The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘Yes. We’ve been meeting on the beach ever since.’

‘In secret? But why didn’t she tell me?’

‘Maybe she didn’t want to upset you. We were only friends to begin with.’

‘To begin with...’ Her eyes drifted back towards the clock again. ‘Well, then, I should go.’

‘Lydia?’ He wasn’t quite sure what her expression was, only that it seemed to contain a hint of panic. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes. I just think that we’ve said enough, don’t you?’

She hurried towards the parlour door and then stopped, uttering a shrill exclamation and whirling around at the sound of hoofbeats and wheels outside.

‘Who’s that?’ Arthur moved towards the window, just in time to see a carriage draw up in the yard. ‘Lydia?’ He turned around again, narrowing his eyes suspiciously when she didn’t say anything. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s my father,’ she answered through white lips. ‘He’s come looking for me.’

‘And how exactly would he know where to find you?’

‘Because...’ she seemed unable to look at him directly now ‘...I went to visit my friend Amelia Kitt before I came here.’

‘Amelia Kitt, the biggest gossip in Whitby?’

‘Ye-es. I arranged for a boy to deliver a note to me at her house.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Nothing, it was blank. Only I might have implied that it was important and...’ she winced ‘...personal.’

‘And then you told her you were coming here?’

‘Yes.’

‘On your own?’

‘Yes, but I begged her to be discreet!’

‘Knowing full well that she couldn’t be?’

‘I...yes.’

‘And that she’d think it her duty to tell your parents, not to mention the rest of Whitby?’

‘Yes!’ Her expression turned angry again suddenly. ‘But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this! I thought that once you saw me and I explained everything in person then it would all be all right. I thought you’d be glad if my father found us.’

‘You thought I’d be glad to be trapped?’

‘Not trapped. Only I thought you might need a little bit of encouragement, that’s all, like last time.’

‘Encouragement.’ Arthur repeated the word flatly, listening to the sound of a carriage door opening outside. Well, all credit to Lance, he’d warned him often enough that this might happen and now it was too late to do anything about it. He wished he’d jumped out of the parlour window when he’d had the chance.

‘I’m sorry.’ Lydia looked genuinely remorseful.

‘Then prove it. Tell your father the truth. Tell him I had no idea you were here.’

‘I can’t!’ All of the blood seemed to drain out of her face. ‘He’d never let me out of the house again.’

‘Well, if you think that marrying me is the solution then you’re mad!’