Lydia had removed her ball gown and was dressed in a simple robe over her nightdress. She was sitting on a sofa in her room reading when there was a knock at her door.

“Yes, come in, please,” she called out.

Ellen entered.

“Are you all right? I was so worried when David told me you had left. Did you become ill?”

She came over and sat down next to Lydia on the sofa.

Lydia’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her head. “No, Ellen, I am quite well. I just… I… I have to be honest and say I am really not enjoying London very much.”

Ellen reached out and put her hand on Lydia’s arm. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry. Is there anything I can do to brighten you up?”

Lydia hesitated but decided to tell Ellen. “I saw Daniel at the party.”

“Yes, as did I,” Ellen added. “However, he didn’t speak a word to me and seemed to be avoiding me. I didn’t think too much about it at the time, but now that you mention it…”

“I think Caroline must have gotten to him. I feel quite certain she does not want Daniel to have anything to do with me because she is jealous. She has probably told Daniel some terrible lies about me, and now he has cut me off.”

“Is that what it is? Hmm. Well. She is just going to have to deal with me then, for I shall not have the mean b…”

She hesitated. “I cannot find a polite word for what she is. No sister-in-law is going to make dispersions against my dearest friend. I care not if her father is the Earl of Albermarsh. I am the daughter and the sister of the Duke of Shropshire—and a Duke beats an Earl in my book any day of the week.”

They both laughed.

“I will tell you what. I believe tomorrow is to be a sunny day, let us go for a drive in the Barouche with the top down in Hyde Park. We shall see and be seen by everyone. We shall stun them all with our radiant beauty. What do you say? Let us make a morning of it, and then have lunch afterward at Wiltons.”

“Sounds delightful.”

* * *

Ellen had been correct about the weather. It was not only sunny but also mildly warm, with no breeze. Even though it was still several months away, there was just the faintest hint of spring in the air.

Ellen had insisted they dress up in their finest day dresses, and they each carried a parasol to shade them from any complexion harming rays. Even though Lydia pointed out that her complexion was already battered by months of hard work in the sun.

“It is about the look, not the actual effect,” Ellen had said.

At ten-thirty Ellen and Lydia climbed into the newly washed and polished Barouche.

“Hyde Park,” Ellen instructed the driver.

They set off at a nice pace toward the park and soon entered onto the carriageway. Because it was such a beaconing day, many other ladies and gentlemen had chosen to take a turn around the park. It was almost like a summer morning it was so crowded.

Of course, Lydia knew none of the gentry passing by in their carriages, but Ellen did, and she waved, nodded, and smiled at most of them.

The carriage drive was a circle through the park and after they had circled twice, Ellen suggested. “I think another turn around the drive would be considered ostentatious. Shall we head over to Wiltons now?

“I know it is a bit early, but I would like a bottle of champagne and half a dozen oysters. Shall we indulge ourselves just a little? I should like to boost your spirits before I need to leave for Edwin’s wedding in a few days.”

That little reminder did not lift Lydia’s spirits but deflated them further.

Ellen could see she had upset Lydia and said. “Oh, dear, I have said the wrong thing, have I not?”

“It is quite all right. It is true. You are leaving for the wedding in a few days, and I shall be left alone in London while you are gone.”

There was no doubt about it. Lydia was feeling sorry for herself, and she hated when she did that. And that made her even more morose.

“Let me think who you might enjoy meeting. I shall find you a most delightful companion while I am gone. Would you like that?”

“Very well,” Lydia said with little enthusiasm. She would much prefer going back with Ellen to Honeyfield, and her little cottage, but it would be even worse to be there during Edwin’s wedding celebrations than to stay in London.

Ellen was looking around at the surroundings outside the carriage. She shaded her eyes when something caught her attention.

“Hmm, I think I may have found the perfect companion for you,” she said and pointed.

Lydia looked to where Ellen was pointing and saw a man on a horse galloping toward them. He was not on the carriage path but was recklessly charging through the park itself where horsemen are not allowed.

The sun was bright in her eyes, yet, as the rider approached, she was suddenly shot through with a bolt of recognition. The rider was none other than Edwin.

He galloped up to the carriage, jumped off the horse, and climbed aboard.

Lydia was completely frozen in disbelief. She finally stammered out, “What… what are you doing here?”

He knelt before her in the carriage, took her hands and said, “Lydia, my Lydia, I have come for you.”

