Page 136 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘Ashford,’ Lydia said in a very low voice. ‘Ashford, what should I – how should we—?’

But he did not appear to hear her, and Lydia did not even quite know what question she wished to ask. Oh, how she wished they had spoken before.

‘Yes, yes,’ His Grace continued with Lady Phoebe. ‘I am particularly intrigued by this explorer character of yours.’

Lady Phoebe pouted. ‘Oh, I must disappoint you. It is the strangest thing. I left him with Colonel Lynton for the merest moment and the next time I saw him, he declared he was leaving! Urgent business. I am so terribly sorry.’

It seemed Reeves had been quite right about von Prett – for if the captain’s history was as he claimed it to be, what reason would he have to flee the company of his old colonel?

‘Not to worry, not to worry in the least!’ His Grace said. ‘The more important task is this announcement. How might we best achieve such a thing?’

Oh, lord! Lydia widened her eyes meaningfully at Ashford. He must ask his father to delay. They could not countenance any of this, before they had spoken.

‘Announcing the engagement, you mean?’ Ashford said calmly, reaching into the pocket for his snuffbox. Lydia fought a scowl. Could he truly not muster the smallest bit of urgency?

‘I am not sure …’ she began, throwing a pleading glance in Lady Phoebe’s direction.

Lady Phoebe leapt to assist. ‘Perhaps we should wait a little while?’

‘Oh, the poor souls have tarried long enough,’ the duke overrode her rather ruthlessly. ‘It is my fault, for requesting such secrecy. I must confess,’ he said, leaning in and speaking in confiding tones, ‘I did so on the fear that Ashford might have tricked me into approving a marriage of convenience.’

Lady Phoebe let out a tinkling laugh. Lydia felt her expression became fixed.

‘Did you?’ Ashford said, taking a pinch of snuff calmly up to his nostril.

Lydia blinked. In that moment, he suddenly far more resembled the arrogant stranger who had proposed to her with such maddening calm, than the man she had come to know these past ten days. Why had the presence of his father altered him so?

‘I mean no disrespect, my dear.’ The duke availed himself of Lydia’s hand and gave it a smacking kiss. ‘A parent’s prerogative – and of course, now I know there is nothing to worry about. I saw it at once!’

‘Saw what?’ Ashford asked, a frown marring the neutrality of his expression.

‘Why, love, of course!’ the duke said. ‘Come, there is no need to balk. I have been watching you two waltz together and one cannot perform love such as that.’

Lydia’s breath caught. Dear lord. It was the matter she herself had been intending to raise, but – not in such a way as this before they could themselves even touch upon it. And yet … To hear that someone else thought it, too …

‘No,’ came Ashford’s voice from beside her. Lydia turned her head, very slowly, to look at him.

‘Exactly!’ the duke said.

But Lydia did not think Ashford was agreeing with the statement. His face was no longer calm, but wooden, his eyes glassy. Lydia felt her stomach drop.

‘The way you looked at one another …’ The duke sighed mistily. ‘It reminded me of how your mother and I used to do so.’

Ashford’s face blanched.

‘The announcement, then!’ the duke clapped his hands together again.

‘No,’ Ashford said, more emphatic this time. The vice around Lydia’s heart clenched further.

‘Ashford?’ She reached out to tug his sleeve. If they could just speak, just the two of them, for a moment, she might draw him back from whatever precipice he was suddenly standing on – but he would not look at her.

‘Feeling shy, Ashford?’ the duke teased. ‘You needn’t be – everyone loves a love story; it will go down a storm, I promise.’

‘No,’ Ashford said, louder. ‘No, I – Father, you mustn’t.’

That caught the duke’s attention. ‘What, my boy? Whyever not?’

‘I cannot,’ Ashford said.