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“Did he open it, that you saw?”
The maid shook her head fearfully. “My lady, no, not that I saw. I am so sorry, have I done wrong?”
“Not that you were aware of,” Lydia sighed, closing her eyes. She covered her face with her hands. “I can only pray that he did not open it. How horrified he would be if he saw the contents!”
“My lady, is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head, waving the girl away. “No, no. That is all for now. Thank you, I appreciate your candor.”
As soon as the girl had gone, Lydia leapt up again, pacing the room. While thinking of what she could do to make sure her uncle had not read her letter, a knock came at the door. She threw on a wrapper over her dress and answered it, unsure if it might be the duke, or even her uncle.
However, the footman handed her a note from the duke, which she unfolded and hastily read. Relieved, she was more than willing to oblige his request for a list of her sisters.
“Wait just a moment,” she told the footman. She rushed to her desk, writing down the names hastily, blowing on the ink to dry it before handing it back to the footman.
As soon as he was gone, she paced again. If her uncle had read the letter, what would he do? Would he force her to return to London? Would he reveal her scandalous words to the duke and embarrass her? Would he be so enraged as to send her away to a convent?
She didn’t know and she dreaded going down to supper. Her head began to ache with the stress. Massaging her temples, she realized that she had no recourse and could only wait to see what became of the matter. Yet, waiting was the most dreadful thing that she could think of.
Another knock came to the door and her heart leapt again, the paranoia eating at her nerves. Taking a deep breath, she returned to the door and opened it slowly.
The same footman stood on the other side.
“My lady, His Grace asks if you would come up to his study for an important matter that he wishes to discuss with you.”
