Do you take me for an unfeeling monster? I did not mean that and you know it. Duelling is illegal. The boys have broken the law and as a result a man has been killed, and he not one of the protagonists, which might have made it excusable.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ she cried. ‘How can you come here, when your son has deprived me of my husband…?’ And she began to weep, losing all the dignity she had been trying so hard to maintain. Lydia went to her and threw her arms about her. ‘Mama, Mama, don’t cry.’ And she too burst into noisy tears.
‘Susan, take your sisters away,’ his lordship said. ‘Your mother and I and Freddie will decide what is to be done.’
Susan prised Lydia from her mother. ‘Come, Lydia, we must find Annabelle and John. Goodness knows what mischief they will be up to while we have been in here. They are both too young to understand, but we must try and explain.’ She led her away, followed by the still-tearful Margaret.
Lydia never knew what was said by the three who were left behind. The only thing her mind fastened on was that on the day she lost her papa, she also lost her beloved older brother. He did not even wait for the funeral, but was gone that night.
‘It is for the best,’ her mother told her when she asked why. ‘His lordship cannot ignore the fact that the law was broken—’
‘By his son,’ Lydia put in. ‘Not Freddie.’
‘They were both at fault and Ralph has been banished too. His lordship has sent his only son and heir into exile. And now we must both go on with our lives without them.’
‘You sound as if you are sorry for the Earl.’
‘I am. It was not his fault.’ She took Lydia’s hand and tried to draw her closer, but Lydia resisted, too angry to draw comfort from her mother. Or give it either.
‘No, it was his Ralph’s. Freddie didn’t want to fight him, I know he didn’t.’
‘Now, Lydia,’ her mother said patiently. ‘We will have no more talk of fault or blame or anything else of that nature, do you understand?’
She nodded, but she did not understand. She might say nothing in front of her mother, but she would never forgive Ralph Latimer for what he had done. Never. Never. Never.
Chapter One
March 1763
T he Victory Ball, to celebrate the end of the seven years of war which had been waged between half the countries of Europe and which had now come to an end, was going to be the biggest occasion the little port and market town of Malden had seen for years, even though there were many who said it was not a victory but a shameful compromise. Anne had decided she would attend with her daughters, Lydia and Annabelle. Finding suitable gowns for all three was going to be a problem, but Anne found an old trunk in the attic, which contained gowns she had worn years before in their more affluent days, and brought it down to her boudoir.
From it she drew a sack-backed pale pink silk which had yards and yards of good material in it. ‘The colour will suit Annabelle,’ she said, pulling it from its protective covering of thin cotton. ‘And here is another that will remake.’ She delved into the trunk again and pulled out a yellow watered silk with panels of darker figured brocade. She held it up against Lydia’s slim figure. ‘Yes, perfect for your dark colouring. I wore it when I was your age, the first time I met your papa. It has kept very well, though it is very out of fashion. We will remake them both.’
‘What about you, Mama?’ Lydia asked.
‘Oh, my grey and lilac stripe will do very nicely. After all, I am only going to escort you and at my age it would not do to go looking like a peacock, would it?’
Anne was by no means old and she was still very beautiful in Lydia’s eyes. If it had not been for her large family and lack of wealth she might have remarried, except that she always said she had no wish to do so. ‘I am content as I am,’ she said, when anyone suggested such a thing. Lydia wondered how true that might be but knew it would do no good to question her. Instead she smiled and spoke about how they would remake the gowns.
Annabelle could hardly contain her excitement as she and Lydia set to work unpicking the old garments while their mother searched through copies of the Ladies’ Magazine for suitable patterns. ‘Oh, I am so looking forward to it,’ she said, eyes shining. ‘My first ball. I cannot wait.’
Lydia smiled indulgently. ‘No doubt you expect every young man there to fall at your feet.’
‘Oh, do you think they will? Oh, Lydia, would it not be wonderful if we could both find husbands there?’
‘There is plenty of time for that. And we are unlikely to meet anyone of consequence. It is only the Assembly Rooms after all, and everyone knows everyone hereabouts.’
‘There might be someone new to the town—surely, now the war is over, the officers will be coming back home.’
‘You are too impatient, Annabelle,’ Lydia said. ‘Why, you are only fifteen.’
‘Sixteen next month,’ her sister corrected her. ‘And you are eighteen. It is time you thought about marriage, for you should marry before me.’
‘I am in no hurry.’
‘You may not be,’ their mother put in, as they sat side by side over their needlework, their dark heads almost touching. ‘But most young ladies are married by nineteen. To delay longer will make everyone think you too particular or that there is something wrong with you. And I will not have that. You are comely and intelligent and I have brought you up to your proper duties. It is time to be thinking seriously of whom you might marry.’
‘I have not met anyone I think I should like, Mama, and I would rather earn my living than jump too hastily into marriage.’
‘Earn your living! My goodness, I never heard anything so outlandish. Why, your grandfather was a baronet and he would turn in his grave, if he could hear you. We are not of that class, Lydia, even if we are poor…’
‘Are we poor?’ Lydia asked, in surprise.
Her mother sighed. ‘I had hoped it would not come to this, but now I think I must tell you.’
‘Tell me what, Mama? Oh, do not look so stern. Have I done something wrong?’
‘No, dearest. But we have been living off the income from investments ever since your papa was taken from us so suddenly. There was never a great deal, but stocks have gone down and I have had to encroach on the capital. It is dwindling at an alarming rate. There will be no dowry for you, I am afraid. You must make as good a marriage as you can without one. It is not what I had hoped for you…’
Lydia was shocked; she had not known things were as bad as that. Her mother was always so cheerful and practical, though she abhorred what she called extravagance. It was no wonder, if they had so little money. And yet she had never stinted her children of anything they really needed. What a struggle it must have been for her!
‘Oh, Mama, why did you not say? We could have recouped, eaten a little more cheaply, bought fewer ribbons and lace. Done without the chaise.’
‘And
