Page 120 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘With your mother.’

For a moment, Lydia thought she had misheard or that Lady Phoebe was making a very poor, very crass joke. She turned sharply toward Ashford, who had gone quite as pale as if he had seen a ghost.

‘You wouldn’t,’ he said, voice choked.

‘I wrote to her.’ Lady Phoebe gazed resolutely at Ashford. ‘I thought she would understand, out of everyone, my desire to escape – and she did. She offered me shelter.’

‘But isn’t she—’ Lydia began.

‘She’s not dead,’ Lady Phoebe announced baldly.

‘Phoebe, don’t!’

‘Oh, she ought to know if she is to be your wife,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘My aunt did not die, Miss Hanworth, she ran away. Of course, we could not tell people that, could we?’

Lydia turned to look at Ashford, hardly able to believe her ears.

‘You told everyone she died? When she is alive, still?’

‘I did not,’ Ashford snapped. ‘I was only sixteen – but my uncles insisted, my father … She was everything to him. He could not face it. The shame of it would have been too much – it would have dogged us for generations.’

‘That is purest insanity,’ Lydia said, appalled beyond comprehension. ‘Have you seen her, since?’

‘Never,’ Ashford said.

‘She writes to him,’ Lady Phoebe said. ‘He does not even read them.’

‘Ashford,’ Lydia said. ‘That is—’

‘Do not speak of what you do not understand,’ Ashford said. ‘We could not have told the truth, it would have ruined us.’ He turned to Lady Phoebe. ‘As you risk doing so, too,’ he accused. ‘You have not considered the consequences. This is not just about you.’

‘Isn’t it?’ she said. ‘It is my life.’

‘So, we should all just go about acting in our own interests,’ he said. ‘Never mind duty and family and—’

‘What about me?’ Tears had sprung to Lady Phoebe’s eyes. ‘Do I not signify?’

‘I – I …’ Ashford pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. ‘I – I cannot. I do not …’

Lady Phoebe reached out an imploring hand. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘You must understand …’

He backed away towards the door. ‘I – I need to think,’ he said. ‘This is not – this cannot be the only way.’

‘Ashford …’

But Ashford’s hand was on the doorknob and in another moment he had gone.

There was silence, in his wake.

‘Well,’ Lady Phoebe said, with a sad little laugh, ‘that went better than I expected.’

‘Did it?’ Lydia asked, rather incredulously.

‘He believed me. There is that, at least.’

She walked over to a low sofa and sat down with a sigh. Lydia went to sit next to her.

‘I just hope Ashford can recover his calm before this evening,’ Lady Pheobe said. ‘Waldo is watching me more closely than ever – and once you all leave there will be nothing to distract him and’ – she was speaking faster and faster, thoughts spilling out of her in an anxious tumble – ‘and I do not know how I shall ever get away under such scrutiny!’