Page 149 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘Of course I do not need to introduce you to Miss Lydia, do I?’

Ashford bowed again. Lydia did not curtsey. She had found herself, suddenly and abruptly, awash with more rage than she would have believed her body possible of containing.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

‘Miss Lydia!’ Mrs Lindell breathed.

Ashford rose from his bow and smiled. ‘As you may tell, Miss Lydia and I are old friends.’

‘No, we are not!’ Lydia snapped.

‘Close acquaintances?’ he suggested.

‘No!’

Ashford paused, appearing to consider. ‘Reluctant enemies?’

Aunt Mildred gave a soft snort of laughter. Mrs Lindell looked ready to swoon. Lydia only glared.

‘Well,’ Mrs Lindell said faintly, ‘I believe they are about to call the next set so I shall …’

She backed away slowly.

‘Perhaps I might have this next dance?’ Ashford held out a hand towards Lydia with an encouraging smile.

‘I’m afraid my dance card is quite full!’

Ashford looked her over. ‘You do not have a dance card.’

‘That’s how full it is!’

Aunt Mildred raised her eyes to the heavens. ‘Lydia, my dear, Lord Ashford wishes to speak privately with you.’

Lydia cast her a look of betrayal. Was she on his side, now? ‘His wish is not reciprocated.’

Having spent the better part of a fortnight desperate to see him, she now very much found that she wanted nothing more than to never see him again.

‘Now, now,’ Aunt Mildred chided. ‘Lydia, dear, perhaps you might gift Lord Ashford with a few moments of your time. He has travelled such a long way.’

Lydia scowled. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ashford reach into his pocket.

‘If you take out your snuffbox now,’ Lydia said, ‘I shall scream.’

Ashford withdrew his hands, holding them up, supplicating.

‘Why don’t you show him the gardens?’ Aunt Agatha said. ‘You might locate your brother, while you are there.’

Lydia’s hands clenched.

‘I can leave now, if you truly do not wish to see me,’ Ashford said softly.

She did not want that, either. ‘Oh, very well.’

She stormed past him, ignoring his proffered arm, and made for the flight of stone steps that led down to the gardens.

It was not dark – it would not be, for several more hours, country balls taking place so much earlier than those in the city, and with the summer equinox still ahead of them – but still, Mrs Lindell had placed lamps all along the walkways, and there was the faint sound of music. Clearly, she expected people to take a turn of the gardens, and yet as they walked, Lydia did not see a single one.

They walked in silence for several moments, a yard of distance between their shoulders, Lydia’s eyes trained resolutely forward.