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He had not even known Lydia for three days, and the idea of losing her jolted him like a cascade of frigid water flung in his face. “She did not tell me, no.”
Scarlett made a rude sound. “Wanted to ‘take the child away from her mother’s mistakes’ he said. As if he had any idea what kind of mother Nora was, nor her situation.”
He found himself harboring a wish that he had not been as courteous as he had been in his letter. Had he known what Scarlett was telling him now, he suspected he might not have written it at all. He took a deep breath and forced his emotions under control. “It is to be hoped that he will change his mind. Regardless, he will not be taking Lydia away from here.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” Scarlett tossed her head. “Now then, I’m going to get some fresh water for Nora and the wee one. And we’ve got a busy day, or so I gather.”
“Quite.” He watched her pass, then made his way back to the family apartments.
Breakfast, slightly less than an hour later, was a far more entertaining meal than it had been since his boyhood. Lydia was wide-eyed and full of energy, asking questions about everything from the food on the various platters to various random questions about favorite foods, favorite colors, and anything else that crossed her mind. The shyness that had been present earlier was all but gone, a testament to the child’s good nature and apparent recovery from the illness that had so worried her mother only a few days prior.
It was not something he had imagined before, a child at his breakfast table, but he rather thought it was something he could willingly become used to.
Briefly, his mind strayed to thoughts of the future, and the dream of a child with Nora’s blue eyes and his own golden locks, sitting beside Lydia. Or perhaps, a child with his green-gold eyes and Nora’s dark tresses.
It was an entrancing thought and held his attention so thoroughly that he did not at first realize his mother was calling him until a sharp “Arthur!” brought his attention back to the present.
He recovered his composure and smiled sheepishly across the table. “Yes, Mother?”
She huffed. “I was only telling you that we must do the planning this morning. This afternoon the dressmaker will be returning. She has some more dresses for Nora, and of course Lydia and Scarlett shall need new wardrobes as well.” She turned to Scarlett. “You know, my dear, it is terribly rude of me, but I never did ask—have you a surname to use as well?”
Scarlett smiled. “It’s no great matter. But my surname is Brewer, if you like, though I don’t use it much these days.”
“Scarlett Brewer... it is a good name.” Abigail nodded once as if in affirmation. “It suits you quite well. Have you any formal education?”
Scarlett shifted as though she might shrug but stopped the motion in time. “I know how to read and write and manage numbers, more or less, and I’ve learned a few odd things here and there in my work. But I wouldn’t say I was much educated.”
“Well, we shall work on that. If you can read, you can learn. But a governess should be reasonably well-taught. Fortunately, you’ve some time to increase your understanding.”
“I can help with that.” Nora spoke up from her chair. “I believe I still remember many of my lessons.”
“Very good. Now…” The Dowager’s gaze shifted slightly, then softened with a fond smile. “It appears that you are done with your meal Lydia?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The child in question nodded.
“In that case, perhaps Miss Scarlett might take you out to the garden for a walk while your mother, Arthur, and I talk.”
Scarlett took the hint and stood. A quick application of a damp cloth to remove the jam from Lydia’s face, and the two disappeared through the door. His mother watched them go before turning back to himself and Nora. “Now then, what shall we do in regards to your wedding?”
* * *
She had known they would be discussing wedding plans, but still the question from the Dowager took Nora by surprise.
Even when she had accepted Arthur’s proposal, she hadn’t really thought about the wedding itself. At first, it had been because she saw no point to having anything more than the most basic observance, given that Arthur had suggested an ‘in name only’ marriage. What point was there in ceremony when there was no intent to observe many, if any, of the traditional rules of a proper marriage?
After that, events had simply moved too quickly for her to properly process all the meanings and interconnected matters involved. The idea of planning a true wedding, rather than simply posting the banns and having a small ceremony witnessed by perhaps Scarlett and one or two of Arthur’s friends, had simply not occurred to her.
And yet, Abigail did ask me about invitations at the dinner.
She had forgotten Abigail’s question in her panic over Scarlett’s message and Lydia’s illness.
Arthur was the first to speak. “Have the notices been sent?”
Abigail gave her son a primly amused smile. “Of course. I had Bradstone arrange their delivery before I retired last night. The first reading of the banns shall be in three days’ time.”
“All right. Then I suppose we must decide on the place and time.” Arthur considered before turning to her. “Have you a preference?”
“I should like a month, so Lydia and Scarlett and I may become used to the change in our circumstances. And I suspect your church would serve our needs better.”
