It Had to be the Duke - Christi Caldwell Page 0,25

I would have made mention of it?” That managed to briefly silence them, and Lydia took advantage of that small window. “Furthermore, need I point out that I am the one who ended it with Geoffrey? He didn’t end it with me, but rather, I broke it off with him.” A vise gripped her heart as she found, even all these years later, the pain of losing him, of setting him aside for another, was still as real and raw as it had been then. “So if you’d please, just stop treating Geoffrey as though he is some sort of villain. I chose him, but I didn’t get a real say in the matter, did I?”

That managed to keep the pair silent.

For a moment.

Dorothy rested a hand upon Lydia’s knee. “Your parents likely knew he’d break your heart. And he did.”

Yes, he had, but through no fault of his. Losing him had shattered her soul. Her throat moved painfully. For the first months of her marriage, Lydia had been melancholy and lost, fabricating a smile for the world’s benefit. All the while, she’d cried copious tears upon the shoulders of the two women before her. “Nay, what broke my heart was breaking his. My father, hating Geoffrey’s father as he did robbed me of,” The marriage she’d yearned for. “a future with Geoffrey.” She drew in a shaky breath. Yes, her life had turned out to be happy, her marriage a comfortable one. But none of that had meant her love for Geoffrey had ever faded. “Lawrence was a wonderful man, but he was never my soul mate.”

Her friends shared another look. “I’m worried about you,” Dorothy ventured.

“You needn’t,” she was quick to assure them. “There is absolutely nothing to worry about. The only reason I mentioned anything was because I thought you’d be happy knowing I was distracted last evening and that I had a wonderful time. Now, as dearly as I’d love to continue this discussion”—she jumped up—“I fear I have a meeting shortly with my daughter.” It was a bald lie.

One that, by the narrow-eyed glances cast her way, her friends sensed as much, too.

“Hmph,” her friends muttered as they came to their feet.

“You’re throwing us out,” Althea said, frowning at Lydia.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she lied as she opened the door.

Both women stared at her for a long while, before Dorothy gave a toss of her ginger head. “Very well. I see how it is. We shall go… for now. Come along, Althea.”

The moment they’d stepped into the hall, Lydia waved after them and then closed the door.

Quiet rang strong, and she welcomed it.

Clasping her arms behind her, Lydia stared at the now-empty room. She drew in a deep breath. She’d not known why she’d expected her friends to react differently than they had. They’d never made any bone of contention about how they felt where Geoffrey was concerned.

Lydia knew, in being manipulated into marrying Lawrence, she’d hurt Geoffrey far more than he had ever hurt her. Nay, her friends wouldn’t see that. As they’d pointed out, they recalled only the puddle of tears she’d dissolved into whenever they’d come ’round after her marriage. Secret sobbing, they’d called it. In those days, they’d always conducted their meetings in the music room, where Dorothy had played loudly so they could speak freely and so Lydia could cry. Yes, they’d been aware that Lydia’s parents had interfered in her relationship with Geoffrey, but they also recalled the friend who’d been inconsolable after losing him. Wrongly, they’d blamed Geoffrey for her broken heart, when really…neither of them had been to blame. Certainly, at least, not Geoffrey.

But after last evening, there’d just been an excitement, an anticipation that she hadn’t felt or known in so long that she’d wanted to share it with her friends. She was still capable of smiling and laughing and… feeling desire and passion. The joy of that discovery had made her overlook all the disapproval she’d face from her friends when they’d learned the reason for Lydia’s newfound and renewed happiness.

Either way, as she’d pointed out, that time she’d spent with Geoffrey had been fleeting. Yes, there’d been an explosive moment of passion and an acknowledgment of how wonderful the time together had been. But it wasn’t as though he’d suggested they see each other again.

And that profound urge to cry again left a knot of emotion in her throat.

Lydia sighed.

She far preferred the laughter and giddy lightness to… this.

Lydia stepped away from the