Inexplicably, his heart ached to see her like this. So...not the woman he thought he knew.
Because she wasn’t. Of course she wasn’t. That much was immediately clear when Sir Cedric made the introductions. “You’ve met my wife and my eldest daughter, of course.”
He discovered belatedly that he was smiling politely. At least some part of him knew how he was supposed to act, and he found himself going through the motions, nodding and murmuring something that he hoped sounded correct.
But all the while his heart was thudding wildly in his chest as his gaze met hers.
She peeked up at him, her mask a frustrating obstruction now because he couldn’t read her every emotion. Had she known who he was all along?
Had she been fooling him intentionally?
Confusion warred with disbelief, but no rational thoughts made it far. His heart was demanding attention as it kicked and revolted at this turn of events.
She couldn’t be Sir Cedric’s daughter. She was...
Well, she washis. That was the only way he could think of her, even though it made no sense whatsoever.
“I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my youngest, Miss Lydia,” Sir Cedric said.
If Sir Cedric’s voice was stilted and still held a tinge of anger, the ladies present didn’t seem to notice. Or the mother and eldest daughter didn’t. Miss Lydia, however, spared a curious glance in her father’s direction before glancing at him.
The glance barely lasted a heartbeat, but it was enough for him to see her panic. Her fear.
No.Something settled in his gut. No, she hadn’t realized who he was. That much was clear. She had a bewildered air about her, and her eyes flared with panic when her father said, “Lydia, have you met the viscount?”
Luke turned to Sir Cedric, but the other man was peering at his daughter.
He was suspicious...of Luke.
It was almost comical. Here he’d been trying to warn him about Wendell and yet here he was. The cad who’d all butaccosted his daughter alone in the park. And then on the street. And again at the park. And then he’d gone and claimed a dance.
He nearly groaned aloud, but then to his shock...Miss Lydia came to his rescue.
“We were introduced earlier,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper, and very nearly drowned out in this crowd. “Just before he asked me to dance.”
She cast him a sidelong look. She was lying. To save herself? Or to save them both?
Did it matter?
He’d put her in this position, and she was covering for him.
“Who introduced you?” Sir Cedric asked.
“Miss Farthington,” she said.
He blinked in surprise. He didn’t know the woman, but he knew of her, thanks to Richard’s ceaseless prattling.
“Your headmistress?” her sister said. Her tone was peevish, but she quickly covered it with a giggle and a broad smile. “My sister attends the School of Charm, you know.” With another laugh she added, “She needs all the help she can get, as I’m sure you noted during your dance.”
He opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say.
He’d already offended Sir Cedric by accusing his youngest daughter of espionage. He couldn’t exactly chide his eldest for being rude toward her sister.
And then he was too late because his Lydia was turning to her mother and whispering something that made the other woman frown, but then she gave a quick nod and Lydia slipped away.
There was no other way to explain it. She slid through the crowd like a ghost, and somehow no one seemed to notice her.
He felt as though his heart had gone with her.
