Going Rogue (28 page)

“That’s sad.”

He took the bait. “Why?”

She closed her book, setting it on her lap. “Well, she seems to care a great deal for you.”

He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the direction their conversation had taken. “We were once good friends.”

“You were more than that. She loves you.”

Derek claimed the spot next to her. “Miss Marshall . . .”

“I thought you were calling me Ophelia now. I’m all about progress, Derek.”

“Ophelia,” he started again. “That was a long time ago.”

“It’s obvious the two of you are still very fond of each other.”

“It’s not that obvious.”

She shook her head. “I’m a scientist at heart. I speak based on fact.”

Derek didn’t bother arguing.

Ophelia picked up the book and flipped to a page she’d dog-eared. “Did you know there are plants that look as if they’re something else entirely?”

This was hardly an appropriate time for a lesson. “You don’t say?”

“Like this orchid.” She handed him the book. “It’s not native to England, but this particular species looks as if a bee has landed upon it.”

“Interesting,” he remarked, studying the rendering a bit closer. He supposed the least he could do for the dear girl was to play along for a few moments.

“It’s still a beautiful flower, though.”

“I suppose it is,” he remarked, his curiosity actually piqued. “Why does it need to do that, to look like something it’s not?”

She took back the book and started thumbing through the pages. “You’re showing promise of being a true scientist now.”

“I am, am I?”

“A natural curiosity for things. That’s what motivates a true scientist. You stop at nothing to know the reason behind something.” She shoved the book under his nose. “Third paragraph down.”

He read the passage, then handed the book back. “So, it’s for protection?”

“Quite a clever orchid, don’t you think?”

“It would appear so.”

“And all you had to do was look for the answer.” Ophelia sighed. “If only all of life’s little answers were indexed as concisely.”

Suddenly, he realized this wasn’t just another lesson in botany. It was a lesson in life.

He smiled to himself. Ophelia Marshall would indeed make one lucky gentleman very happy one day.

He couldn’t help but wonder how much easier things with Meredith would be if all he had to do was flip through a few pages in a book to discover why she did the things she did. Really, in Middlebury, her life
had
been an open book, but now . . .

Ophelia redirected her attention back to the book she held in her lap.

It was his cue to leave.

Derek walked back to the house, lost in thought.

Chapter 34

The trip to Lydia’s added several hours to their journey, giving Meredith plenty of time to tell Alex about how she’d found herself in London, her mother’s history, and Cynthia’s ultimatum.

And she told her about Derek.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Alex said. “All these things happening at once, so close to your birthday. The changes with Aunt Cynthia, your childhood love coming back into your life . . . it’s almost as if it’s fated somehow.”

Meredith snickered. “You can take the girl out of the Highlands . . .”

Alex nodded. “But you’ll never get the Highlands out of the girl? I suppose there’s a Scot underneath this fine English accent after all.”

“Next, you’ll be talking about fairies and demons.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.” Alex let her head roll back against the cushion. “I’m still an educated woman, so I know better than to believe in all that. But I do think sometimes there’s a bigger plan. Try as we will, the path we choose isn’t always the one we’re destined to be on. And I also think events such as these are how we get back to where we’re supposed to be.”

Meredith rested her head on the back of the bench, contemplating her friend’s words, allowing the rhythmic swaying of the carriage to carry her off to sleep.

Aunt Lydia’s home was small and neat. Her furnishings were modest, but lovely, and it was evident the house had been decorated with taste, not money.

It was nothing like Cynthia or her mother had described.

Lydia had been surprised by their impromptu visit, and gracious. She offered the two a room to share for the night, as well as a smaller room off the kitchen for Mrs. Nelson.

Meredith felt guilty accepting such hospitality after years of thinking the worst of her. Even though her aunt’s kindness hadn’t yet absolved her of all guilt, Meredith was finally willing to give her the opportunity to speak her piece.

It was more of a chance than anyone from her family had given her before.

