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Lionel eyed Michael skeptically. “You are in a cheerful mood today, Michael. I dare say your engagement has brought about a change in you, indeed.”
“You were right, Uncle,” Michael said, his eyes dancing playfully. He smiled overly-fondly at Lydia. “Perhaps the love of a good woman was all I needed to take up my responsibilities.”
Lionel and Ranora traded a look between them, which Lydia caught, but the difference between them stood out to Lydia. Lionel seemed genuinely happy, believing Michael’s story, but Ranora seemed skeptical.
Remembering that Michael was, indeed, acting, Lydia found herself getting sick to her stomach. She sat down her fork and picked up her napkin to wipe her mouth carefully. Feeling foolish for letting herself get carried away in Michael’s excitement, she tried to temper her expectations for the day by taking a deep breath to clear her head.
“I thought we’d start with a walk in the gardens, after breakfast,” Michael said, finally. “I’d like to slip away soon, though, if you are done?”
“Yes, I’m quite finished,” she agreed.
Michael rose, so she followed him up. He offered her his hand, which she took, letting him escort her from the room.
“Do we not need a chaperone?” she asked, out in the corridor.
“Things are not nearly so structured out here in the country,” he told her. “We’re under the watchful eye of many servants, with family all around. Besides, we know that there are no hidden alcoves or dark hallways where gossips may hide to find their prey.”
“Still, the servants may talk.”
“Gossip does not go nearly as far here, either.”
After a long moment, Lydia asked him, “Your aunt and uncle seem like such nice people. You seem quite intent on deceiving them.”
“I’m sure they want what they think is best for me,” he said, his face darkening. “However, we seem to have different opinions on what that is.”
“What do you mean?”
He didn’t respond as he opened a door out to the back of the house and into the gardens. The carefully trimmed hedges were lined with flowering trees of all different types, all in full bloom. She occupied herself with smelling each different type and color of flower, pretending that she did not mind that Michael would not respond to her question.
“Tell me how you have not secured a match before this Season,” he demanded.
She did not turn to look to him, pondering how to respond. She debated not responding at all, given how he evaded her questions.
“Perhaps, I am not a good match,” she said.
“I do not believe that.”
She did turn then, raising her eyebrow at him. “Why do you think so?”
“Other than exquisitely beautiful?” he asked, grinning down at her.
“I’m genuinely curious as to how you think I would be a good match.”
Staring back into her eyes, he seemed to be considering her question carefully.
“You are from a good family. You are attractive. You make for good company. Not to be severe on your sex, but many men would not ask for more in a wife.”
She turned back around, trailing her fingers over the soft petals of the flowers lining the path. Looking up, she took in the scene. Gardeners were watering plants and pulling weeds. Servants from the house were passing back on the paths, parcels in their hands. The business around her confirmed what Michael had said: they were not truly alone.
“Has not a single man ever proposed to you?”
“Not officially, no.”
“But someone has gotten close?”
She moved on down the path, Michael following her.
“There have been a few young men that have expressed interest, over the years. Called on me, courted me.”
