Raven McAllan - The Lord’s Persuasion of Lady Lydia

‘As you know, Edward,’ Harry drawled, every inch the rake, ‘Lady Lydia and I are acquainted and I knew your wife before you did. As a distant relative, you understand, no more, so do not think to try and plant a facer on me for it. You’d miss anyway. Your guard is suspect.’

Edward laughed. ‘Don’t rub it in.’ He turned to Lydia and Esther, as Harry bowed to them both and kissed both of their hands.

Lydia bit back a moan, as he winked and nipped the soft flesh of her wrist with his teeth. What on earth was he doing?

‘I thought I was fit until just now when this bounder worsted me in Jackson’s salon,’ Edward said plaintively. ‘Show me I’m your hero, my love.’

‘For what? Hitting someone for no reason? Not a chance. Urgh, boxing, nasty thing,’ Esther replied and punched her husband in the ribs. ‘How can fighting someone be called a sport? I cannot understand it, can you, Lydia?’ she appealed to her friend as Edward said laughingly, ‘Well, what was that?’

Esther rolled her eyes. ‘A loving tap.’

Edward snorted. ‘I never want an unloving one, then.’

Lydia smiled at her friend. ‘I suppose they need somewhere to let off steam. After all, this is London with all its petty restraints. No galloping, no hunting, shooting, or fishing. They have to relieve their tension…’ She realised how her comment could be construed. ‘Ah, their frust… oh lord, excess energy.’ She forgot who accompanied them and rolled her eyes. ‘Esther, for goodness’ sake, stop laughing.’

It was no good. As Esther giggled and the men chuckled, Lydia reddened and let her amusement show. ‘Good grief, do not tell my mama about this. She would disown me for sure.’

‘Is that not what you want?’ Esther asked shrewdly. ‘In some form or another.’

‘Maybe, but not like this.’

‘My lady, shall we leave these two reprobates to their own devices and take a turn around the lake?’ Harry, whom Lydia noticed had been listening to the interchange with avid interest, asked smoothly.

It was on the tip of her tongue to query why, when Esther intervened.

‘Let’s all go. That way we are observing protocol and not upsetting the tabbies. After all, as friends of you both and an old, established couple, Edward and I are ideal as chaperones.’

‘My dear Esther. I am old enough not to need one,’ Harry said suavely.

‘You might be, but whatever Lydia thinks, she is not.’ Esther said. ‘Not here. We must observe propriety on her behalf. Lead on.’

Lydia rolled her eyes and resisted the temptation to poke Esther in the side and remind her she could hear every word. ‘I’m here, you know; you don’t have to talk about me in the abstract.’ Sometimes people could be so annoying. For that matter, so could the petty rules and regulations of the ton.

Edward laughed. ‘When my lady wife is in this mood I always do as she says.’

‘You do whatever mood I’m in,’ Esther said cheerfully. ‘I love you.’

‘And I you, my sweetness, but we are shocking Harry.’

‘Not me,’ Harry said with a grin. ‘I’m unshockable. Lady Lydia perhaps?’

Lydia shook her head. ‘Oh no, I’m used to them billing and cooing.’

‘Then let’s leave them to follow us like good little chaperones and they can bill and coo and we will converse like sensible people.’ Harry held out his arm for Lydia.

Why can’t we bill and coo a little? Had she really thought that? Lydia took Harry’s proffered arm, and waited for him to indicate which way around the lake they should walk.

It was inevitable, of course, that they saw so many people they knew who would chat about this spectacle of Harry Birnham with Lydia Field again.

‘Why are you doing this?’ Lydia asked him sotto voce so Edward and Esther wouldn’t overhear. Her soft sandals scuffed a few fallen leaves at the edge of the pathway as they walked, and she wondered what the ton would say if she kicked them up in the air as she’d done as a child in the country. ‘It will cause talk and my mama to crow, as well as raising false hope in her that you will somehow persuade me not to leave in a couple of weeks.’ To stop her even half thinking about causing a scandal, she steered Harry towards the middle of the path. ‘You are a rake, and I am not the type of person a rake consorts with.’

‘You intrigue me,’ Harry said. ‘And believe me, I am interested in you. And I’m hoping with your mama.’

‘Eh?’ Lydia was confused. The man was like a terrier with a rat, but half of the time he’d made her lose the thread of their conversations. She stopped walking and he obediently turned to look at her. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I hope I can persuade you not to leave,’ Harry said blandly. ‘This is one way.’

‘But why?’ She was bewildered. ‘There is nothing about me to interest you.’ Unless her persona of biddable had worked so well that he thought she was the sort of person to make a quiet, unassuming, undemanding wife. That thought made her feel sick. She didn’t want to marry at all, did she? And if, if , she ever entertained the idea, that type of partnership would not be it. ‘It is not nice to dally with no intentions of anything,’ Lydia added reproachfully.

He tapped her nose with his forefinger. ‘Oh, I have a lot of intentions,’ he assured her. ‘I just chose not to share them all yet. Now smile, for I see your swain approaching.’

‘My what?’ she asked as Esther and Edward caught up with them. ‘I have no swain, nor do I want one.’

Esther groaned. ‘Harry, if I stay here now, you owe me a favour at some point. I swear your heir is one of the most aggravating and annoying people I know, and I make no apologies for saying so. Why is he such a pathetic, whining man?’

Lydia started. His heir? Jeremy Mumford, the pitiful, long specimen dressed as a dandy, was Harry’s heir? It seemed hardly likely they could be related. They appeared as alike as chalk and cheese.

Hold on, why am I now thinking of him as Harry ? However, once that name had fixed in her mind, it was nigh on impossible to revert to formality in her thoughts.

She watched Jeremy as he stood in front of Harry and glowered. ‘What are you doing?’ he demanded of his elder. ‘Why are you with her?’

Lydia opened her mouth to tell the newcomer just what she thought of his attitude, but Harry luckily forestalled her.

‘ She has a name,’ Harry said quietly. ‘You are making a fool of yourself, you know. Lady Lydia is not your responsibility.’

‘And she’s yours?’ Jeremy asked rudely. ‘I don’t think so.’

Lydia gasped and Esther coughed dramatically. Jeremy ignored them both.

‘Manners.’ Harry narrowed his eyes and Jeremy looked a little discomforted. ‘I know so,’ Harry continued implacably. ‘Now, unless you intend to be polite and greet us like a proper human being, I suggest you leave.’ Harry paused. ‘Now.’

‘Oh, all right – good afternoon, everyone.’ Jeremy looked at Lydia with a curious expression. Calculating, considering, almost evil; it made her shudder in trepidation. Therefore she ignored him. It was obvious he was not to be encouraged in any way, and his presence cast a cloud over them. Beside her, Harry shook with silent mirth. Lydia wanted to slap him. Jeremy was an annoyance, and Harry was fast joining him.

After a few seconds, Jeremy scowled. ‘I will bid you all a good day.’ He turned on his heels.

‘If looks could kill we would be choosing the hymns for your funeral,’ Edward remarked. ‘You really need to do something about him, Harry. He’s more than an idiot; there is a darker aspect to his make-up that is coming to the fore.’