“What do you mean? Is my mother ill?”

Edwin looking wildly disheveled, replied, “No, my darling, it is not your mother. It is I? It is I who is overwhelmed with pain and suffering.”

Lydia shook her head. She could not grasp what was going on. “Then it is you… you are ill?” she stammered.

“I am ill for love of you.”

Lydia just stared at him.

“You are getting married to Caroline Beaufort… in what, a few days? I don’t understand what you are saying.”

Ellen scooted over to the other side of the carriage to make way for Edwin. He got off his knees and sat next to Lydia, still holding her hands.

“I have broken off the engagement. I want only to marry you.”

Lydia pulled herself together and would not allow herself to accept what he was saying.

“But you need the marriage. You need the settlement. How will you accomplish your dream for the arboretum if you do not marry Caroline?”

“I do not know. I do not care.”

“And your mother, what does she say about this?”

Edwin laughed. “I thought she was going to have a stroke when I told her. But she is far too strong and mean to let my disobedience faze her in any serious way.”

Then both Lydia and Ellen laughed. Lydia turned to Ellen. “Did you know about this?”

“I did. But he swore me to secrecy. He wanted it to be a surprise. And I guess it was.”

“Edwin…” Lydia said softly. “Edwin, you want me to be your wife?”

“I do. Lydia Fernside, I absolutely and totally love you. Will you accept my plea and be my wife?”

“Oh, Edwin, of course, I will marry you, you silly goose. How could you even think I would not?”

* * *

The three of them were lunching at Wiltons as planned. They were into their second bottle of champagne and the oysters had transitioned to a fine beef tenderloin.

Lydia was hungry for every detail. “And how did you know about this, Ellen?”

“Edwin wrote me and said he was coming to ask you for your hand in marriage, but he wanted me to keep it a secret. I had no idea when he might arrive, so I needed to keep you entertained and in my sight, as he might show up at any moment, and I did not want us to have to go searching all over London to find you.”

Edwin was holding her hand and would not let go. However, it was extremely difficult for her to eat her lunch with just one hand.

Lydia turned to Edwin, extracted her hand, and asked, “But how is this going to work? What are we to do about money for the estate? How ever will you be able to complete your life’s dream without the Beaufort marriage settlement?”

“I do not have an answer to that question, but I feel certain that with your abilities, and my resolve, we can put our heads together and find a way.”

“When do you suggest we get married?” Lydia asked.

“Why, the marriage to Caroline is already arranged. I see no reason why you cannot just step into what we already have set up.”

Ellen and Lydia both snapped at him, “Edwin! How dare you!”

Ellen continued. “Edwin, no woman wants to step into another woman’s wedding plans. She wants to make her own. I cannot believe you could be so insensitive.”

Edwin threw up his hands. “Oh… I am so sorry. It never crossed my mind…”

Ellen had a strange smile on her face. “I have an idea…”

“Yes?” both Edwin and Lydia asked.

“What about if Lydia and I had a joint wedding? Then we could plan our weddings together.”

“Ellen… has he asked you?” Lydia shrieked.

Ellen nodded. “Last night at the party. That was really what the party was all about.”

Lydia playfully slapped Ellen’s arm. “They why did you not tell me of the engagement last night?

“Because of this. I knew Edwin was on his way, and I wanted to wait and share my good news with you when you had good news of your own.”

“Do you think Bartley will agree to have the wedding at Honeyfield?” Edwin asked. “He might have other ideas.”

Ellen smiled. “Oh, Edwin. How little you know about women.”

* * *

Edwin was to ride ahead back to Honeyfield as he had come to London by horse, not carriage. Ellen and Lydia were to return in the Honeyfield coach as they had come but were not stopping over at Oxford this time.

Before leaving, Edwin asked Lydia to join him in the wonderfully comfortable library. The fine weather of the other day had turned bitter and snow was threatening. Lydia was to join Edwin after they breakfasted. There were two comfortable chairs set before the flickering fire. Lydia came in after having gone to her room for her shawl. Edwin was already seated and Lydia went over to join him.

She sat facing him, her hands folded in her lap. They just stared at each other for a moment.

“How absolutely lovely you are, Lydia. I am the luckiest man in all of Great Britain.”

She smiled. “Not of the whole world?” she teased.

“I think it’s fair to leave a little luck for others, do you not think?”

