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“Pleased to meet you gran’father.” Lydia smiled at him, and Nora saw her father soften just the slightest bit.
“Likewise.” He dipped his head once more.
The awkward silence that seemed ready to settle over them was broken by Bradstone’s arrival with a tray of refreshments. Seats were taken, tea and biscuits served, with juice for Lydia, before the butler withdrew.
They sat and ate in what was almost companionable silence, broken by Lydia’s occasional question to Scarlett. It was only when the last morsels had been consumed that her father set aside his cup. “Your Grace... you said you intended to marry my daughter.”
My daughter.A spark of hope lit in her soul. He had not referred to her that way since their parting four years ago.
Arthur nodded. “That is correct.”
“And take her child—Lydia—to raise as your own?”
“Yes. She will be Lydia Russell.”
Her father nodded. “And this wedding... it is not being rushed due to... indiscretions?”
It was only Nora’s warning look that stopped the outburst Scarlett clearly wanted to release. For her part, Nora felt her stomach clench. Though she had expected the inquiry, it still hurt that her father could have such suspicions of her.
“There have been no indiscretions on either side. Any perceived haste can be attributed to my deep affection for Nora and my desire to have her as my life companion, my partner in all ways, as soon as possible.” Arthur’s voice was firm, businesslike, but his hand crept across the distance that separated them to take hers in a comforting grip.
That grip gave her the courage to find her voice. “I would like for you to attend, both of you, as well as my sisters. And father, I would like very much to have you give me into Arthur’s care on that day. But it can only happen if you can accept my choices and my daughter.” She inhaled slowly and continued. “I know you did not approve of my choices. Perhaps you do not agree with them, even now. But I had my reasons for doing as I did, and I have done my best to live according to the values you taught me. I only wish to know, here and now, if there is any chance that we might find common ground and some way to repair the rift between us so that Lydia might know all of her family.”
A long silence followed her words, and then her father sighed, the stiffness of his shoulders relaxing for the first time.
‘You always were a headstrong child.” He sighed again. “When you left, I expected you to come back within a few days, apologetic and obedient. When you did not, I was sure you had succumbed to a life of sin and dishonor. But even so... I never formally disowned you. Your name is still in the family records, and I never went before the church nor posted the notice in the papers. I am glad now that I did not.”
A wash of emotion rushed through her. Relief that she could still call her parents so. Anger that he had maintained the charade left her destitute for four years. Hurt, remembering all she had done to try and avoid bringing shame to the family and how he had responded until he had discovered that she was marrying a Duke. Her father and mother’s presence in her life was everything she had wanted, dreamed of, and mourned in the last four years, and now... now, she could only feel confusion and the uncomfortable suspicion that it was her future status as a Duchess that her father was willing to accept, rather than her person.
In the end, relief won, even if it was tinged with sorrow and hurt that she thought might never fully fade. “Thank you, Father.”
Her parents left soon after, taking with them Arthur’s promise to send the invitations to their London home, along with the invitations for her elder sisters as soon as they were written, and promising to visit again soon.
Once they were gone, Nora collapsed back on the nearest seat, her head spinning. Before she quite knew what was happening, tears were streaking her cheeks, all the confusing emotions produced by the brief meeting spilling out in a torrent of aching, tangled distress that she could no more have explained than she could have explained why the moon was round rather than square.
Arthur and Scarlett were at her side at once, with Lydia leaning against her knee and looking up with worried eyes. “Mama hurt?”
She swallowed and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief Arthur handed her. “No, dear. I’m not hurt. It has just been a very long time since I’ve seen my parents, and I feel a little overwhelmed.”
“And no surprise that, with everything going on.” Scarlett handed her a glass of water to sip. “You deserved an apology, that old…” She broke off with a glance at Lydia.
“It doesn’t matter.” She wondered if she was being honest, even with herself, but could not stand to say anything else.
“If that’s the way you feel, I’ll hold my tongue. Just don’t ask me to trust or like that man.” Scarlett huffed.
“I certainly shan’t. Arthur interjected his own opinion dryly. “But family is family, and I am glad, if only for your sake Nora, and Lydia’s, that the possibility of reconciliation exists. Perhaps in time, the relationship might yet be mended.”
“Perhaps.” Nora looked at the faces surrounding her. She thought of Bradstone, who was undoubtedly hovering somewhere nearby, and of Abigail, who was waiting in the family wing, having decided that her presence would do more harm than good for today’s meeting.
Or perhaps I have here all the family I shall ever truly need.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Arthur studied his reflection in the mirror critically, then reached up to adjust his cravat. There was one fold that wasn’t quite right…
A hand slapped his away from the offending neck-wear. “Leave that alone, Arthur. There’s nothing wrong with it.” David huffed in exasperation. “But there will be if you don’t leave off trying to adjust it every five seconds.”
Arthur scowled at his best friend and Best Man. “I want everything to be perfect.”