“Again, we do apologize for stopping in like this.” Meredith followed Lydia into the drawing room. “We just happened to be in the area and hoped it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Lydia sat down, inviting them to join her. She was as lovely as she’d been that day in London, wearing a plain navy dress with very little decoration. Her blond hair was a shade darker than Meredith’s, but the family resemblance was unmistakable.

She handed Alex a cup of tea. “And any friend of Meredith’s is more than welcome in my home.”

“Thank you, Lady . . .”

Lydia shook her head. “It’s
Mrs.
Keyes. My husband was just a merchant. But please, do call me Lydia. I hate such formality. Especially with family and friends.”

Meredith and Alex exchanged quizzical glances.

Lydia wasn’t even titled. All the talk about marrying a rich, titled man—none of it had been true.

Meredith cleared her throat. “Your home is lovely.”

Lydia smiled demurely, humbly accepting the compliment. “Thank you. It belonged to my husband’s family. They’ve been so supportive since his death. They’ve allowed me to keep this home and seen to my allowance.”

“I’m sorry to hear you’re widowed,” Alex remarked.

“It’s been a few years now, but it’s still hard. We had a good life together, and I’m eternally grateful for the time we had. That’s why I’m leaving for Italy. His family is there and I’d feel better just being close to them.”

This was nothing like the fortune-hunter both Cynthia and her mother had described. This woman clearly married for love, not for money. She was a gorgeous woman, after all, and easily would have had her pick of London gentlemen. Yet she’d settled—no, chosen—to marry a simple man. And even after his passing, remained unmarried.

A true fortune-hunter would have moved on and secured her next income before the poor man was cold.

“If you don’t mind me asking . . .” Alex started.

Meredith gripped the sides of her chair, bracing herself for whatever it was that Alex was going to say. Her friend was never one to mince words.

“Why did you leave the Ribbons?” Alex leaned forward.

No Ribbon
would dare say Lydia’s name in public, but behind closed doors, the rumors flew. She’d been brought into the group with the intention of being their leader, under her aunt’s guidance of course. And by all accounts, she’d been an excellent choice. But one day she simply gave it all up. Cynthia told the Ribbons that she’d turned her back on them, running off with a rich man in search of a better life.

Meredith held her breath, waiting.

Lydia nodded. “I know what they say. That I left London for the continent and that I sunbathed nude in the Mediterranean . . .”

“Did you?” Alex asked, a bit too enthusiastically.

“Of course not. My existence is quite mundane compared to the gossip.” And just like that, Lydia dispelled all the rumors in one fell swoop.

Meredith couldn’t help but notice Alex’s shoulders sag a little in disappointment. It was always hard learning the truth behind a myth. The truth was rarely as impressive.

She couldn’t help but think about Derek in that regard. A pirate, savvy business owner, man of the world—had the real Derek been able to stand up against his reputation?

“Then what happened?” Meredith asked, candidly.

Lydia eased back in her chair. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” Meredith craved truth.

“Aunt Cynthia invited me to London when I was younger.”

“I was under the impression that
you
asked Cynthia,” Meredith countered.

Lydia stood. “Would you care for some port? I think I should like some very much right now.”

Alex nodded, but Meredith rejected the offer, simply wanting to get on with it all. “Did you then?” Meredith probed.

“I didn’t. I actually had no desire to leave Middlebury. You see, there was a gentleman I favored.”

“But why?” Alex asked. “If you didn’t want to leave, why did you?”

“My father didn’t have very much. He’d done a fine job raising two girls without my mother. We were provided for well enough, but there was nothing extra. Except for daughters—he had two.”

“More prized than cattle if they’re beautiful,” Alex remarked between sips. “That’s what my father always says.”

“He’s right,” Lydia agreed. “You can fetch a pretty sum with a pretty daughter. Cynthia was married to an ailing man, so she had plenty of available time to invest in her own interests—the most important one being
the Ribbons.
She loved them, and all they represented.”

Lydia looked down at her glass, studying the burgundy liquid as she spoke. “It’s not for me to tell you
her
story, but Cynthia had done well for herself and constructed quite the life in London. Your mother Jane and I were most envious.”

