Jenny came running up to Lydia before she could even get inside the front door.

“Lydia, what did I just see? You riding with Edwin on his horse, in broad daylight, through the center of Upton Magna? I certainly hope Doctor Cooke did not see that delicious spectacle.”

Lydia laughed. “Oh, Jenny, how you exaggerate. He was simply bringing me home because the carriage was unavailable.”

“I saw you all snuggled up to him with your head on his shoulder. It looked to me like a lot more than a simple ride home.”

“Come inside,” Lydia insisted. “I don’t want the entire village to hear all about your observations.”

They went inside the cottage, and Lydia removed her bonnet and set down the notebook with her notes.

“And just so you know, I took Doctor Cooke a tin of biscuits, as you suggested, and we arranged another walk for Wednesday.”

“Did he seem receptive? Was he eager to see you again?”

“He seemed pleased,” was all Lydia would offer.

“How was your ride today?” Jenny asked as she followed Lydia into the kitchen.

“You will stay for tea?”

“Oh, yes. I need to know everything. I have a feeling you are keeping secrets from me,” Jenny said, as she put down her shopping basket, and hopped up on the kitchen table as Lydia filled the kettle.

“The ride did not happen today. Ellen was not well. Female issues, I suspect.”

“So what did you do all morning, then?”

“Edwin greeted me and we studied and made plans for the orchard and vegetable garden.”

Jenny gave Lydia a quizzical look. “Lydia, is he courting you?”

Lydia was startled. How could Jenny believe such a thing? Or was Jenny seeing something that she was missing because of her rigid belief in her unworthiness as an equal to a Duke?

“Oh, Jenny, that is quite ridiculous. First, he is an aristocrat, with a mother pushing for him to marry Pamela Stafford. And secondly, he has been a total gentleman, with no indications, whatsoever, that he is romantically interested in me in any way.” Although she could not mention the subtle looks and touches that sometimes occurred between them.

“But I would remind you that Miss Stafford is also not an aristocrat, but rather a wealthy merchant’s daughter,” Jenny insisted.

That gave Lydia pause for thought. “That is as it may be. But the keyword there is ‘wealthy.’ Perhaps, if I had money, that might be another matter. But I do not.” Lydia poured the hot water into the teapot.

“Then you are telling me that there is no indication, whatsoever, that the Duke is interested in you in any way?” Jenny asked.

“Well, not entirely. He is interested in me as a fellow gardener, horticultural enthusiast, and as a friend of his sister.”

Jenny stared at her. “Humph. I think you are undervaluing yourself, Lydia.”

“However, there is one promising development,” she said as she opened the tin of biscuits Jenny loved so well.

“Yes?”

“Edwin has offered to pay me for my assistance to him with the garden.”

“Pay? How much? Lydia, that is quite remarkable.”

Lydia poured the tea.

“We are to discuss the terms on Friday. He wants me to help him at least twice a week.”

“Hum. Now, this is becoming interesting.”

“Jenny, please do not make a big issue of this. We share this common interest. He needs help, and I need an income. This might be a way for me to make a living once my aunt leaves.”

Jenny was stunned. “Your aunt is leaving?”

Lydia realized she had just told Jenny what she had no business telling her yet. “Oh, Jenny, I should not have told you that. It is a private matter with my aunt.”

“No, tell me. I can keep a secret.” Jenny’s face lit up with the excitement of new gossip.

“I will be able to tell you shortly, but not yet. Please, do not press me on this issue.”

Jenny pouted as she sipped at her tea and took two biscuits to place on her saucer.

Lydia insisted, “Now, I must start my supper, and I am certain you must need to get your market shopping to your mother.”

“Are you shoving me out the door?” Jenny groused.

“Yes. I am. I have a lot to do and a lot to think about. So I need to be alone before Aunt comes home.”

“Very well. But don’t forget we need to discuss the ball. Maybe you can help me with my gown. And what are you going to wear?”

“I do not know. I have many more urgent concerns than that.”

“You are being very mysterious these days, Lydia. If I did not know better, I would think you were no longer my friend.”

Lydia became impatient and went over, picked up Jenny’s market basket, handed it to her, grabbed her by the waist from behind and marched her toward the front door.

“I am your friend, Jenny. Now be my friend and give me some peace—please.”

“Very well, very well.”

Lydia closed the door behind Jenny, leaned back against the front door, and let out a sigh.

* * *

Doctor Cooke stood at the front door with Lydia’s empty biscuit tin in his hands as she answered the door. She looked up at the sky.

“Oh, Reginald, I didn’t think you would come this morning,” Lydia said. “I am so sorry—I am not ready for a walk.”

“Why would I not be here, as promised?”

“The weather is so threatening. It looks like it could pour down at any moment.” As she was a little rattled, she had forgotten her manners and added. “Please, Doctor, come in. No need to keep you standing on the doorstep.”

“Thank you.” He removed his hat and stepped inside. He offered her the empty tin. “Your biscuits were quite marvelous. I finished them far too quickly.”

“Then, I will need to make you some more.”

“I would not say no to that.”

“Please take a seat. Shall I make some tea?”

Reginald sat at one end of the sofa.

“Not for me, thank you. I had a late breakfast.”

There was a rumble of thunder and it began to pour down rain rather fiercely.

“Miss Lydia, you were certainly correct about the rain. I should be drenched if I had been but a few moments later.”

