He held out his arm to her. She looked surprised for a moment, but he could think of no reason why she should be. Things weren’t romantic between them, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of behaving like a gentleman.
She took his arm and smiled. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go. Do you know what’s being served for dinner?”
“Pheasant, I believe. Does that suit you?”
“I like pheasant,” she said. “We had it often at home, although my parents didn’t like to see me express a preference for any one food over another.”
“What!” He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You know, some of their rules seem strict to me, but this one just seemssilly, Lydia. What’s the harm in you saying you prefer certain foods? Are young ladies not supposed to have preferences?”
“Well, no!” Lydia laughed. “It never occurred to me how strange this was until very recently, but that’s exactly it. They didn’t want me to have any food preferences because if I preferred something that was in opposition to the preferences of the gentleman I married…”
“I see. They were concerned that you might like pheasant, but Iwouldn’tlike pheasant, and it would lead to me feeling as though I had to serve a dish I didn’t like if I wanted to please my wife.”
“Something like that.”
“Is that how it is between them? Your mother never lets anything be known about herself for fear that it might inconvenience your father?”
“No, that’s not the way they are,” Lydia said. “My mother is unafraid to be herself. But the two of them had an arrangement from the time they were very young. They always knew they would grow up to be married to one another, so they never had to worry about it.”
“I see. Did they think that no one would wish to marry you if they didn’t make you into someone as unobjectionable as possible?”
“Perhaps they thought that,” Lydia said. “I think their main concern was simply a desire to make it easy. They knew that itmightbe difficult to find me a match—not necessarily because of anything about me, any flaw in me, but just because such things can be difficult sometimes. They wanted to make it easy.”
“But don’t they understand that they were making it harder for themselves by removing everything that makes you unique?” Edward asked. He felt frustrated by the whole thing. Everything he was hearing felt wrong. “My favorite things about you have nothing to do with how easy and convenient you are. To tell you the truth, if that was their goal, they failed because I don’t find you very easy or convenient at all.”
Lydia nodded. “They wouldn’t be happy to hear that,” she said. “But I don’t think they would be very surprised, either. They’ve known for a long time that they failed to control my more rebellious side.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Edward said. “But wouldn’t they be glad to know that you were able to settle into a successful marriage anyway? That your rebellious tendencies were no hindrance to your securing the life they wanted you to have?”
“I don’t know,” Lydia said. “I think they would say that I was running the risk of losing you by making myself a burden. They wouldn’t be happy with my behavior since I’ve been at Westfrey, I can tell you that for certain.”
They’d reached the manor.
“Do you want to change before dinner?” Edward asked.
“I think that would be a good idea,” Lydia said with a smile. “I’m sure I must smell of horse!”
Edward laughed. “Are you saying I smell of horse?”
“You do, a bit.”
The two smiled at one another, and Edward was surprised anew by how much fun he was having with her. If he had known it would be like this, he might not have had such reservations about marrying in the first place.
They went up to their rooms. Edward changed quickly and came back down, knowing he would be ahead of Lydia and hoping that would give him the chance to speak to the kitchen staff and to let them know that pheasant was a dish they ought to try to serve with regularity if they could. Now that he knew Lydia liked it, he was eager to make it a standard offering.
But when he got back down to the foyer, he was intercepted by the butler.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Bradford said anxiously, “we weren’t sure what to do. I know they aren’t expected, but they insisted on staying for dinner…”
“Who?” Edward asked with a frown, for no onewasexpected today. “Who’s here?”
“The Duchess’s parents, Your Grace,” Mr. Bradford replied. “Lord and Lady Haddington. They’re waiting in the doorway.”
Edward looked over his butler’s shoulder. Sure enough, his wife’s parents stood there, looking every bit as if they belonged.
He closed his eyes. Having just finished hearing all the things Lydia had had to say about them, he was sure she would prefer a dinner without their company. But how could he turn them away? It didn’t seem a decent thing to do after marrying their daughter.
“I’ll speak to them,” he muttered. “Thank you, Bradford.”
