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Her breath caught in her throat, crumpling the paper in her hand. She laid a hand on her chest as though she could calm the pulse racing below her skin. She quickly strode to the chaise, sitting down before she fainted to the floor.
Someone indeed knew what she had written, or worse, had seen or heard her with Michael the day before. She was going to be ruined before she could marry. But who would leave such a note? Who would know? Her uncle was the only one that she could guess would know the contents.
She uncrumpled the paper and looked at the writing critically. To her eye, the handwriting did appear masculine. From what she knew of her uncle, he had always kept his thoughts and opinions to himself. His outburst to her mother had been the most animated she had ever seen him. Perhaps, he was so disgusted by her that he could not bring himself to speak of it to her face, therefore resorting to writing this note.
But why would he leave it unsigned?
The door latch turned, so Lydia quickly crumpled the note again. Her maid stepped in.
“My lady, may I assist you in dressing for supper?” she asked.
Lydia stood, feeling the soreness in her body. “Yes, if you would, please bring some hot water for me to wash.”
* * *
Lydia slept in the next morning, waking stiff and aching from her horseback ride the previous day. She had slept terribly. She sat down to her writing desk, remembering that her letter to Trinity had never made it to her.
Trinity,
It has come to my attention that a salacious letter I wrote you the day before yesterday may not have made it into your hands. I am terribly worried who might have intercepted the contents. Additionally, you have not been informed of my latest adventures.
I will not go into the details I had written previously, reserving them for a time when I can catch up with you in person. I have learned my lesson for what belongs in a letter that can be easily intercepted. I suspect uncle has had a hand in this, and if I am right, then I suspect that I will hear of it soon.
Worse yet, just yesterday I received a note saying that I would be exposed for my wanton ways. I cannot bear to think of how we all might be ruined for my momentary lapse of judgement.
I do believe that there is no hope for me yet. If I make it through the end of the Season with my reputation intact, then I may retire myself to some convent, such that the rest of you may marry and have the happiness you deserve.
I shall not try to convince you that I do not deserve such harsh treatment.
Please tell me how the Season fares for the rest of you. I am happy to hear of Johanna’s acceptance of Mr. Weller. The duke and I called on him and the thought of their wedding is my solace now. I can only hope for the same salvation for you, Marcia, and Lucretia.
I look forward to your next letter.
Your sister,
Lydia.
Putting her pen down, she rested her head in her hands for a moment. The aches in her body made her dread going down to breakfast.
When her maid came in, Lydia asked, “Would it be possible for me to have a bath?”
“Oh, my lady, I can take you to the bathroom,” she said. “Give me just a moment, I’ll have a bath drawn for you.”
Relief flooded through her.
“Thank you, yes. Perhaps a tray for breakfast? Can you inform His Grace that I’ll be indisposed this morning?”
“Yes, my lady,” she said, dipping into a quick curtsy.
The maid was only gone a few minutes before she returned, gesturing to Lydia to follow her down the corridor.
The bathroom was on the back side of the house, nearer to the kitchens. When she arrived, a warm bath had already been drawn and a screen placed for privacy. Her maid helped her to undress from her wrapper and shift. As Lydia lowered herself into the steaming water, she let out a sigh.
The water was almost so warm that it was painful, but as she grew acclimated, the warmth helped to sooth the pain in her thighs from the ride the previous day. Dunking her head under the water, she held her breath for a moment, relishing the feeling of warmth on her face and around her neck.
“Do you need any assistance, my lady?” the maid asked.
“No, thank you,” Lydia said sleepily. “Please, if you would, just leave me the soap and a sheet for drying. I think I might be here for a while.”