She nodded. He was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

Then Lydia spoke. “I expect you wish to discuss the legal aspects of our marriage—not very romantic, but necessary. Is that not so? You know I have nothing I can bring to the marriage. My father died in debt. My mother needed to sell everything but her personal belongings to settle the estate and we both live by our wages from you.”

“Of course, I know that, Lydia. And that is of no concern to me. And, as of now, neither one of us is in that much different a position—except in scale, of course. With my father’s investment collapsed, I am left with only the estate in Shropshire and this house in London.

“Then how are we to survive?” Lydia asked. I am sure we can eat—we have the orchard and the garden—but what of your dream for the arboretum?”

Edwin smiled. “I have given the matter a great deal of thought. And what would you say if the orchard and garden were to be the basis for a whole new life for Honeyfield? What if we were to develop a totally new business that could support the entire family?”

“Oh, Edwin, and how would we do that?”

“Listen carefully. I think I can make it work, but only with you as my partner.”

“I am listening.”

“First, we need capital. And I intend to raise that by selling the London house. It would bring us a tidy sum, and I could further lower our costs by eliminating upkeep for this house.”

“But Edwin, it would mean letting all of your staff go. They have been an industrious and loyal part of this house all of your life.”

“They have, and I would provide places for them at Honeyfield. Any that did not wish to work there I would find places for in London.”

“That relieves me,” Lydia said. “But would you not miss having a London home?”

“I wish to focus all of my care on our new project. London for me has always been about ease and frivolity. I know that is not something that interests you, and I have come to see great virtue in your industrious life. That is the life I want us to share together.”

“And have you asked Ellen about this?”

“I have not. But she will soon have her own life with Bartley. He is quite well to do and has his own house. I am certain she will understand and agree once I explain the reasons to her.”

“But this is part of her inheritance. You must take that into consideration when you sell it for capital. Part of that is rightfully hers.”

“I have taken that into consideration. Fear not.”

Edwin leaned forward in his chair. “Now would you like to hear what I suggest we do with that capital?”

“Very much so.”

Edwin got up from his chair and went over to a shelf and took down a large volume and put it on the library table. Lydia followed him and stood next to him as he thumbed through the pages.

He found what he was looking for but before explaining the page, he turned and sat on the edge of the table facing her.

“Now, then… What I have in mind is this. Since we no longer have much of an income from outside the estate, we need to make the estate be our main source of income.” Lydia nodded. “And what do we have to offer? Prime agricultural land. Follow me?”

“I do. But can we make a living with livestock, grains, potatoes or other conventional produce?”

“I believe not. And this is where my idea comes in. What if, instead of growing conventional crops, we grow unconventional crops?”

“Such as?”

“Specialty fruits and vegetables that no one else is growing, but for which there is a great demand in English cities’ markets. These products are now imported at great expense. But they also sell at a great price.”

“But the reason they are not grown here is because we do not have the climate to grow many of these delicacies year round, is that not so?”

Edwin got off the table and began to pace with his excitement. “True, but what if we could create a climate where we could grow year round?”

“The greenhouse…” Lydia said, getting the idea, and becoming excited.

“Exactly. But remember, we already have a splendid and vastly expanded orchard underway with many fine and unusual local fruits. But if we could also grow oranges, lemons, limes, grapefruit and other tropical fruits—just think what we could accomplish.”

“Edwin you are a genius.”

“No, you are. I am only picking up on the ideas you introduced me to.”

Lydia picked up on the idea and began improvising. “And specialty vegetables as well. I saw many in my catalogues that people might not know about and which we could introduce. These we could grow in an even larger expanded vegetable garden. We could become the suppliers of the rare and unusual—and we could corner the market—and even undersell the imported produce, perhaps.”

Edwin then paused and stroked his chin. “And eventually, if all of this works, then I could begin my arboretum.”

He came back to the book he had opened and gestured for her to look with him.

“And here are some of the tropical plants I was thinking about. Do you have any idea what a mango, a passion fruit, a pineapple, or a papaya cost in the London markets?”

“No idea, whatsoever,” Lydia answered.

“Plenty.”

“Then when do we begin?”

“Right after the weddings. You haven’t forgotten about those have you?” Edwin laughed.

“Almost. You got me so excited about our new life, I almost forgot about the present.”

“Well, our mothers will keep us focused on that, I can assure you.”