The Lord’s Persuasion of Lady Lydia. Raven McAllan

you think?’

      Never. ‘No, I thank you, but it is not necessary, Mama, truly it’s not.’

      ‘No?’ You would have thought she’d refused three diamond bracelets and a tiara by the disappointment her mama displayed.

      ‘No, Mama, I neither want nor need a new bonnet.’ Lydia said patiently. Especially one like that. Why on earth does she think I would suit it? The bonnet in question was so large it would look as if it had been fashioned to hide her face from everyone and everything. Plus the brim seemed as if it was designed purely to hold enough flowers to stock a garden. ‘I have so many of Madame’s beautiful creations, I feel to have more would be greedy.’ There, surely that would pacify both women?

      ‘But what about the Gidleighs’ afternoon tea?’ her mama said mournfully, as Madame Lois, with an acerbic smile, curtsied her thanks, then went out of the room to look for more trimmings. ‘Surely you will want to look your best? Amelia told me that several gentlemen have been invited so it will not be all women chatting about their selves and their conquests.’ She made it sound like a happy surprise or a big treat. To Lydia it was neither.

      ‘I know,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘Josephine told me.’ Josephine Gidleigh, the daughter of the house, was a pretty young lady with an infectious giggle and a ready smile for everyone. ‘She hoped her mama had invited Lord Birnham as she has decided she has a tendre for him.’ And she would be much more suitable for him than I would. ‘She wonders if it is reciprocated, just a little.’

      Her mother looked at her closely. ‘I think not, he is so sought after. I had hoped you…’

      Lydia laughed. Little did her mother know. ‘Not a chance, he is not interested in me.’ Should she cross her fingers? It was so difficult. He appealed to her but… and it was a very large but. Something she needed to think through at a later date. ‘However, it is immaterial. The tea is over three weeks away and I won’t be here,’ Lydia pointed out. ‘You know that, Mama. It will be after my birthday, and I will be in Devon.’

      Her mama put the bonnet down and sighed. ‘Are you really sure about this course of action, my dear?’ Do you not want to… well, at least delay until the end of the season. After all, there are a lot of gentlemen who are actively looking…’

      ‘Mama, later,’ Lydia glanced meaningfully towards Madame Lois who had returned and was doing her best not to look as if she was listening and enthralled by what she heard. ‘We can talk later, once you have purchased your bonnet.’

      Her mama blinked and coloured. ‘Ah, yes. Perhaps I’ll have the green ribbons, on the other bonnet?’

      ‘A good idea,’ Lydia said and stood to one side while the Countess and the milliner completed their business. Within half an hour they were back in their barouche and making their way to the park where, as her parent put it, they could pull up and watch the promenading that went on, while chatting with any friends and acquaintances who chanced by. Most of the ton would appear at some point during the favoured time to see and be seen.

      Lydia sat back in her seat and prepared to be bored. The Countess leaned forward and her eyes sparkled as she arranged her skirts to her satisfaction.

      ‘Is that Lord Mackieson over there?’ she asked. ‘With Miss Johnson. Lord, her dress does not show her in a favourable light. Whoever told her that shade of puce was becoming to her?’

      ‘Puce isn’t becoming to anyone.’ Lydia decided she best add a comment while she could and thus make her mama think she was really listening, rather than catching the odd phrase or two. With regards to the horrendous colour of puce, she could reply emphatically. It really was not a flattering hue.

      ‘Oh, and Lady Dearborne is with Lady Linton under the trees,’ her mama continued. Lydia nodded and hoped it was the correct response.

      ‘I had thought they were no longer speaking after Lord Dearborne was purported to have spent no less than a half of one hour talking to Louisa Linton. That woman is a veritable man eater. I can tell you Jane Dearborne was not best pleased. Oh, and look, there’s…’ Lydia gave in to temptation and let her mother’s voice wash over her. She knew her mama didn’t really expect an answer. To her it was all exciting and part of her daily routine. To Lydia it was dull and a trial. Who cared what Lady D thought and said to Lady L? Who was interested in how Lord Whoever approached Lady Someone Else? As for Lady D and Lady L, they were as bad as each other. Everyone knew they both bed-hopped as they pleased and their husbands chose to turn a blind eye. Probably because they were doing the same thing themselves. It would never do for Lydia. Nevertheless, she continued to nod every so often to appease her mama.

      ‘So you think so?’

      ‘Ah…’ What had she agreed to? ‘I’m sorry, but?’ She smiled wryly, and the Countess sighed.

      ‘You don’t mean it, do you? In fact, I would hazard a guess you didn’t even hear what I said.’

      Lydia shrugged. ‘I apologise, Mama. I must be such a trial to you, but really I would rather darn stockings than be here, and we both know how bad I am at that.’

      ‘No, not a trial, just so difficult for me to understand,’ her mama said slowly. ‘I love you dearly, child, but I admit I’m at a loss, I really am. How can anyone not enjoy being here at the heart of everything during the season?’

      Lydia smiled and patted her parent’s hand, touched more than she could have imagined by her mama’s confession. She had always felt an oddity her parents couldn’t cope with. To hear her mama say she loved her daughter was something special. ‘I must be the exception to the rule. I love you too, Mama, but I can only be myself for all I wish I could be what you want.’ She sighed. ‘Ah well, soon you won’t need to worry over me. Less than three weeks and I’ll be my own responsibility in Devon.’ She intended to reiterate that fact at every opportunity she got.

      Her mother opened her mouth but happily Lydia was able to forestall her, as another carriage drew up and her closest friend, Esther Cranswick, waved from it. Dressed in the highest fashion on a shade of blue that suited her, Esther was everything the Countess wished her daughter to be.

      ‘Lyddie, shall we walk?’ Esther asked after acknowledging the Countess. ‘It is such nice weather for a stroll.’

      A reprieve. Lydia turned to her mama. ‘May I?’

      The Countess acquiesced. After all, Esther had married well, and Lydia knew her mama hoped Esther would introduce her to someone who, in the Countess’s words, Lydia would allow into her world. As long as it was someone of whom the Countess approved.

       Like Lord Birnham? Argh, get him out of my head. He would never find the real me attractive.

      Their coachman helped Lydia descend from the barouche, and within minutes she and Esther were arm in arm and walking sedately down the prescribed pathway for young ladies.

      ‘So,’ Esther asked as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘How is everything progressing, and what’s this I hear about Lord Birnham escorting you for a turn on the terrace at Lady Raith’s? Trust it to be on the one night I wasn’t there. I thought he had helped earlier? Tell me all.’

      Lydia squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘Truly, there is very little to tell. He did the pretty after that horrible Norbert Donkin almost knocked me to the ground when Donkin was so bosky, he didn’t even see me. Lord Birnham came to my aid. He was sober, of course. Lord Birnham, I mean,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘Or at least if he wasn’t he hid it well. Then at Lady Raith’s I turned my ankle after I stepped awkwardly on the lintel. Lord Birnham saw me limping and noted I looked a little pale. He insisted to Lady Raith that she tell me to let him escort me for a turn on the terrace. Said it would do me good. I had no option but to agree or cause a scene. I might annoy my mama a lot, but not intentionally, so we walked from one end to the other and then he very properly left me.’

      ‘Hmm.’

      Esther sounded sceptical, which, Lydia mused, wasn’t