Guilty Pleasures of a Bluestocking by Olivia Bennet

Author:Olivia Bennet
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2019-11-16T16:00:00+00:00

The Dowager Duchess was jittery as she rode the carriage back to the Tarsington manor. Opposite her on the bench, Florentina had launched into a breathless story about the comic songs of a street performer that Lydia herself had been there for.

She rubbed her eyes, forcing a smile. “Yes, my dear,” she said stiffly. “I was there, remember?” She loved her daughter more than life itself, but she’d be damned if she knew anyone who could talk quite as much. “Why don’t we play a game? Let’s pretend to be statues all the way home.”

Florentina grinned and nodded emphatically, immediately falling silent. Lydia allowed herself a faint smile. She had been playing the same game with her daughter since she was two years old. She was surprised it still worked now Florentina was seven.

She had not been expecting to see Miss Wilds and her mother today. It had been a shock to see how unkind time had been to the Viscountess. She had last seen Lady Chilson at her daughter’s burial. Three years later, the grief was still startling evident in her eyes, her face lined and weary, her shoulders hunched. Her once-blonde hair was almost entirely gray.

Lydia couldn’t pretend to be surprised, of course. Not after all the poor Viscountess had been through. There were so many questions she wanted to ask Lady Chilson. Questions that, of course, would be impossible to ever broach.

At the sight of Miss Wilds, Lydia had recognized opportunity. Leonard was clearly besotted with his pretty wife-to-be. Convince Miss Wilds to speak on her behalf and surely he would stop his foolish quest for the truth.

But Lydia could tell Miss Wilds had been unconvinced. Perhaps Leonard had shared his suspicions with her.

“I’ll do what I can, Your Grace,” Miss Wilds had said. But Lydia could tell she had no intention of doing a thing.

She was glad when the coach rolled through the manor gates. She needed a few hours of solitude in her sitting room. And a sizeable glass of wine.

“Was I a fine statue, Mama?” asked Florentina, as the carriage slowed to a stop.

Lydia forced a smile. “Very fine.” She accepted the coachman’s hand and climbed out of the carriage. “You played very well.”

Florentina skipped up the front steps ahead of her mother. “What’s this?” She pointed to a white page sticking out from beneath the door. She bent down to collect it.

The front door opened with a creak as the butler greeted them. Florentina shook the letter in front of him. “Look what I found! Someone put it under the door! It might be a secret message!”

“Who did this?” Lydia pressed, her eyes darting from the letter, then to their butler.

He frowned. “I don’t know, Your Grace. I’m sorry, I hadn’t noticed it until just now.”

“There’s no name on it,” said Florentina curiously. She made to open the page, but Lydia snatched it quickly from her hand.

Florentina murmured in surprise. “Mama, I—”

“There’s no name on it,” Lydia told her sharply. “That means it’s not addressed to you.

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