“So, when Aunt Cynthia came to visit, we were both desperate to return with her. But her husband would only allow one ward, not two.”

“Shouldn’t Jane have been the one to go? She was the eldest,” Alex said.

“Exactly,” Lydia explained. “But Cynthia requested that my father send me instead. He told me she thought I’d fare better in London. Jane was pretty enough, but I had the blond hair and fair skin. Jane was also quite emotional, and I was a bit more even-tempered. The idea was that I’d marry well enough so I could send for Jane as soon as I was able.”

Meredith didn’t speak. She listened to the description of her mother and as much as she wanted to argue, to stand in defense of her, she couldn’t. There was no denying that Lydia was a diamond of the first water, whereas her mother was only ever
pretty
.

She’d gone to the Ascot once and Cynthia, always fond of gambling, explained that when you bet on a horse, it was best to choose the finest one of the lot. If you put your money on the strongest and the fastest, you’d fare better.

Lydia had been the finer horse.

“I didn’t want to go.”

“Because of your gentleman?” Alex looked out the corner of her eye at Meredith.

Lydia didn’t seem to notice. “Yes. We loved each other, but I thought at the very least I needed to give Town a fair chance—for my father’s and sister’s sake. So I went to London, and within the week, I was certain that I hated it.”

“You hated it?” Both Alex and Meredith repeated in unison.

“It was awful. I hated all the dancing, the gowns . . .
the Ribbons
.”

Meredith waited for Alex to faint from the shock. She’d never heard anyone speak crossly about the Ribbons and was certain that it would be impossible for someone like Alex to understand how anyone could choose a quiet country life over the excitement of London.

“I asked if I could go home. That’s when I learned that Cynthia had been paying my father a stipend to keep me in London. There was also my sister’s anger. She was jealous, which I already knew, but I suppose I just never knew how far she’d carry it.” Lydia’s gaze locked with Meredith’s. “Mr. Castle married Jane, and after that, I knew I could never return.”

Meredith’s heart stopped. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

“And is that when you left London?” Alex asked.

Lydia broke their stare. “Soon after. Mr. Castle died about a year after he married my sister. That’s when I met Mr. Keyes. He was a kind, sweet, generous man—just what I needed at the time. Of course, Cynthia wanted me to hold out until I’d met someone far more prestigious in ranking, but I was happy with the man I’d found. It was as if she was living vicariously through me, and if I were to marry, then all her fun would be spoiled. She asked if I’d stay just a bit longer . . .”

Meredith had already guessed what happened next. “You didn’t.”

Her aunt shook her head. “I couldn’t. I should have never left Middlebury—I should have never left Mr. Castle. I couldn’t stand the thought of having happiness slip away from my grasp for a second time, making such a sacrifice for what everyone else wanted. At the end of the day, the ribbon on my wrist couldn’t come close to bringing me as much joy as that ring on my finger. I loved my husband, much as I had Mr. Castle. I’ve been truly blessed in that regard.”

“And you no longer talk to any of them?” Alex asked.

“Life is too short for grudges. I moved on years ago and I’ve always been willing to welcome the others back into my life. After Mr. Castle died, I took it upon myself to send my sister small gifts and money. Even with circumstances being what they were, I knew what it felt like to lose someone you loved.”

“You sent her money?” Meredith repeated.

Lydia nodded. “It meant very little to her, especially given the allowance Cynthia was providing.”

“The money for her doctors, you mean.” Meredith clarified.

Lydia shook her head. “It’s far more than that. Your mother received quite a bit of money for sending you to London. There were the trips, the clothes, the residence in Brighton . . .”

Meredith’s mind was reeling, her mouth having difficulty speaking the words she wanted to say. “Cynthia gave her all that? Why?”

Lydia looked down at her hands, now trembling in her lap. “The same reason she provided for my father. It was payment for keeping you in London. That’s the only way your mother would have it.”

That’s why Derek had said what he did. Her mother wasn’t poor and she certainly wasn’t ill. She’d just made it all up so she wouldn’t be found out.