Chapter 11

"Iwish you'd stop looking so miserable, Lydia," Derek said, looking up from his place by the hearth in the drawing room.

Lydia was sitting by the window, gazing out into the garden. She turned to him and shrugged. She looked miserable because she was miserable.

"And how else am I supposed to look, Derek? Should I be filled with joy at the thought of my brother forcing me into a marriage I don't want, and with a man who doesn't want to marry me either?" she asked.

Derek sighed. "It's for your own good, Lydia. A woman who… compromises herself can't pick and choose her circumstances. Besides, you've been lucky. You'll be the Countess of Walford." He raised an eyebrow. "It's hardly a title to be ashamed of. I'm sure Caroline would agree."

Lydia couldn't help but smile wryly.

Her brother was right. The announcement of the engagement had been made in the periodicals—it would be the talk of drawing rooms and salons across the capital—and Lydia was certain her cousin would know hear it. At the wedding, Caroline had made no secret of being impressed with Philip's rank, and if she was not jealous of what Lydia was marrying into, she would certainly be jealous.

"Yes, I know. And I know I'm very lucky. It's just… well, I don't feel very lucky. It's been forced on me. On us. I feel sorry for Philip, too," Lydia replied, for she still did not know what Ezra had said—or threatened—Philip with to ensure the match was made.

"But he's the one responsible, Lydia. You both are, I suppose. Besides, you've been friends in the past," Derek pointed out.

This was the opinion shared by all three of her brothers, and their mother. The match was a suitable one because they had previously been friends. But a friendship of the past was not a friendship of the future. Lydia did not know what the two of them now had in common—they could hardly spend their married life wrestling with one another in the rose garden or hiding in the shrubbery. Childhood innocence was replaced by the responsibilities of adulthood. Marriage was a serious business, not to be entered into lightly.

"But… you of all people should know what marriage means, Derek. Think of what the prayer book says. ‘If either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.' Isn't a lack of love an impediment?" Lydia asked.

Her brother considered the question for a moment, then shook his head.

"One doesn't necessarily marry for love, Lydia. And when it comes to the aristocratic classes, necessity and duty play their part equally well. I'm sure many of our rank and class who are married love one another, and I'm sure many don't. It's not an impediment. An impediment would be if either of you were already married, or something similar. No, you can't get out of it that easily. The license is in hand. It won't be long now," he replied.

Lydia had tried to get out of the match—she had refused, she had argued, she had looked for ways to get around what now seemed inevitable…

"Then you're saying I have no choice in the matter?" she asked.

Her brother sighed. "I'm saying you've made your choice, Lydia, and that's that," he replied.

Lydia was about to continue arguing when a knock sounded at the door and the butler, Burns, entered.

"The Earl of Walford," the butler announced, and both Lydia and Derek rose to their feet.

Lydia's heart skipped a beat. She had not expected Philip to call on them. He had given no indication he would come, and now he entered, looking somewhat nervous as she curtsied to him and Derek gave a curt bow.

Philip shook his head. "Please, no formalities."

"But you're very welcome here. I'm afraid my brother's out on business," Derek said as Philip caught Lydia's eye.

She smiled shyly at him, wondering why he had come, and if he, too, had been agonizing over the matter in just the same way as she had.

"It wasn't Ezra I came to see. I was hoping… if Lydia is agreeable to it, to suggest a walk—a promenade—in the park." Philip glanced again at Lydia, who nodded.

They had a great deal to talk about, and Derek made no objection, save for instructing Lydia to take her maid with her.

"It wouldn't do to have a repeat of the other day," he warned.

Lydia hurried upstairs to fetch a bonnet and shawl, instructing her maid to follow them at a discreet distance. Philip was waiting for her in the hallway. He smiled at her and offered her his arm.

"I thought we could walk around the boating pond. It's such a beautiful day, isn't it?" he said.

Lydia did not know why he was doing this. Did he feel duty-bound to make a show? To give the impression the two of them actually wanted this, rather than accepting it under duress?

"It is, yes," she replied.

There was an awkwardness between them. It should not have been like this—none of it. Lydia was reluctant to go with him. She did not want to put on a show for others and pretend to be happy. None of this was right.

"And then perhaps… a coffeehouse?" he added.

"You don't have to do this," she blurted out.

Philip looked at her in surprise. "I… do what?" he asked.

"This. The pretense of us being a courting couple. It's all for show, isn't it? We've got to look the part, but… I don't want to look the part. It's bad enough we've been forced into this, let alone made to pretend as though everything's perfect," Lydia replied.

