Hearing that he had been here, in this house, talking to her husband, sent a bolt of panic to Lydia’s heart. If there was anyone she did not want embroiled in this plan, it was Elliot and his hopelessly romantic, hopelessly optimistic ways.
She glanced at Lucille who pretended to continue reading, though Lydia could see the tension in her shoulders and the discomfort across her features. Lydia pushed her needle through the cotton, her lips tighter than ever.
“I had heard something, yes, but we must discourage it at all costs. I have tried, Elliot, really I have, but to no avail. That girl will not listen to reason.”
Elliot took a sip of his brandy and smacked his lips together. “Discourage it? But why? He is a decent chap, and a duke to boot! I think they make a wonderful match.”
Lydia’s head shot up, and she glared at him. “Match? What on earth are you talking about, Elliot? They are friends, nothing more.”
“Ah, but there you are mistaken my dear.”
He shifted forward on his seat and rested his elbows on his knees. Lucille had given up all pretense of reading and was now openly listening to them, and Lydia herself clutched her embroidery so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. Her husband had best not have ruined things for her. She had the entire plan laid out, and it was going to benefit everyone. Well, except maybe Charlotte and the duke, but that was of no importance.
“Mistaken how?” she asked in a dark tone.
“Oh!” He chuckled. “Sorry, I haven’t told you, have I? The Duke of Ashbourne has asked for Charlotte’s hand in marriage. She has said yes, of course, and I have given my full blessing. Tomorrow, we shall begin organizing the wedding in earnest! Isn’t it terribly exciting? We haven’t had a wedding in the family since… well, since we were married, I’d say.”
“Exciting? Exciting!” Lydia cried out with exasperation, throwing her embroidery onto the couch and getting up to pace the room. “You don’t know what you’ve done, Elliot Fairchild. You are an old fool sometimes.”
“Come now, Liddy, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”
“No I do not think,” she snapped. She was so furious that her head wobbled as she spoke. “That man is not suitable for Charlotte!”
“But why not? He will raise her status significantly, and he seems to genuinely love her. I believe he will care for her greatly. Besides, you must consider her age, Lydia. She is not so young any longer, and time is running out.”
“But the Duke of Ashbourne!” she cried. She turned on her heels as she reached the far end of the room, then returned to him in her pacing. “What exactly do you know of him?”
“Not a lot, admittedly, but—”
“Exactly! Honestly, Elliot. The man may be a duke, but it is a title alone. He is weighed down by debt. He is penniless! He is marrying Charlotte for her money and no mistake.”
Elliot tutted as Lydia marched back up the room. “I don’t know how you could know such a—”
“It is common knowledge, Elliot!” she cried. “Isn’t it, Lucille? Tell him!”
“I… er, yes,” Lucille sputtered from the corner of the room. “It is quite well known throughout the ton that the Duke of Ashbourne inherited the title at the worst time. He has nothing.”
Elliot chewed on his lip for a moment but soon shrugged and returned to his usual, happy expression. “I understandyour concerns, my dear, I really do. But he is very clearly a good and honest man. I know true love when I see it, and he loves Charlotte truly. While I am certain her inheritance is something of an attraction for him, I promise you it is not the only one. I don’t mind that he is penniless, as long as he is a man of good character. And that I believe him to be. Now, shall we celebrate with dinner this evening?”
Lydia sat back down and shot him a dark look. She had to change his mind, or she would lose everything—and she wasn’t willing to lose a single thing. “You never have been good at reading people, Elliot.
His Grace has a way of convincing people he is of good character, as most paupers can, but that does not mean it is true. He is playing a game with Charlotte. He will marry her, use her for whatever he wants, take all her money, then leave her with nothing but humiliation, sadness, and a broken reputation. Is that what you want for your niece? Is it?”
Elliot let out an awkward chuckle. “I think you are being a little dramatic. Where on earth did you get all those ideas?”
“Because he did it to me.” Lucille’s voice in the corner was small, weak, but Lydia breathed a sigh of relief at her interruption. Perhaps with two of them arguing her case, Elliot might actually listen.
He shifted on his seat and looked over at Lucille. “Whatever do you mean, young lady?”
“I am sorry for being so bold,” Lucille said, putting on her very best simpering voice. “But I can’t bear to see Charlotte subjected to the same things I was. We have become such good friends in the past weeks.”
“Your boldness is forgiven,” Elliot said harshly, “but you must explain yourself this instant.”
Lucille cleared her throat, and Lydia marveled at the girl’s acting abilities. She would be able to convince any man of anything.
“I thought he loved me,” she said. “He promised me the world, but he left me with nothing. I helped him pay off some debts with money handed down to me after my father’s death. I did it because I believed he loved me and that we would be married.
But soon after that, the duke became distant and unfriendly until finally, he called off our engagement. He stole my money and my honor, Lord Fairchild, and ruined my reputation. I can see the very same thing playing out with Charlotte. Please, I beg of you, don’t let this happen if you love your niece at all.”
