“We said we would not consummate the marriage,” she whispered aloud. A kiss was not a consummation, but it was a gesture of affection. Did it mean that his feelings towards her were changing? Did it mean that his heart was shifting?
And what did it mean for her? Her animosity towards him had changed, that was certain, but into what had it transformed? It certainly wasn’t love. She didn’t know him well enough for that although he did hint at family secrets.
“What happened to your father?” she said aloud as she tilted her head to the side. For a man who wanted to avoid scandals, his family seemed rife with them, and perhaps this should have been a foreboding sign, but something else he said had struck her.
Victor had never had a dream. It didn’t sit right with her. Every child should have had a dream, whether it was impossible or not. When she thought of John growing up and not having a dream, it nearly broke her heart, and part of her wished she could encounter Victor as a child and hug him tightly, telling him that he should feel encouraged to dream.
She wanted to make sure he dreamed now. It was never too late to have a dream. Perhaps that was something she could take heed of as well. After all, she was in need of a new dream.
Love had eluded her, and she still believed this despite what had just transpired. The kiss was just a kiss. It held no other significance. The only bond they shared was John, and he would not be with them forever. At least, this is what she told herself, despite the emotions swimming in her heart hinting at something quite different.
Chapter Twenty
Victor rubbed his bleary eyes. John’s piercing cries rang through the room. Victor yawned as he moved to the crib and picked the child up, rocking him back and forth. Victor mimicked the soothing noises Lydia made, and he tentatively sniffed the air, but as he moved into the soft glow of the hearth, he saw John’s lips puckering.
He was hungry.
“Georgia!” Victor called out. There was no response. Victor tried again, but still there was no response. He frowned and marched out of the room, holding the squirming baby in his arms. He was well rested although the strangest dream lingered in his mind. A soft presence had come to him while he had been sleeping. While he was not a superstitious man, he felt as though an angel had visited him.
“Georgia!” Victor bellowed. A door was flung open and frantic footsteps followed as Georgia rushed up to Victor.
“I’m so sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t hear you calling. These walls are so thick!” she said, taking John into her arms. She settled down and pulled her dress away. Victor averted his gaze. John had been whimpering and weeping in Victor’s arms, but he settled now that he had something to eat.
Victor breathed with relief. There was always something so frazzling when John cried, as though the entire world had been upended, and nothing could make things right.
“Did you sleep well, Your Grace? I didn’t hear the baby cry all through the night.”
Victor thought that she didn’t hear as much as she should.
“I stayed with him. He stirred once or twice, but it seems that he understands the value of sleep.”
“Oh yes, he’s a smart one, all right. I bet he’ll grow up to do wonderful things,” she said knowingly. While Victor knew she did not possess any great insight, he wanted to believe that she did. John may not have been his by blood, but he did feel a sense of pride when thinking about the man he might become. Was it too prideful to think that being around him would instill a sense of honor and ambition in John?
Victor wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t dismiss the idea.
Victor left John with Georgia and moved to the breakfast room. Lydia was already there, wearing a fetching smile.
“Is everything well?” she asked.
“He was hungry. I’ve left him with Georgia,” Victor said, waiting for the butler to pull out his chair before he sat down.
“Good. And how did he sleep?”
“Rather well, actually. Although I’m not sure I did my neck any favors by sleeping in the chair.” He winced a little and reached to the nape of his neck, pressing his fingers against tender muscles.
“I do appreciate you taking the time to sit with him,” Lydia said. Her gaze lingered on Victor in a way he found unsettling. A hint of a smile appeared on her mouth, and there was an expectant air about her although she said nothing. A slight arch of her eyebrows hinted at a secret, but he could not fathom what that might be.
As he waited for her to speak, the silence lingered. Lydia cleared her throat, as if to draw his attention, but when he looked up, she just had that same polite expression on her face again. He furrowed his brow, wondering if there was a promise he’d made or a message he was supposed to deliver.
“Is there something you wish to address?” he asked, thinking that in the end it was better to approach the matter directly rather than making assumptions.
However, this seemed to be entirely the wrong thing to say as Lydia’s features became pinched. The light faded from her eyes,and there was no longer a trace of a smile on her lips. She cleared her throat as she angrily spread jam on toast, and she did not meet his gaze.
“I suppose not,” she huffed under her breath which alluded to the fact that therewassomething, but for the life of him, Victor did not know what it could have been. He shook his head, deciding that he would never understand Lydia’s way of thinking, but while she had nothing to share, he did have some news.
“There is a ball in London. I would not ordinarily attend, but given the circumstances I believe it would be best for us to make an appearance. If we appear publicly together, then it might go a long way to quelling any nasty rumors.”
“When is this ball?” Lydia asked cooly.