There was no point in holding back her opinion. It was how she felt. The simple pleasure of reacquaintance had now been blown into something wholly out of proportion. It was simply ridiculous.

Philip looked uncomfortable, and he pulled his arm away, the two of them now walking side by side as they approached the park. An awkward silence fell between them, and Lydia knew she was making it worse by not speaking. She had always excelled in creating an atmosphere, but now she reminded herself this was not Philip's fault. He had lost as much as she had—more so, perhaps.

"I'm sorry, Lydia. I never meant for any of this to happen. But… can't we at least make the best of the situation we find ourselves in? We were friends once. Can't we be friends again?" he asked.

Lydia could not be angry with him. She was not angry with him. She was angry with the situation, and with what her brother had forced her to do under the circumstances. They were in this together, and given the friendship they had known, Lydia could at least be grateful he was not a complete stranger.

She sighed and nodded. "Yes… you're right. I'm sorry, Philip. It's all happened so fast, that's all. I wasn't expecting any of this—to be getting married, and to you," she said, smiling, for there was something darkly comic in the tragedy of it all.

Philip smiled, too. "Yes… I wasn't expecting it either. I suppose we just… got carried away. I didn't mean to kiss you—Well, I didn't kiss you. We didn't get that far."

Lydia blushed.

It was the scandal that was not. There had been nothing improper, and yet, in the moment, just before they had been caught, Lydia would have been glad to have shared such an intimacy. She did not know why. She had never thought of Philip in such a way. As children, he had treated her like one of her brothers, and she had done the same. But time had passed, they had both grown up, and Lydia had, at that moment—to her surprise—seen Philip in quite a different way…

"No, we didn't. But we might as well have. I mean… that's what they all think, don't they? That's why we're here now, isn't it?" Lydia said.

Philip nodded. "You're right, and shouldn't we make the best of it?"

Lydia nodded. He was right. There was no choice in the matter—not now. They could refuse, but to do so would be to bring scandal, not only to themselves but to their families, too. Philip was doing what was right, and it was incumbent on Lydia to do the same. For her own sake, and that of others.

"I suppose we should, yes. We are—here we are, promenading in the park, it's lovely," Lydia said, forcing a smile on her face.

As Derek had pointed out, there were many women—Caroline included—who would give anything to be in Lydia's shoes. She was promenading with the Earl of Walford, a handsome man possessed of good fortune and title, a man with ambition and expectation attached to his name. As the Countess of Walford, Lydia could look forward to a comfortable life, without any of the hardships so many others were forced to endure. She would have the respect of others and would be expected to be an example for aspiring young ladies.

"I must say… if I were to be forced to marry anyone, I'm glad it's you, Lydia, Philip admitted.

Lydia laughed. She did not know if his words were meant as a compliment or not. "You flatter me. But I suppose I'd say the same, too. I don't begrudge the fact of our marrying. It's just come as something of a surprise, that's all," she replied.

They had once more joined arms and were walking down a path between weeping willows, next to a large boating pond. It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny with the sky blue above. Other couples were doing the same, and they passed several people

Lydia knew, by the knowing looks, that news of the betrothal had spread far and wide. It would be an even greater scandal to renege on an engagement, and she knew acceptance—rather than resistance—was the best course of action.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I don't… It's just… I've occasionally wondered what might've happened between us if we'd grown up together," Philip said.

Lydia blushed. It was not something she had considered. If anything, she had tried not to think about such things, accepting instead the fact of their drifting apart.

"And what do you think we would've done?" Lydia asked, for she was curious to know where his thoughts had led him.

Philip smiled. "Oh, I don't know. We were so young—children. But I suppose, had I not gone away, had we not lost touch, perhaps an arrangement would've been made, just as it has been made now," he said.

Lydia laughed. He looked somewhat hurt as she did so, but the very thought of it was quite remarkable…

"I don't know… my brother always told me he'd let me choose who I married," she said.

"And you wouldn't have chosen me?" Philip asked.

"It's not that, but… it's foolish to speculate on these things. It does no one any good. These are the circumstances we find ourselves in. And that's that," Lydia replied.

There was no point in asking what might have been. Things were as they were. Had Philip not gone away, perhaps the two of them would have gotten married. Or perhaps something else would have driven a wedge between them—another man, or another woman.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself," Philip said, blushing as they walked on in silence.

Lydia pondered his words, and she knew, too, where the balance of power lay in their relationship. Philip could be arrogant at times—though he seemed less so now that he had grown up—but it was Lydia who could always have the last word. She had power over him, but it was a power she knew she had to exercise with caution, rather than be domineering. She, too, had grown up, and if their marriage was to work, it had to be one of equality, rather than a power play.