Lydia sat at the far end of the sofa and faced Reginald.

“Tell me, where would we have gone if we were to walk today?”

“I have shown you two walks, and I have two more in mind to show you. One is along a tributary to the river where there is a lovely aspect of an early eighteenth century grain mill. It is charmingly set, and I am sure you would enjoy it. The second is a bit of a climb up what is the closest thing we have to a mountain in our rather flat area of Shropshire.”

“Both sound interesting.”

“Perhaps next time.”

There was an awkward pause. Lydia could not busy herself making tea, and the Doctor had run out of discussion about the walks.

“Well, then, perhaps I should leave you to your day. I am sorry about the walk,” he said standing.

Lydia stood as well. But she felt she needed to be a better hostess. And she realized she was never going to entice Reginald if she was not more forthcoming.

“Oh, no, it is raining far too hard for you to leave just yet. Please sit a while longer.”

Reginald sat back down, and Lydia followed.

“Tell me more about the mathematical puzzles you so much enjoy of an evening. I should like to know more about them.”

Reginald brightened up. “How fortuitous—I just happen to have a copy of one of my latest subscriptions in my coat pocket.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small periodical, which he opened. Lydia scooted closer across the sofa so she could see. He flipped through pages until he came to a good example.

“Here, this is an easy puzzle. You might enjoy this one.” He held the periodical so she might see where he was pointing. “There, you see…” and he began to explain the puzzle in detail. He showed her all the elements and how the puzzle could be solved using various approaches to the problem.

Lydia nodded and made the occasional comment, but the entire process was going right over her head and she had no idea what he was saying, and no understanding at all of the puzzle or the process.

“And that is exactly how you reach the conclusion,” he said, proud of his accomplishment. “Shall I show you another?”

By now the force of the rain had eased into a soft drizzle.

“Oh, thank you, Reginald, but to be quite honest, my mind does not work like yours does. I am afraid I do not have the same capacity to understand that you do.”

“Oh. Very well.” He looked out the window. “Ah, the rain is letting up. Perhaps I should leave before it starts up again.”

“I am sorry about missing our walk, Reginald. I do look forward to it another time,” Lydia said as she stood.

Reginald fumbled to get the periodical back into his pocket. “Perhaps next week at the same time? Weather permitting, of course.”

Lydia smiled and extended her hand. Reginald took it and held on to it as he gazed into her eyes with a look of longing. He did not let her hand go, and after a moment, Lydia had to awkwardly withdraw her hand and take a step backward.

Reginald seemed perplexed and cleared his throat. “Yes, until next week then. And thank you again for the biscuits.”

He picked up his hat and hurried for the front door.

“Good day, Miss Lydia.” He bowed slightly, put on his hat and retreated out the door.

* * *

Aunt Lavinia was as near to giddy as Lydia had ever seen her. She had already changed her dress twice that morning, and she had not even had her tea yet. She fussed with her cap, continually trotting over to the mirror to adjust it and tuck strands of hair underneath. Then she would turn from the mirror and snap back suddenly, as though to catch a glimpse of herself as others might see her. Those others being Dr. Winston, of course.

The good Doctor had arrived last evening at Honeyfield and the Duke had allowed Dr. Winston the use of the carriage this morning to pick up Aunt Lavinia and take her to her attendance on the Duchess. He was to call for her in fifteen minutes.

Lavinia was so used to walking to work she didn’t know what to do with herself as she waited for the carriage. She went to the window and looked out at the street but there was, as of yet, no sign of the carriage approaching. She went back to the mirror to check her hair.

“Aunt, do not forget your reticule. And will you not want your handkerchief?” Lydia suggested, as she held out the items for her aunt to take.

Lavinia let out a chuckle. “Oh, gracious me. I am a mess this morning, am I not?”

Lydia smiled. “It is an important day for you, Aunt. It is not surprising. Are you excited?”

“I am.” She dashed over to the window, once again, when she heard a carriage approaching. But it was only a wagon passing down the road.

“I, too, am looking forward to seeing Dr. Winston. However, I will not interrupt your reunion with him when he arrives. I shall see him at Honeyfield later this morning, as I am to work with Edwin… I mean the Duke.”

Aunt was astonished and not a little shocked. “You call the Duke by his first name?”

“It is his wish for me to do so.”

“Oh, Lydia, that is most inappropriate. Does Her Grace know about this?”

“I do not believe so, and I know the Duke would be grateful if you did not inform her of such.”

Aunt’s face took on a sour look. “Honestly, I do not know what this world is coming to. However, I shall honor your request, but please call him Your Grace when in attendance with the Duchess.”

Lydia nodded. “Yes, Aunt.”

The coach’s arrival could be clearly heard from the street. Lavinia became flustered and went about the room retrieving what she needed to take with her.

There was a knock at the door and Lydia went to answer. A footman was waiting to accompany Lavinia to the coach.

“Good-bye, Aunt. Please give my regards to Dr. Winston and tell him I shall be seeing him shortly at Honeyfield.”

“Yes. Yes,” she said as she hurried out of the house like a cluster of geese.

Lydia realized she might have taken the carriage with her aunt, as she was due to meet Edwin in just two hours, but it would have meant she would be too early, and besides, she wanted to let Aunt and the Doctor have time alone.

But that was agreeable, because she still needed to finish the lists for Edwin. She had made rough drafts but wanted to copy them out in fair hand before the carriage came to take her to Honeyfield.