Page 150 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘You do not seem pleased to see me,’ Ashford observed.

‘How astute you are.’

A brief silence.

‘Your aunt does not seem … quite as monstrous as you described.’

Lydia decided she would ignore such conversational sallies. She would not be drawn into a trifling exchange of commonplaces, as if they were friends, until he had explained himself.

‘Lady Phoebe sends her best regards,’ he tried next.

Alas, fury and curiosity were not mutually exclusive emotions. ‘How is she?’

‘As well as can be,’ he said. ‘Keeping herself characteristically busy: selling the diamonds, the house. Dacre is helping.’

‘He is still at Hawkscroft?’

‘He intends to remain until a seller is secured,’ Ashford said. ‘At which point, he will return to his own country seat – with Reeves.’

Her eyes sprang, unbidden, to his. ‘Lady Phoebe has permitted it?’

Ashford nodded, smiling. ‘He goes with her blessing. If the house sells, she is unlikely to need both a housekeeper and a butler – and, as luck would have it, Dacre had a vacancy.’

‘Fortuitous timing, indeed,’ Lydia said, unable to prevent herself from smiling any longer. There was one happy ending, at least.

They had reached a fork in the garden’s path and Ashford paused. ‘Which way do you …?’

Lydia veered left at random, leading them away from the rose garden and towards the entrance to the hedge maze. With the light quickly fading, to be alone in such a place – even with Aunt Mildred’s permission – was not quite the thing, but at that moment Lydia did not particularly care and Ashford followed her agreeably enough. Perhaps, if she got very cross with him, she would leave him within.

‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘I visited your aunt and uncle, in Berkley Square,’ Ashford said.

Lydia narrowed her eyes. ‘They are not in Berkley Square.’

‘As I found out,’ Ashford said pleasantly. ‘It took a little while to track down their Brighton lodgings, which accounts – in part – for my delay.’

She turned to look at him, startled.

‘Careful,’ Ashford warned, nodding to where a branch had fallen across the path.

She thanked him distractedly. He had gone all the way to Brighton? ‘Was it … an enjoyable reunion?’

‘Not particularly,’ he said. ‘They were not very impressed with me – nor I with them.’

A thousand questions sprang to Lydia’s tongue – most inconvenient, given her recent vow of icy reticence. But as they made another turn, following by instinct the sound of bubbling water which surely heralded some kind of fountain at the maze’s centre, Ashford spoke.

‘I wish to apologize. I thought my letter would have prevented your banishment.’

It was a good beginning, but Lydia was not feeling charitable. ‘You cannot be so surprised, you are so often wrong.’

For the first time, Ashford’s patience slipped.

‘Am I to be continually insulted in this conversation?’ There was a slight bite in his voice. ‘Or are you able to speak civilly?’

Lydia fired up at once. ‘What did you expect? How dare you be so presumptuous – so presumptuous as to presume to—’

‘Presume my presumption?’ Ashford suggested.