Page 123 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

Lydia felt a rush of impatience at the interruption.

‘Do I?’ Ashford said.

‘She was most disappointed when you were not here for the waltz,’ Lady Hesse said. ‘Let me find her and you can make up the next set …’

Lydia had to get rid of her.

‘It is so difficult to keep track of persons, tonight,’ Lady Hesse said, peering this way and that. ‘I have not seen Hesse for several minutes.’

‘I have,’ Lydia said. ‘He and Lady Morton went to find a quiet spot to … rest.’

Lady Hesse swung her head round to regard Lydia.

‘Which way did they go?’ she said sharply.

Lydia pointed vaguely down the corridor, and Lady Hesse bustled off.

‘Liar,’ Ashford accused softly.

‘It’s probably true,’ Lydia argued. ‘You might thank me for getting rid of her, you know.’

She drew him backwards from the dance floor, so they might avoid further interruptions, next to the shielding leaves of a gigantic potted palm, though turning a little so that she might keep Sir Waldo and Lady Phoebe in her eyeline.

‘We have sent your brother on a fool’s errand,’ Ashford said. ‘He is wrong about Waldo.’

‘Is he? Waldo might not be a thief, but I believe he is still a villain. Perhaps you might wish to have another conversation with your cousin?’ Lydia suggested, as lightly as she was able.

‘I do not think,’ Ashford said, ‘I have anything else to say at this time.’

‘Truly? Even after a whole afternoon to yourself?’

‘Do not joke.’ Ashford irritably batted away a palm leaf that kept attaching itself to his shoulder. ‘If she is not careful, she will ruin herself – and the family.’

‘You are making a mountain out of a …’ Well, it was not quite a molehill, was it? ‘Medium hill,’ she settled upon. ‘I know this is very alarming for you, given your … ’

Lydia tried to work out the most tactful way of phrasing this – but she had too much on her mind to make the attempt. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sir Waldo accept another glass of champagne. This would be his sixth, now.

‘Given your mother ran off …’

‘You should never have been told that,’ Ashford said, coldly. ‘And I would ask you to not speak of what you do not understand.’

Now Sir Waldo was leading Lady Phoebe towards the dance floor, again. They had completed several dances together, already – Sir Waldo taking advantage of the masks to avoid the usual hosting duties.

‘You might know the facts,’ Ashford said. ‘But that still gives you no right to think you understand a single thing about my life.’ He had her full attention, again. He had not used such a cold tone with her in many days, now. He made as if to leave. ‘If you will excuse me …?’

Lydia grasped his arm before he could take a step.

‘Of course I do not understand,’ she said urgently. ‘Until today, I thought your parents to be a great love match – I can barely believe that was a lie, let alone—’

‘It wasn’t a lie,’ Ashford interrupted. ‘They did love one another, in the beginning. My father still does – it is only her mind that changed.’

He set his jaw, as if the words had escaped without his permission. A decade of secrecy was not easily forgotten, it seemed. Lady Phoebe had told Lydia earlier that – even in privacy – the family did not speak of the scandal. Lydia imagined a younger Ashford having to suffer such tangled circumstances in silence – a loss, but not in the way everyone thought – and felt her chest tighten.

‘It must be hard, to keep up such a pretence all these years,’ she said, with a gentleness she did not know she possessed. ‘For you, and His Grace.’

Ashford leant away, as if in bodily rejection of such sympathy. ‘You need not feel sorry for him,’ he muttered. ‘He prefers the lie, I think. It suits him better. The way he speaks about her,’ he continued, as if, now he had begun, it was difficult to cease. ‘Even now, as if she is some angel who could do no wrong, recommending I seek out such torture?’

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Sentimentality blinds him. She ruined him – he loved her, and she left him, and she left me … ’