Raven McAllan - The Lord’s Persuasion of Lady Lydia

Four days later, after very properly greeting his hostess, exchanging quips and indulging her with the sort of light flirtation she expected, Harry scanned the ballroom of the Earl and Countess of Leominster’s town mansion as he searched for one specific female.

‘Harry, are you on the prowl?’ Diana Leominster asked him teasingly. ‘You have the look, you know. Do I need to do the nicety and introduce you to anyone?’

‘When am I ever not?’ Harry laughed and shook his head. He’d best beware – the last thing he wanted was for the ladies to notice his intentions. ‘The day I need to be introduced is the day I hand over my rake’s title and retire to the country to breed pheasants. No, no prowling today, I’m just looking around.’

‘For your next conquest?’ Diana asked shrewdly. ‘Surely that’s no hardship. I could name at least a dozen women who would willingly grace your bed at the crook of your little finger in their direction.’

‘Ah, but there is the rub, Diana,’ Harry said mockingly. ‘Such willingness is not to my taste. I’m no longer of an age where I want a bed-hopping lady, who warms my sheets for one night and happily moves on. Nor do I eventually, when it is time, a long time hence, want a wife who does the same. I’ve become more discerning in my old age.’

‘Lady Mostyn?’

He shrugged. ‘She wanted more than I could or would give. I made my intentions clear, and she indicated she was of a like mind. Utter rubbish, it transpired. Why, my dear, do you ladies choose to forget the rules? Agree to something not meaning it, and then get upset when the gentleman in question, in this case me, reminds you of them and has no intentions of changing them. Therefore, no longstanding intentions or attachments. I have had enough of such playacting. I want disinterest and, well, you understand…’

Diana opened her eyes wide in disbelief. And so she should, he thought wryly. Not only was he contradicting himself, but it was diametrically opposite to the persona he did his best to project to his peers. That it was all an act he hoped no one realised. Harry had never been interested in casual liaisons. His few mistresses and lovers had been long-term, with like and mutual respect on both sides. He’d never set anyone up in a house, or given them silly, expensive knick-knacks, and had always treated them with courtesy and politeness. Any gifts were thoughtfully and carefully chosen for the woman concerned and would never give false hope or cause trouble. He knew, in the eyes of the ladies, he was considered to be a thoughtful, energetic and demanding lover, and no one who got the chance to lie with him turned him down. So why was he now considering how best to bed Lydia?

‘Then… oh lord, there is your annoying heir.’ Diana rolled her eyes as she changed the subject, much to Harry’s relief.

The annoying heir he intended to rescue Lydia from.

‘Joking aside, Harry, marry and put him out of the equation,’ Diana said seriously. ‘Do you know he’s been dropping very unsavoury hints about his soon-to-be good fortune? Even if he is to overnight become fabulously wealthy, it is so not good to boast about it. Where is the money coming from? You?’

‘Good lord, no.’ Harry shook his head emphatically. ‘He’s probably trying to force my hand to let him take control of his inheritance,’ he said, thinking furiously. Things were developing that he suspected needed nipping in the bud. Hopefully Pugh would soon have some information for him. ‘I told him to grow up first.’

‘I doubt he can with a mother like his, though,’ Diana observed shrewdly. ‘I… ah ha.’

Jeremy had got to within a few feet of Harry and his companion, seen them, scowled and turned on his heel.

‘He needs to learn better manners as well,’ Diana said quietly, but no less forcefully for that. ‘He was sniffing around Donald until Leominster sent him away with a flea in his ear. Jeremy not Donald.’

‘Ah? Sniffing for what?’

‘Lord knows. Although sometimes my son would try the patience of a saint, he is not scheming and I suspect, my dear Harry, that your heir is.’

‘I fear you could be correct,’ Harry said slowly. ‘Now let’s change the subject. I’ve had more than enough of him – more than any man could stomach. I have feelers out, so don’t worry.’

‘Good. Now, why do I hear Lady Raith introduced you to Lydia Field, who, I assure you, would not be up for dalliance or, I suspect, anything else? She is a perfectly well behaved but spiritless lady who would bore you rigid in minutes.’ Diana smoothed a strand of her hair and looked at him with shrewd eyes. ‘What is going on?’

‘Diana, my dear, you know my godmother,’ Harry said suavely, not at all surprised by her rapid change of subject, as he watched Jeremy disappear in the direction of the card room. ‘Once she gets a bee in her bonnet, none of us is safe. She decided Lady Lydia needed an escort to get some air, and I was chosen. I did as I was bidden. Now I’ll take a turn round the room, as I know you want me to. Smile and look interested, avoid predatory mamas, have a duty dance, put some young deb in alt, and then retire to the card room.’ And no doubt have to watch Jeremy like a hawk.

Diana sighed, and patted his cheek. ‘Ever the rake. Dance with Lydia Field and really stir things up.’

Harry waggled his finger at her. ‘You, my dear, are a troublemaker. A gorgeous, devious troublemaker.’

She giggled and looked like a young deb, not a matron with a happy marriage, a grown-up son, and a mischievous three-year-old daughter. ‘I do hope so. Now shoo, go and set hearts a-fluttering. Johnny is in the card room.’

Harry bowed and turned on his heel. He and Diana had once, many years ago, thought about a relationship. Her first husband had died and she was sad and alone. However, he sensed it would not be what either of them wanted and so instead introduced her to John, the Earl of Leominster, stood beside John at the couple’s wedding, and was godfather to Florence, their only child together.

He circled the room, in a seemingly careless, no destination in mind manner, nodded to some acquaintances, ignored a pair of giggling debs who stared at him with hungry eyes, and avoided a lady he knew had her heart set on him as her next protector. It was not going to happen. He intended to devote all his attention and energy to Lydia. If he found her. He still hadn’t fathomed why he needed to wrestle her from Jeremy’s clutches. Something about her tugged at him. He’d never expected to have the sort of interest in anyone he experienced when he thought of Lydia. It wasn’t the cock-hardening rush of lust he’d had with some of his past mistresses. Or the friendly interest he had, say, for Edward’s wife. For once he had no idea exactly what he felt and it was very disconcerting. Even so, he intended to find out. With or without her agreement.

At least now he understood the working of her mind a little more, and nowadays knew the sorts of places he would see Lydia. As he expected, she was ensconced in a corner with several other ladies who were collectively known as wallflowers. Almost, but not quite, on the shelf and supposedly resigned to the idea. Now he understood Lydia a little more, Harry thought he could see how she was being very clever by hiding among them. Only if you looked closely could you notice her glazed expression as the ladies chatted.

He made his way efficiently through the crowds to her side.

‘So we meet again, my dear.’ He let his glance rove over her with pleasure, noted the quick flash of temper – swiftly masked – and bit back a grin. Contrary to what he knew he was expected to see – a mousy girl dressed quietly and elegantly, but boringly, in a pale-blue dress with a darker-blue flounce – he saw the exact opposite. What he suspected she had hoped to disguise. Lustrous hair, sparkling eyes, a perfect complexion and a body his own ached to discover. Harry still marvelled how no one else saw through her obvious – to him – disguise. Why did no one else understand that to itch to discover what was hidden under fine blue silk was so much more tantalising than being shown it.