopped as they pleased and their husbands chose to turn a blind eye. Probably because they were doing the same thing themselves. It would never do for Lydia. Nevertheless, she continued to nod every so often to appease her mama.