Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Coming home was supposed to have been a comfort.

The carriage ride had been cramped and uncomfortable. They had been stopped by every delay known to man as well as had to endure annoying questions about not traveling with a man by the innkeeper that they had been forced to stop at halfway in their journey. As if it were not obvious by the three girls wearing black as to just why they might not be traveling with a man.

Lydia was sick and tired of hearing all the things that she needed a man to do.

She did not need a man. She was going to prove it.

She had no idea how she was going to prove it, but she was wholly determined. Every hour of the drive, the girls complained softly of their hunger or how uncomfortable the carriage ride was or how tired they were or how much they missed their father. Lydia needed space to breathe for herself, but there was still so much to do.

She practically had to carry Juliet out of the carriage and into the house when she arrived. It was so early in the morning that the sky was still dark all around them. The staff was in the middle of preparations and not standing outside to greet them as they had arrived earlier than planned.

When the housekeeper rushed outside to assist her with the girls and to help them back into bed or a warm bath, Lydia was happy to let them go. At least they would be able to be surrounded by familiar comforts during this transitional period. They would get to sleep in their own beds in their own rooms. They had all of their toys and books so at least that should bring some comfort. At least until the duke arrived.

Even Kitty seemed to be more at ease here as she stumbled from the carriage. She gave her sister a brief hug before Kitty staggered, yawning, into the house. But Lydia lingered in the foyer, absorbing the house that she had worked so hard to make her home.

She had put forth so much time and effort into making this feel not so cold and drafty as it had seemed when she moved in. Now there were bright flowers everywhere and colorful paintings on the walls. The tapestries and rugs were warm and inviting and soft to the touch.

Would the duke, whoever he truly was, get rid of all of those touches? Would he make the place barren once more?

Those were problems for another time. For now, Lydia allowed herself to breathe in the familiar scents of her home as she wound her way up the stairs slowly toward her room. She paused before her door, and turned her focus down the hall to where Jacob’s bedroom and office were.

The door to his office was still ajar, no doubt from the cat that he refused to admit he adored coming in and out of the space. The gray tabby loved nothing more than to sit in the middle of his paperwork when he was home. Though, Lydia had not seen the feline since Jacob’s passing. She did not often come into the office when Lydia was working in there.

His bedroom, however, was a place that she very infrequently visited. It was the only room that had not been changed since she moved in after their wedding. It was the most ‘Jacob’ room in the house in that it only housed functional items.

Even in his office there was but one short bookcase that held reference texts and the extensive journals that he kept to document his travels. Despite bringing back gifts for the girls from all over the world, Jacob was not a collector of trinkets or anything other than experiences.

When he was around, he could always be counted on for a good story.

That was the true warmth that he brought to the home.

Was she even going to tolerate being in that room to clean out his things before the duke arrived? No doubt the man was going to insist on the main room of the house. Lydia cared not whether it was his right to or not, it was barbaric. What sort of man could come into another man’s home and just presume that he belonged there and to change whatever he saw fit.

She was just going to have to sit the duke down and have a very stern talk with him.

This is her home, and she refused to give it up. The duke was going to have a real fight on his hands when he chose to arrive, she would ensure it.

“Shall we draw you a bath as well, my lady?” the housekeeper asked, pausing at the top of the stairs. “I could even have breakfast brought to your room if you should like?”

Times like this, Lydia dearly missed Martha. If only her old friend had been here, then she could have truly released a bit of steam. She would have felt better if she could have the space to speak her mind freely.

“Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.” Lydia said with forced neutrality.

The housekeeper smiled softly, pulling the fresh towels in her arms tighter into her chest. “I shall see it done, my lady. Which dress should you like us to prepare for you? I do apologize that we were unprepared, we thought that you would be arriving with the duke mid-morning.”

Lydia blanched. “I beg your pardon?”

“...the duke?” the housekeeper repeated.

“He is coming today?!”

“Yes, my lady. Did he not send word to your father’s house as well? I beg your pardon, but we assumed that was why you were leaving your father’s home so soon after the funeral. It is customary to—”

“Dash that, I do not need a lecture on what is customary.” Lydia interrupted, and then instantly felt badly for it. “Forgive my tone, it was a very long drive. Bring me the letter from the duke, I shall meet you in my bathing chambers.”

It felt sneaky and underhanded is what it did.

All through her bath she stewed. Lydia was unable to eat a single thing. She did not wish to get herself all dressed up for a man who was going to come up and disrupt her whole life. She did not wish to have anything to do with any of it. She simply wished to live the rest of her life in peace, pursuing anything that she so desired. She did not see how that could possibly be such a bad thing.

Halfway through getting dressed, the butler knocked on the door to announce the arrival of the duke.

