It was scandalous.
She, Miss Lydia Baker, was a scandal!
She’d kissed a man, and she could hardly believe it. But there was no time for reflection, because while her heart still raced, there was work to be done. And who knew when they’d have another opportunity like this one.
Kitty still slept in the corner, and while servants and no doubt Miss Farthington, bustled about in the rooms beyond, Lydia was still blissfully alone with Lord Galena.
Luke. He’d told her to call him Luke when they’d sat together side by side on the settee to pore over the passage.
Well, he pored over the passage while she flipped through the pages of her novel to find the right spot. “Here it is, Lord Gal—” She stopped short and caught his flinch. “Er, Luke. My apologies.”
His easy smile made her warm all over. “Do not apologize. It’s I who have the odd abhorrence at hearing that title. But I suppose it’s high time I got used to it.” His smile never faltered but her heart felt a pang at the pain she saw deep in his eyes.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” she said.
She caught a flicker of surprise in his eyes at that. “Thank you. I...” He cleared his throat. “I grieve, of course, at the loss of him. But to be completely honest, it’s mostly regret that I feel now that the initial shock of losing him has faded.”
She tilted her head to the side, a silent show of encouragement to continue. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t. But he started speaking again so quickly, as if the words had been there, on his tongue just itching to escape.
She understood that feeling well.
“We were never close growing up. Not because we didn’t respect each other,” he said, his gaze growing distant and a little frustrated, like he was searching the past to pinpoint their relationship. “It was more that we were treated so differently by our parents. I know they loved us both in their own way, but he was the heir, and I was the spare, and never the twain shall meet.” He ended with a rueful smile that didn’t quite cover up the hurt he’d experienced.
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “I can understand that to some extent, I think.”
His gaze grew serious as well. “Yes, I’m sure you can. Your sister was seen as the family’s great hope, was she not? Everyone expected her to marry well and you to…”
“Die.” Her eyes widened with alarm. Had she really just said that so bluntly? How morbid.
His smile was small and gentle. “It couldn’t have been easy, facing death all your life.”
She kept her mouth shut, afraid that if she tried to speak, she’d start to cry. No one had ever acknowledged the fears she’d faced every day of her life as she’d prepared herself for the inevitable.
“You are so brave,” he said.
And her heart nearly shattered. She supposed a better person wouldn’t need that validation, but she felt as if she’d been waiting her whole life for someone to say those very words and she just hadn’t realized it until she heard them.
“You’re brave too,” she said at last. And it sounded ridiculous. Of course, he was. She’d said as much before. Everyone knew as much. But now, she meant something different and she reached for his hand. “You’re brave to step into your brother’s role.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Thank you.”
She smiled but then the smile faltered. “I think...”
“What is it?” he urged when she didn’t start immediately.
But unlike the pressure she felt when others got impatient with her silence, she actually felt like he was eager to hear what she thought. “I think you’ll regret it even more if you don’t do him justice,” she said. “I suspect you don’t feel like it was meant for you, just like there are times I feel like...” She swallowed hard. “Like maybe I wasn’t meant to live.”
His hand squeezed hers and his nostrils flared, his lips pinched with emotion.
“But despite how it came about, we’ve both been given something,” she said. “A chance for a new life.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be mine,” he said, his voice so lowly she only just heard him. Her heart ached for him. There was no love lost between Lydia and Imogene, but she would still be heartbroken to lose her. And yes, she’d have more than her fair share of regrets over the relationship they didn’t have.
“His death was not your fault,” she said. “Even though you may take over as heir and all that comes with it, you are not to blame for his death and never wished for it.”
Of course, it wasn’t his fault. Everyone knew that. But she suspected he needed to hear it.
His throat worked as he held her gaze. “You are a marvel; do you know that?”
She let out a huff of laughter.
“No, I mean it. One does not need to charm and flirt or make witty quips to be a marvel. What matters is what’s inside, and your unique perspective, both from being sick and all these years of watching people, reading about them...” He trailed off with a smile. “On one hand I am violently angry that no man before me had seen the treasure standing right before him. On the other...” He lifted her hand to his lips. “I am forever grateful that they did not.”
Oh. Oh dear.
