It Had to be the Duke - Christi Caldwell Page 0,38

be alone. If there is someone who brings you happiness, then you should be with him.” She paused. “That is, if he is good and worthy of you.”

“He is a good man.” Despite the scandals that surrounded his name and the children he’d sired and only recently learned of. He sought to be a father to them. And he’d forgiven her for passing him over and had wished her happiness anyway. “But… he asked me for help with a matter. I’m not even certain he wants more.”

“What about what you want, Mother?” Caroline asked at her shoulder, and Lydia glanced over. “If he is what you want in life, and he makes you happy, then I suggest you take your happiness. You make it your own.” A tremulous smile tilted Caroline’s lips up. “Father would have wanted that for you. To be happy.”

Tears filled Lydia’s eyes. “Please, don’t cry,” Miranda implored, brushing at her cheeks.

“I’m not crying.” Lydia sniffled and turned her cheek into her elbow. “All right, I am a bit.”

But hearing her daughters speak of Lydia reaching out and taking the future she’d always wanted beckoned. It tempted. For the first time since the day when she’d said goodbye to Geoffrey and set aside the hope of a future with him, the dream stirred, flickering to life.

She wanted him.

She wanted a future with him.

And why, if he wanted that, too, should they not have a future together?

Then reality reared, as it invariably did.

Because you betrayed him.

Because you hurt him.

Her hope flagged.

“What is it, Mother?” Caroline nudged.

“I broke his heart.” Unable to meet either of her daughters’ eyes, Lydia stepped away and wandered back toward the table and stared blankly down at the teacup she’d made for Geoffrey. She picked it up and stared at the delicate porcelain he’d briefly sipped from, drawing it close to her chest before catching herself. “He wished to marry me, and I…” She stumbled. “I chose your father over him.” She left it at that, choosing to omit the details of her severed relationship with Geoffrey.

No daughter need hear that one’s mother’s match was not the one she’d wished for, but had, rather, been born of obligation and tears and sorrow. Nay, it would be far better if they believed the choice had been Lydia’s and that the union had always been one born of love and joy.

“Why can you not begin again?” Caroline suggested. “Start over?”

“We’re old.”

“Yes, but even older people are deserving of happily-ever-afters,” Miranda piped in.

Lydia flashed her daughters a droll smile. “You were supposed to insist I’m not that old.”

Her daughters spoke in swift unison. “You are not—”

“Oh, hush,” Lydia interrupted, waving a spare hand at them. She softened that dismissive gesture with a wink, earning a round of soft laughter from her girls.

A knock sounded at the door, and they looked to the front of the room as Glenn stepped inside. Clearing his throat, the old butler swept over, a missive extended. “Forgive me, my lady. This arrived a short while ago, and I was told to deliver it at once, as it is a matter of urgency.”

Lydia’s eyes immediately connected with the familiar gold seal. A crest of a lion rearing on its hind legs in midroar.

Her heart danced even as she took that page with a word of thanks, and Glenn bowed and rushed off.

Feeling her daughters’ eyes upon her, Lydia wandered away, presenting her back to them.

Lydia,

I’d ask to speak to you.

Will you be so good as to meet me to discuss a matter that is long overdue, and in need of attending, this evening?

Ever yours,

Geoffrey

A matter that is long overdue and in need of attending.

Lydia turned the note over in her hand. That was all.

He wished to speak about his newly discovered children. Of course. And while she was both touched and grateful that he’d not only confide in her and allow her to help him as he did, she’d selfishly wished his note would be about… more.

“What is it?” Miranda asked at her shoulder.

Folding the missive, she turned back and faced her daughters. “It is… nothing,” she said, unable to fight the deflated feeling. “He wishes to speak with me about business he requires assistance with.”

“Well, neither does that mean his dealings with you need just be about… whatever important business he requires your assistance with,” Caroline, the most optimistic and always lightest of her children, piped in. So very much the hopeful girl she’d been. “It can be both.” Younger sister looked