“Already?!” Lydia hissed under her breath. She was not ready. She had not had sufficient time to prepare anything, let alone create a proper plan of action for how she was supposed to handle this situation. The next thing she knew, Kitty was standing outside of her door, fretting as she waited for Lydia to join her so that they could head down into the parlor.

He was not as impressive of a man as his title would suggest. Standing in the doorway, the two sisters exchanged knowing looks. The duke was only a couple of inches taller than herself, and unassuming in build. Despite how fine the clothes that he wore were, it was obvious that either his tailor did not know what they were doing, or he had chosen a poorly fitting outfit.

Almost as if he wore clothes for a man thinner and taller than himself. The hair on his head and sides of his face was patchy and ill groomed. Overall, Lydia would not have given him a second glance were he not standing in her home holding her future in his hands.

“Your Grace,” She greeted, dipping into a low bow that her sister copied silently. Kitty moved in her shadow as Lydia walked into the room. The duke did not greet her back, rather he looked down his long nose at her as if he had the right to appraise her.

“So, you are the dowager countess?” He said, his brow arching.

No, she did not like him at all. He already seemed arrogant. That did not bode well for the two of them getting along well going forward.

Finally, he stepped forward, walking a tight circle around her, close enough that she could smell the oils in his hair. It did not suit him. Lydia had to fight to keep from wrinkling her nose as he examined her.

“As you know, I am the Duke of Somerfield,” he continued. He clasped his hands behind his back and started to look around the room more closely. She took that as dismissal enough and gestured for Kitty to take a seat. She did not like that he did not even bother attempting to speak to Kitty. “And it appears that I truly have my work cut out for me here…there is much to do.”

Lydia’s eye twitched. “I apologize for not being here to greet you properly, Your Grace. I shall have rooms prepared for you at on-”

“The master suite, of course. I shall be in the main room. That is what you mean to say, is it not?”

“Your Grace, I have not yet cleared out my husbands-”

“What? What is the reason for the delay? No matter, I shall have them thrown out. He cannot make use of material items now anyway.” the duke said as he laughed at his own poor joke.

“That will not be necessary. We have a great many guest rooms that will be more than adequate. I shall have my housekeeper show you-”

“No. I insist on the rooms that are owed to me. I should like to get started right away.”

Kitty reached forward and clasped Lydia’s hand. “Perhaps we should allow His Grace to get settled in? The long ride from London could put anyone in poor spirits. We could discuss things over dinner?”

She had a point.

The duke spun; his light brown eyes locked on hers as if daring her to look away first. She could already tell this was to be a battle of wills. He would soon come to find out that she did not tolerate being spoken to in such condescending terms, and she was far more stubborn than he could ever hope to be.

The duke’s brow arched, his lips twisting upward in a smirk because he knew that she had no choice but to give in.

“Very well,” Lydia conceded. “We have had a long journey, Your Grace, and we had only just started to re- acclimate ourselves after the journey. Perhaps we could discuss the upcoming days over dinner this evening?”

“I hope that you have a good cook here, I have elevated taste,” the duke said.

“You ought to go upstairs and get some rest, Kitty. I will follow shortly.”

Kitty squeezed her hand softly, and then bowed to the duke who still seemed not able to see her.

The moment that Kitty was out of the room, she rounded on the duke. “You know, I have always heard that all men eventually let their titles run away with them. A case of overly inflated ego is almost inevitable.”

“Excuse me?” The duke said, his smirk falling right off of his face. “I shall forgive your impertinence only once, young lady, I suggest that you march right up those stairs.”

“I will not be spoken to like a child in my own home, Your Grace. Nor do I think that our business can wait for dinner.”

The man laughed bitterly. “I do not think that there is anything that a woman could possibly have to say on the matters of business?”

“When they concern my home and my children’s futures? I have a great deal to say.” Lydia countered.

The duke all but rolled his eyes at her, snapping his fingers in the direction of the small drink cart positioned near the wall.

Lydia saw red. She was not to be commanded around like a dog, nor was she a servant in this household.

But then something caught her eye—just there on the second tier of the card was a small blue bottle with Jacob’s laudanum in it. Perhaps there was something that she was able to do about her future.

Her hands moved without fear of consequence. Behind her, she could hear the duke snort with pleasure that she was doing as she was told. She brought him a fresh whiskey, strong enough to mask the subtle scent of the tonic. Licking his lips wetly, he opened his mouth to speak again—but no words came out.

Within moments, the man collapsed to the floor with a thud. Unconscious.

Lydia had never been so tempted to kick a man in her life.

Now she just needed to figure out what the hell to do with him. More than that, she needed to ensure that nobody was going to see anything suspicious.

Then the heavy front doors opened down the hall, and she heard her butler greeting at least two men, ushering them into the house. She needed to do something quickly. Think, Lydia, think. Only her now panicked mind was drawing a complete and utter blank.

Lydia swore. “Double damn.”