“I have been trying to tell you this for a long time. Life is to be lived, not to be frittered away, and I’m glad that you have finally learned the lesson. It really is wonderful to see you married although I’m upset that I couldn’t make it to the wedding. I suppose there was a reason for you to expedite matters,” he said this with an uncertain smile.
Lydia rubbed the back of her neck and glanced at Victor again. She wondered if she should correct Theodore’s assumptions.
Victor leaned towards her and spoke in a deep voice. His hand rested on the table, close to hers. So closely, she could almost feel the warmth emanating from his skin and her hand began to tremble, tempted as she was to move it towards him although she had no idea why this should be the case.
And when he leaned in, the air became spiced with his fragrance. It took on a new life, all heady and masculine, a sense of raw power that swept over her and threatened to leave her gasping for air.
“I shall correct his mistaken assumptions at the earliest opportunity. I do not feel as though it is appropriate to discuss the particular details of our situation at the dinner table.”
Victor’s voice was a low thrum. It caused susurrations to flow beneath her skin. Beads of sweat gathered at her temples, and she only breathed when he leaned back. The air was clear again, but her heart was still beating quickly.
What was it about him that led to this reaction?
“That is why I extended an invitation to you as soon as possible, Uncle. I was dismayed that you could not attend, but such matters could not be helped,” Victor said.
“Such is life,” Theodore said with an affable shrug. “At least you had Harry there. Where is he by the way?”
Victor looked sour.
“He decided to remain in London for a time. I believe he had some business there.”
“It’s nice to see him knuckling down. He did worry me there for a moment, but… well… I suppose we should not discuss that either. Here’s to discretion,” Theodore said and raised his glass. Victor and Lydia both reacted to the toast, and again Lydia was aware of just how close her hand came to Victor’s.
“No, we should not,” Victor agreed.
Lydia’s ears perked up, and she wondered to what they referred. For a man who sought to avoid scandal, it seemed as though Victor’s family had their fair share. Then again, Lydia supposed it could not be helped. She had been privy to other scandals in her own family life although, somehow, she never thought that she would be embroiled in one herself.
Not wishing to disrupt the pleasantness of the evening, Lydia did not poke at Victor and ask about these matters. Instead, she asked Theodore to share more stories about Victor’s childhood. `Theodore was more than happy to do so.
“Victor was a fastidious child. Most children wouldn’t think twice about getting muddy, and as a case in point that wasentirely true of Harry. But Victor hated it. He always tried to avoid playing in the mud, and he insisted that a spare set of clothes be brought with him wherever he went, just in case they needed changing. However, one day that change of clothes was forgotten, and it had been raining the previous day. Harry was always a mischievous boy, and he knew how to upset Victor. He threw a clod of mud at Victor, ruining Victor’s shirt.”
“That sounds like Harry. I’m sure he would do the same now if he had the opportunity,” Victor said dryly. Lydia was smiling and a chortle was not far from her lips.
“Well, Victor, of course, asked for his clothes to be changed, or it would be more accurate to say he demanded it. But there were no clothes. He was told that he would just have to deal with it for the time being until they returned home. I will never forget the look on your face, Victor. You had the most serious expression.”
Theodore straightened his back and adopted a haughty tone.
“I cannot remain in this condition, you said, and then you just stripped off the rest of your clothes as though there was nothing to it. You would rather have been as bare as the day you were born than wear a dirty shirt.” Theodore laughed, and Lydia joined in. Victor turned as red as a beetroot.
“I think you have had enough port, Uncle. There’s no need to tell stories that are designed to humiliate me,” Victor said.
Theodore sighed. “Nobody is humiliating you Victor, and they are the same stories your father would tell if he were still here.I know I am a poor substitute, but I shall try my hardest to fill his shoes. Now then… what other stories are there…” he said. He started to slur his words, and a haze came upon his eyes.
“Perhaps we should retire,” Victor suggested.
“I don’t think it’s time for that yet,” Lydia argued.
Victor then turned to her and arched an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you would like to regale us with some stories fromyourchildhood. Or do I have to wait until your family visit?”
“You will be waiting a long time. I never did anything embarrassing,” Lydia teased, lifting her nose. Victor wore a disbelieving look.
“Ah yes, the Hartley’s. A fine family. I knew your parents fleetingly. What a shame their passing was. Too many good people leave this world to soon, and the rest of us… well… we are left trying to ensure that we make the most of the time we have, but in the end, we end up carrying a lot of regrets with us,” Theodore said, his voice softening to a melancholy tone.
Lydia’s head dropped at the mention of her parents. The jovial mood quickly dissipated, and a heavy sorrow clung to her heart. It had been easy to feel close to them while living in Stonewood Manor as everything reminded her of them, but in Nightford, there was nothing of them other than what she carried with her, and somehow that did not seem like enough.
“What do you regret?” she asked quietly.
A wry smile crossed Theodore’s face. “It’s funny you should mention that, Lydia. I regret never finding happiness with the love of my life.”
