Page 26 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

He was not going to let it go – she had to give him something.

‘Forgive me. It is just this is all so very new to me.’ She gestured around them, at the portraits, the gallery, Hawkscroft itself. ‘I confess I have been all of a quiver, ever since I arrived.’

‘Yes, I noticed,’ Ashford said.

‘You did?’ She widened her eyes again. ‘But I have been trying so very hard to hide it!’

‘Even so,’ Ashford said. ‘What is it that you find so daunting? Perhaps I can help?’

Oh, lord. What was she meant to say now? She had not planned for this.

‘It is everything,’ she said. ‘There is so much I do not know.’

‘It is not so complicated,’ he said. ‘We are not born with the knowledge – we all learn.’

‘You do not wish to marry someone who already knows it all?’ Lydia was genuinely curious. He must know that she was not the most likely choice, however well she had behaved back in London. ‘A lady who is already prepared for such a life … surely that would have been easier?’

She expected him to offer her a piece of flummery, some empty flattery entirely in keeping with what she knew of his two-faced character, but Ashford surprised her again.

‘A troubling number of those ladies are my relatives,’ he said confidingly.

Lydia was startled into laughter. She had not thought him to be amusing.

‘If we ever once shared a nursery, I do not wish to marry them,’ Ashford went on, smiling too. ‘A little rule of mine, you see.’

‘Incest is not quite as a la mode as it was,’ she agreed, and this time he was the one to laugh. She had never seen him do so, before. It changed his face entirely and for a moment, she felt she understood better why he was so widely held to be charming and—

Lydia stopped her thoughts in their tracks. What was going on here? Were they bonding? No, no, no!

‘I do find it difficult to understand why you chose me,’ she said abruptly.

The smile slipped from Ashford’s face.

‘If you regret it,’ she continued, ‘I wish you would tell me.’

The words were not premeditated, but in the moment all she wished was to jolt them away from the easy warmth that had looked about to form.

‘I don’t …’ Ashford broke off, looking away and down. Was he emotional? Surprised by her frankness?

‘Miss Hanworth, I would not have asked you to marry me,’ he said, ‘if I did not wish for it.’ He looked back toward her. ‘There may be much for us to learn about one another, but I am looking forward to it.’

He seemed so sincere, so heartfelt. Lydia held his gaze, struck despite herself. She did not know what to say.

There was the clearing of a throat. Reeves had approached without either of them hearing him.

‘The riding party has returned,’ he said. ‘Lady Phoebe wishes to inform you that refreshments are being served on the terrace.’

‘Thank you,’ Lydia said.

‘I can make your excuses,’ Ashford told her, ‘if you would prefer to rest or … change.’

‘No, no.’ Lydia shook her head, seeing out of the corner of her eye the ostrich feather droop still further. ‘Let us join them.’

Ashford did not argue with her. They turned together to leave the gallery and then, so casually and subtly that Lydia would not have noticed had she not been paying him quite so much attention, Ashford reached up and tweaked her ostrich feather back into place.

And that was – well, it was kind. The apology: that too was kind. It was all rather kind, wasn’t it?

And in the face of it, Lydia began suddenly to feel rather cruel.