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Chapter Twenty
With his demand to provide a blessing for their engagement, Michael found his heart racing. He knew lying to Lydia’s uncle and asking for permission was perhaps the boldest he had been in perpetuating their engagement.
However, he almost felt remiss, thinking that the moment he asked for his blessing under a false pretense. He thought, very briefly,not like this-but shook his head.Not ever.
“Of course, I give my blessing,” Francis said. “We would not be here now if I did not condone the match.”
A brief frustration flowed through him with the viscount’s nonchalant response. It was as though Francis had cued Michael up as a bit of a power play. The anger welled within him, but he pushed it down, telling himself that he imagined the slight.
“Tell me then, viscount, what is the amount that each of your nieces’ will be provided for their allowance?”
“Only about six thousand pounds to split among the five of them,” he answered.
Michael raised his eyebrows, surprised at the small sum. When he glanced at Lydia, her surprised expression suggested that even she had not heard the amount.
“Is that from their mother’s dowry?”
“Most of it, but my brother did lay about a thousand pounds or so with the sum.”
Michael stroked his face, studying the board for a moment longer. As he thought, he noticed Lionel and Ranora stepping out of the house, heading straight for them. Francis did not seem to notice them until they came close to their table.
“This is a game I would not mind watching,” Lionel said cheerfully.
Ranora sat next to Lydia on the bench, fanning herself with an ornate fan. She looked on the game with a sour look.
“Nephew, I had no idea you knew how to play chess.”
Barely glancing at her, without turning his head, he kept his focus on the board. “I’m sure there are many things you do not know about me, aunt.”
“Come now, dear, you must remember Michael and I playing chess for hours during the winter nights,” Lionel said.
“I must be remembering you playing with your son,” she mused.
“No, no,” Lionel protested. “Joseph had too much of a temper to play with his old man. Especially as I would not go easy on him.”
Michael was just about to make his move when a footman approached them, carrying a tray with a letter.
“A note for you, Your Grace,” he said, bowing.
Taking the letter, he nodded to the footman, who backed away. He tore open the seal, barely noting that it came from the speaker of the House of Lords. After reading the first line, he rubbed his face and looked over to Lydia.
“I’ve been requested to return to Parliament,” he explained. “I’ve been skipping sessions, as I normally do. However, the speaker has said that my presence is required for the next vote.”
Her face fell dramatically, surprise and sadness washing over her.
“I do believe that I will need to be in the city for the rest of the week,” he continued. “I am terribly sorry, Lady Lydia but we need to cut your visit short.”
“I understand,” she said, trying to force a mask over her emotions.
“That is such a shame,” Ranora cooed, but he detected a look of satisfaction in her expression. After Lydia told him how Ranora had made her feel, he felt as though he could see more of her attitude, her mannerisms, which could be interpreted that way. He may have gotten used to her throughout his life, but others likely would be bristled by her behavior.
Michael folded the letter and tucked it into his breast pocket. “Viscount, I do apologize to cut our game short, but I must prepare to leave at once.”
“Not a worry,” Francis said, standing and buttoning his coat. “I suppose we shall as well.”
Looking back at Lydia, the disappointed look on her face cut straight through his heart. He could not bear the thought of returning to the city without another moment alone with her. He could not tell her there, in front of her uncle, that he wished to speak to her in private, to kiss her again.
Throughout her visit, he had thought that once they returned to the city, their engagement would be over, and they would resume their lives like before the lie. She would need to find a suitable match, and he would go back to his roving ways.