"Do you think we'll argue?" she asked.

Philip turned to her and smiled. "It's inevitable, isn't it? We always used to," he said.

Lydia nodded. "I know we did, but… perhaps we should try not to."

He was about to reply when up ahead, Lydia saw two familiar figures coming towards them. It was Caroline and Edward, walking arm in arm by the boating pond. Lydia would gladly have avoided her cousin, but Caroline already caught sight of them, whispering something to Edward as the two of them approached.

"Lydia, Philip—My Lord, how nice to see you both," Caroline greeted.

"Cousin, I understand congratulations are in order. And to think, your reacquaintance occurred at our wedding…" Edward said.

Philip nodded. "Thank you, Edward. We're… very happy." He glanced at Lydia, who smiled.

She did not know what to say to Caroline, though there seemed to be tension between her cousin and Edward. Their outward show—arm in arm, promenading in the park—was that of a happy married couple, and yet strain was evident on Edward's expression.

"I was surprised, but very pleased, of course," Caroline added, turning to her cousin.

Lydia smiled. "Yes… I'm sure," she said, for Caroline would now be doubly related to the Earl of Walford.

"To think, our two families brought together. You'll be the Countess of Walford, Lydia. What a respectable title," Caroline continued.

There was the merest hint of bitterness in her voice, as though she was coming to resent her own position, now that she realized it was Lydia who had come off far better than she.

"Yes, and with great responsibility, too. I don't envy you, Philip. You must be consumed by duty," Edward piped up.

"Well… not so much consumed, no. I'm certainly occupied. But there's still time to pursue more leisurely activities," Philip replied, glancing at Lydia, who smiled.

"We mustn't keep you. Do you plan to go to Bath soon?" Lydia asked.

Caroline shook her head. "No. It's far better to remain in London, I think. The provinces aren't really to my taste. But we mustn't delay you any further, must we?" She subtly nudged her husband.

Edward nodded. "No, we certainly mustn't. Good day to you both, and we look forward to the wedding. I'm sure it'll be a delightful affair," Edward said, and with a further nod, the two of them walked on.

Lydia sighed, glancing at Philip, who raised his eyebrows.

"They make a strange couple, don't they? I hadn't fully appreciated it before. But there's something not quite right about the whole thing. Or am I being terribly uncharitable?" he asked.

But Lydia shook her head. She thought just the same thing. It was not the match she had at first thought. Something was wrong, but she could not put her finger on it.

"I don't think so, no. They were so very much in love before they married. But it seems to me as though she resents him for something. I don't know what. It's hard to say, isn't it? Perhaps she's just bitter because… of us," Lydia mused, blushing as she glanced at Philip.

Philip shook his head. "I don't see why she needs to be. But… no matter. I'm sure it's of no importance," he said as they walked on together by the boating pond.

The path led to an area of the park where horses were exercised and carriages raced. Lydia had always loved horses. She had her own mount—a piebald mare named Josie—and could ride just as well as any man who might challenge her. Carriage racing, too, was something she enjoyed, and she and Philip now stood watching as several mounts and riders competed against one another across an open piece of grassland set aside for such activities.

"Don't they look magnificent?" Philip commented as they watched a horse and rider charge past, followed by several carriages.

The drivers were standing on the buckboards, urging the horses to greater speeds, as the rider in front led them down the trail. Two were neck and neck, and the noise as they thundered past was incredible. Lydia clapped her hands together, shouting for the horses to go faster. Several of the other spectators looked at her disapprovingly, but she did not care. She was caught up in the excitement of the race as two more carriages thundered past.

"I can't believe they stay upright. Look at the way the wheels are shaking. It's as though they're about to fall apart," she exclaimed, watching as one of the carriages almost turned over as it swerved around a corner, narrowly missing the one next to it.

"That's part of the excitement, isn't it? Look at that one." Philip pointed towards another of the carriages, this one having just been lifted into the air by the force of a bump.

Lydia wished she was one of the drivers—the speed, the excitement. But all of them were men. Carriage driving was not something her mother approved of, though she and Graham had often driven together, and her brother had always allowed her to take the reins…

"It's wonderful. How exciting!" she exclaimed.

But just as she spoke, Philip grabbed hold of her, pushing her to the side. A horse, out of control, was thundering towards them, and she screamed as the animal reared up on its hind legs, the rest of the crowd scattering as it bore down on them…