Her heart took a flying leap and her lungs struggled to draw in air. What was she supposed to say to that?
She had no idea. But the most lovely thing she’d learned from being around this man is that she didn’t have to worry. She thought that maybe she could even begin to speak freely around him in broad daylight one day soon.
“In their defense,” she said slowly. “I did an awfully good job of hiding.”
He let out a bark of laughter that made her grin.
“In that case, well done, love,” he said.
Love. The word echoed instantly in her head and they wouldn’t stop, not even when he turned back to the passage and she focused once more on the novel until at last she found it, the page she’d been looking for.
With a slow smile, she realized what had bothered her the first time she’d read it. “May I?” She took the passage from him and confirmed her thoughts. She couldn’t help a laugh at the simplicity of it.”
“What is it?” he asked.
She shut the book with a triumphant smile. “I believe I know when and where our traitors are next to meet.”
Luke’s brows arched. “Already?”
She nodded eagerly. “It’s all right here. That scene takes place on a very particular day, time, and place.”
“Are you certain?”
“Of course,” she said. “Each chapter of the book is marked by a diary entry and date. And this particular scene occurs at midnight on a Friday at a particular garden in Hyde Park.”
“So, you think...” He blinked. “That was it? That was the message?”
“It’s so simple,” she said. “But actually quite clever. Taken on its own out of context there’s nothing to learn from the passage.” She laughed softly. “One would have to be familiar with the book or at least read beyond just that passage in order to understand what it meant.”
“And you’re certain that’s what our villain intended,” he said.
It wasn’t distrust in his voice, but curiosity. Her smile faltered, but in her belly, she felt it. The rightness of it. “Is this what instinct feels like?” she murmured to no one in particular.
But Luke laughed as he nodded. “Indeed it does. Your instincts are saying that this is the message our traitor intended for his cohort.”
She let out an unladylike snort. “Let’s say it like it is. Wendell meant this for his mistress.”
He didn’t so much as blink at that, but his gaze grew intent. “You believe him to be the traitor as well?”
She nodded. “I’ve known him for a very long time.” Her nose wrinkled. “Despite the airs he put on for my parents, I see through him. I always have.”
“See?” He smiled and the affection and pride there nearly made her swoon. “What did I tell you?” He reached out and cupped her cheek gently, his voice low and soft. “A marvel.”
Her lips trembled and her heart fluttered. “If you truly think so, may I come with you?”
He blinked and he dropped his hand. “Pardon?”
She wet her lips, and nearly forgot what she was going to say when his gaze dropped to follow the movement, his eyes darkening with desire as they focused on her parted lips. She swallowed hard and forced herself to focus. “I-I want to go with you. To the garden.”
“No,” he said, his tone suddenly more grim than she’d ever heard it. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I am. But I shouldn’t have involved you as much as I have. If your father found out...”
“But my father is precisely why I want to go,” she said. “They want me to marry him, Luke.”
He stared at her with wide eyes, and the dark emotions she saw there would have frightened her if she didn’t know they were on her behalf.
“I will never allow that,” he vowed. “But you must let me handle this, Lydia. This is no business for a lady.”
She reached for his hand. She needed him to understand how much this meant to her but just then the door swung open and Lydia pulled her hands back quickly. Even without their touching, she knew how this looked.
She winced slightly as Miss Farthington took in the dark room, the pulled curtains...the sleeping maid.
And then Lydia exhaled with relief when she saw her friend’s lips twitching with barely concealed mirth. She covered it well, though, and as Luke was not familiar with Miss Farthington, he did not seem to catch the fact that the lady was more amused than concerned.
He cleared his throat as he stood, his shoulders back and his head held high. The very picture of a storybook hero, Lydia thought with a dreamy little sigh.
“There was a draft, I’m afraid,” Luke was saying. His voice was calm and reasonable as he explained how this mysterious draft had blown out the candles, and why this draft had made it necessary for him to pull the curtains closed.
“I see,” Miss Farthington replied with a smile. And then with a mischievous glance toward Lydia, she added under her breath. “What a pity this forceful gust of wind didn’t wake your chaperone.”
Lydia swallowed a laugh. They’d gotten away with nothing...
But everyone was perfectly content to act as if they had.