tired of them a long, long time ago,” he murmured.
The moment he’d fallen in love with Lydia, he’d committed himself to her completely. He’d not been a scoundrel…until after her. Only, the need to numb himself from the pain of losing her had driven him to a wicked lifestyle. All those efforts had been in vain. He’d been forever unable to forget her.
From across the way, he felt Lydia searching her gaze over his face. “Did you?” she ventured, a blend of curiosity and some doubt there.
“The more wickedness one is exposed to, the more immune one becomes to it, the less one is shocked or titillated or interested.”
Lydia cocked her head. “So, then, why are you here?”
He removed his cumbersome mask and tossed it upon a nearby table. “Mowbray’s son. We’re doing reconnaissance.”
The lady sidled over with the same agility she’d had as a girl. “Oh, this I have to hear, Geoffrey,” she said when she’d reached his side. Close as she was, he caught the merry little sparkle in her clear eyes.
He was no gossip, but she was not just any woman. She’d been his first and only love. The one who’d gotten away, forced to marry one of his friends. And as such, being here with her now, he slipped so easily back into the comfortable ease that had always existed between them. “Mardel is purported to be in love, and the boy’s father has worries about the suitability of the woman and the seriousness of the relationship.”
In an instant, the light in her eyes dimmed, her gaze grew stricken.
He wanted to call back his words.
God help him, even with all the time that had passed, he’d only just realized those old wounds weren’t really that old, and would likely never heal.
Clearing her throat, Lydia glanced down at her mask and then cast a look over to the door. “I should go.” Only, she didn’t make any attempt to leave. She remained rooted to this spot so very near him.
“Do you want that?” he asked hesitantly, not realizing he held his breath until she spoke.
“Oh, God, no!” She laughed, fuller and richer and deeper than the tinkling giggle she’d possessed before. He’d always been enraptured by the purity of her mirth. He’d not thought there could be a more magnificent sound. He’d been wrong. He stared on, hopelessly captivated. Lydia dusted tears of amusement from her cheeks. “Have you ever seen such a ridiculous affair?”
Actually, he had. Too many times. He knew better, however, than to say as much, particularly given the opinions she still carried about him.
“I trust Althea and Dorothy are behind your being here?”
Lydia pointed a finger toward him and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “You have it.”
Funny how so much time had passed, a whole lifetime in which they’d gone without so much as talking, and now it was like stepping back into something so familiar, so very comfortable. And yet, even when it had been comfortable with Lydia, there’d still been this… glorious thrill, one that remained still.
“Althea and Dorothy believed it would do me good to be here. A distraction, they called it,” she said, pointing her eyes to the ceiling.
Of course. That was right. God, what an unmitigated, selfish ass he was. “Forgive me,” he said. “I should have given my condolences on your loss.”
A deeper sadness filled Lydia’s eyes. “Thank you. He was… a good husband and father.”
“I knew Chombley would be.” When they’d been boys, Chombley had told Geoffrey of his love for Lydia, and swore that he’d someday marry her. He’d loved Lydia as Geoffrey had. Selfishly, Geoffrey had known the other man would be good for her and to her, but despite that, he had wanted her more. He’d known the late earl would have filled her days with happiness; a happiness Geoffrey and Lydia would have known had they not been pulled apart.
With a restlessness to her movements, she came around the sofa she’d tumbled from upon his arrival and seated herself.
He’d work to do.
There was information about Mowbray’s son to find out for the concerned father, and yet, Geoffrey instead joined Lydia on the seat. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. Too quickly.
“No, Lydia. How are you?” he repeated quietly, and a light sheen of crystalline tears filled her eyes.
She blinked several times, and his entire being ached at the evidence of her suffering and sadness. “I don’t even know what my life is anymore,” she said and brushed a tremulous