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“I am so very sorry, Miss, do forgive me. I do hope that you are well ... are you?” the person who had bumped her said. Lydia finally regained her balance enough to look up and see who it was who had collided with her, and much to her equal delight and mortification, she saw that it was Percy Wentworth.
The moment their eyes met, Lydia’s cheeks went redder than a ripe apple. Her heart began racing, her thoughts began swimming, and she could not rightly form any semblance of a sentence for the time being. And so for what felt like an eternity, Lydia just stared at Percy silently, and he continued looking at her with care and concern on his face.
Finally, Lydia regained her faculties enough to respond.
“Sorry!” she shouted rather loudly, and Percy jolted upon hearing her volume. “I ... I’m quite well, thank you. How are you?”
“Don’t worry about me, it was my two left feet that got us into this situation in the first place,” Percy responded, smiling in such a way that made Lydia positively melt. It was at this moment, however, that both parties realized they were touching. Percy and Lydia’s eyes both went to their hands, and when they saw that they were still holding onto one another, they immediately broke apart.
Lydia tried to stay calm and keep her emotions in check but found it increasingly difficult. She could not believe that not only was Percy in attendance tonight, but he was also talking to her. She could not have dreamed up a more perfect meeting between the two of them. This was everything she had ever hoped for, and she wasn’t going to let some insignificant thing like her emotions ruin it.
They stood slightly apart for a little longer, their attention wandering from each other to the dancers a short distance from them. Lydia tried to take in deep breaths and reassure herself that this was normal, and she could do it.
She was not, however, going to be the one to re-start the conversation. Although she was bold, she was notthatbold, and she knew her place in the world. It was Percy’s responsibility to speak if he wanted the two of them to talk.
“Have we met before?” Percy finally ended up saying rather casually. Out of the corner of her eye, Lydia could see that he was still watching the dancers and not making eye contact with her, and so she followed his lead.
“I don’t believe that I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” Lydia lied. She figured that it might frighten Percy to suddenly have this woman who remembered every detail of the single interaction they’d had as children. So, instead of telling him the truth, she allowed herself the chance for a better introduction.
Percy tore his eyes away from the dancers and faced Lydia.
He bowed low with his head tucked and said, “I’m the Duke of Wexley, Percy Wentworth.”
Lydia curtseyed as low as she could to show her admiration for Percy, and then responded, “I’m Lydia Seymour, daughter of Rodrick Seymour, the doctor.”
Upon hearing her father’s name, Percy’s eyebrow shot up. “You’re the daughter of Dr Seymour? I hear he’s a very fine man and an even finer doctor. That is a fascinating profession. Do you ever have the chance to accompany him on his rounds?”
Lydia felt her interest in Percy blooming in her chest as a sunflower would in the summertime. She could not believe that her mouth had cooperated for long enough to introduce herself without stuttering, muttering, or generally stumbling over herself. She could believe even less that Percy was showing any interest in, of all things, her father’s profession.
However, Lydia was actually quite fond of her father’s work, so she was delighted to speak about it, especially with him. “I’ve visited a great number of patients with him over the years. Father says that the families he tends to are always happier to see him when I come along, but I think that he might just be saying that because he likes my assistance.”
“Have you really?” Percy replied, looking genuinely interested. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and knitted his brows together as if that would help him to focus on what Lydia was saying more intently. “Miss Seymour, this is a very impertinent question to ask a young woman, especially one who I have just met, but I simply must know; what are your father’s thoughts on bloodletting?”
Lydia took in a hesitant breath and did not answer. Many, many physicians widely practiced bloodletting, and it was the expected treatment for a great many ailments. Lydia knew precisely how her father felt about it, but she was hesitant to explain as she did not wish to alienate the man who she had longed to pursue for many years. She decided to reply with, “How do you feel about it?”
Percy sighed and bobbled his head from side to side, looking back and forth as he did. “My opinion is not a popular one, which is why I have longed to hear what your father thinks on the subject, for I know he is a well-respected, intelligent man. But since I asked, I suppose I shan’t force you to speak about it first. Quite frankly, I think it is barbaric, and we should abolish the practice of it entirely.”
Lydia let out a huge sigh of relief. “That is precisely how my father and I feel. And as we are amid an improper topic of conversation, I shall explain why we feel that way.”
Upon seeing the way that Percy was eating up every word she said in regards to bloodletting, Lydia launched into her re-telling of the night that she and her father had been called to attend a birth at the Inverwyld residence. This was far from common practice. Dr Seymour met a great deal of resistance from the male members of the household upon his arrival, but when he laid eyes on the young woman labouring, Ethel by name, he immediately attended to her.
Ethel was suffering from an unknown illness. She kept wailing about the pounding in her head, the painful swelling in her ankles, and that she could not keep any food down to give her strength.
Dr Seymour attempted bloodletting in a final attempt to save the life of both the mother and the baby, but it only exacerbated the problems. Ethel had died while giving birth, and the baby had been lost in the process. Lydia’s father swore off bloodletting from then on.
When Lydia completed telling her story in the most delicate way she could, she looked at Percy expectantly. She prayed that she had not gone into too much gory detail about the incident, but was also very aware that speaking of death during the first conversation with a potential suitor was just ... unheard of.
However, Percy was utterly engaged. “I am so dreadfully sorry that happened to your father, but I am encouraged to know that he no longer practices that ‘cure’. If he had attended to my father on the night of his death, he might still be here today.”
Lydia was taken aback.How is it that we are speaking about death and loss in our first conversation together, and yet I have never felt as instantly connected with anyone in my life? He’s being so open and vulnerable, should I ask him more about his father?
Lydia did not have time to respond, however, as at that moment, another good-looking young man approached Percy from behind. “Percy!” the young man cried as he passed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight, or I’d have brought you that book you lent me.”
Percy cocked his head slightly to one side and looked at the young man sideways.
“I loaned you a book? Which one?”
“You know,” the man responded, “that silly one about the potential for using small doses of illnesses in the body to try and immunize the individual against a more virulent form of the disease? I don’t believe a word of it, but it is good for a laugh!”
