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“So, do you know my whereabouts last Saturday, Miss Lydia?” Edwin asked, relishing the look on her face.

She seemed calm, complacent even. This could be due to one of two options. She had either come to terms with the fact that she did not know where he was which was the option he was certain of, or she knew although he could not for the life of him figure out how she could know when he had simply visited an old friend, and they drank whisky until 5 am, reminiscing about the good old days. He doubted that Lydia knew Thomas, or that Thomas would tell her. It was preposterous to even consider it as an option.

The servant girl had placed the tea tray right in front of them both on a small table. It was his mother’s usual guest tea service and used their finest China although several of the teacups had already broken due to clumsy hands. Her opinion was that there was no point in having nice things if one did not put them to good use.

His sister was also just like that. She wrote with her favorite quill pen in her favorite notebook. She drank tea from her most favorite, most beautiful cup and kept her favorite book always on a little table by her bedside. The thought of Rachel once again gripped at his heart like a monster talon that simply would not let him be. It was stronger than him — that pain, that heartache, stronger than any other emotion.

He tried to focus on the present moment and the lady sitting across from him. He was stunned to realize that she had been the only thing lately to manage to keep his attention for longer than ten seconds. In fact, he caught himself thinking about her far more often than he ought to have, about her eyes, her lips, the way she swayed ever so softly when she walked. He even caught himself thinking about how delicate her fingers were, willowy and thin, wondering if they would be cold to the touch.

“You said I have one whole day,” she told him, sounding as amused as he was, bringing him back to the present moment.

“Indeed, I did,” he nodded, agreeing with what he initially said. “That means you have several more hours.”

“That is correct,” she confirmed, waiting for the servant girl to pour the tea, watching the entire process as if it were something holy, something to be in awe of. She did not seem to be in any rush whatsoever as if she knew something he did not, and that gave her power over this entire situation.

Several moments later, he was left alone with her. She had been accompanied by her lady’s maid, who had for some reason left the drawing room upon being told something by her mistress. Being alone with her was something he had not anticipated. It both thrilled him and left him somewhat uneasy. He could not understand what could cause the amalgamation of those two states of mind.

“But you are here,” he reminded her, figuring that by focusing on the issue at hand, he would detach himself from the turmoil inside his soul. “In my own home. Aren’t you supposed to be searching for that information outside the confines of my own home?”

“I have been doing that all day,” she admitted, “to no avail.”

He chuckled at this admonition. “Perhaps then you are not as good as you claim to be.”

“I disagree,” she smiled, and it was a smile to die for. A smile burning with confidence and optimism. How he wished he had some of that for himself. “It simply means that I have been approaching this problem from the wrong angle. I simply need to change it, and the solution shall reveal itself to me.”

“Will it, now?” he smiled, leaning back against the chaise lounge, getting comfortable, and with each passing moment spent in this lady’s company, he was more entertained by her.

Entertained and enthralled. But that was something he wasn’t willing to admit. She was a good distraction. He was supposed to be out looking for Rachel, not sitting at home entertaining ladies. Something, however, assured him he was exactly where he needed to be, and that thought provided much needed comfort.

“I am absolutely certain it will,” Lydia was adamant.

Not only that, but she was also radiant as well. He tried to banish that thought from his mind and focus solely on her brain. Only, that was much easier said than done when her brain was located in such a ravishing body. All the while, he had done his best to keep his eyes focused on hers and not on the soft line between her breasts. When she leaned forward to take the teacup into her hands, he could not resist lowering his gaze and gracing it with the sight of her pale pink flesh peeking out of that tight gown. As soon as she brought the teacup to her lips, his eyes were once again focused on hers… as they ought to be.

“You might as well just tell me where you were,” she suddenly told him, gazing at him from beneath those long, dark eyelashes.

He wasn’t expecting this. He chuckled out loud so boisterously that he caught even himself off guard. He could not remember the last time he laughed so freely. When the onslaught subsided, he was able to muster a response.

“So, that is how you plan on finding out my whereabouts? By making me tell you?” he grinned at her. “I think we both know that is not going to happen.”

“I am merely suggesting cutting this waiting short,” she shrugged, seeming unusually pleased with herself, “so we could start focusing on your sister.”

The mention of Rachel once again withdrew from his being all the pleasure he had felt up until this point. The pain returned. The agony of her disappearance, the torment of not knowing where she was or with whom, and if she needed his help… It was too difficult to think about those things, and yet, that was all he could think about.

For a moment, he considered telling her. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps hedidneed help. Lord knew that he had tried all his ideas, and none of them were fruitful. He was nowhere nearer finding Rachel now than he was two years ago. It was slowly killing him on the inside.

Then, he decided against it. He did not need the help of someone for whom this would be nothing but something to pass the time with. Rachel was his sister. She meant more to him than he could explain in words. If he were to be helped by someone, it had to be by someone who proved their worth to him.

At that moment, Lydia’s lady’s maid knocked on the door, and after being called, she walked over to Lydia. She bent down to her ear and whispered something. All the while, Lydia did not take her eyes off Edwin. Suddenly, her eyes opened up more fully. Her lips widened into a smile. Her lady’s maid pulled away and sat down by Lydia’s side.

“Thank you, Susannah,” Lydia smiled then she addressed Edwin. “Well, it would appear that you were at your old friend Thomas’ home drinking whisky until 5 in the morning.”

He had never heard someone say something with so much unspoken joy in their voice, with such defiance and sheer amusement. It was obvious. She won. She found out where he was, even the amount of time he spent there. He was flabbergasted. It took him several moments to realize what she had done.

“The staff always gossips, Your Grace,” she explained without even being asked to, just so she could show off a little. He had to give her that. She deserved it. “Especially to other servants.”

He tilted his head to the side, nodding ever so slightly.

“That was quite impressive, Lady Lydia, I must admit,” he confessed. “I thought you had come here endeavoring to extract that information out of me while I see now that it was merely a rouse while you were waiting for your more than capable lady’s maid to obtain that information for you.”


Tags: Sally Vixen Historical