The dinner party was every bit the intolerable ordeal that Lydia had imagined it would be. She went through dinner in a near trance, chatting now and then with Daniel who was on her left and with a Shropshire, country-gentleman landowner to her right. But Ellen was far away down the table close to her family and was unavailable for solace. The only other person, close enough to converse with, was a matronly dowager opposite, but she engaged in no conversation, whatsoever. She continually mumbled to herself and would occasionally look up with a jerk and shout out, “What! What!” and then slump back into a mumbling stupor.

And then at the end of the supper, the Earl stood up, clinked his glass and called for everyone’s attention. Lydia knew all too well what was coming and just could not bear to face the announcement. She rose from her chair and turned to leave, but Daniel caught her arm and asked, “Are you ill?”

“I feel a little faint, but I shall recover. I just need some fresh air. Please excuse me.”

“I would come with you but…”

“No, it is fine. You stay for the announcement.”

Lydia then fled the dining room. And as she was leaving, she could not help herself, but glanced over at Edwin, and caught his eye. She had never seen such a look of despair. And the Duchess saw his look as well and reached over and shook his arm.

But Lydia did not stay to see any more. She fled to the terrace and stood looking out over the gardens. By now it was dark. The sun had set long ago and a first quarter moon was hanging low in the western sky. Strangely, a bird was still singing. It puzzled her until she realized it was a nightingale.

There was no one to comfort her. Her mother was tied to the Duchess. Ellen was duty bound to congratulate her brother and Caroline, and Daniel needed to support his sister and his family. There was no place for Miss Lydia. She should never have come.

But she was determined to quash the self-pity and, taking a deep breath of the night air, turned to go back to the dinner, hoping the engagement announcement and congratulations would be over.

But as she turned she bumped into someone, and looking up she was confronted with Edwin. He took her by the shoulders, and holding her tightly said, “I must not stay, but I had to see you.”

“Edwin, no. Go back to your fiancé.”

He shook his head. But she refused to let go of her determination to stay calm and collected.

“This may be the only moment I have to say what I must say. Please hear me out.”

She nodded.

“It broke my heart to see you flee the dinner, but I completely understand your need to. Please know that I wish things could be different. I long with all my heart that it had been you standing next to me when the announcement of my engagement was broadcast to the assembly. But it cannot be so.

“My darling Lydia, forgive me for what I have done. Think fondly of me, if you can, and know that I shall always treasure your indomitable spirit and fiery will.”

“Thank you, Edwin. I do understand why this must be so. And I accept the fact. Now, please go back to your family. People will begin to be suspicious if you do not return to your joyous celebration.”

Edwin just stared at her. He put his hand on her cheek and turned and left.

And she knew that she must return as well. Her fainting spell needed to be over or Daniel would come searching for her. She did not need or want his solicitous concern even if it was genuine and well meant. So she headed back to the dining room.

The two families had risen from the table and were gathered in a group, smiling and toasting. Even her mother was still attending to the Duchess. Daniel had his arm around his sister and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lydia found her other dinner companion, the gentleman landowner and stood next to him as the other guests watched the happy families celebrating.

“Ah, I love a good wedding. Braces the spirits and lightens one’s steps. Think not, lass?”

“Indeed, sir.”

“Makes me harken back to the time when me and the missus were courting.” He became thoughtful. “But then one is young and sees or knows not the heartaches that can follow.” He turned and looked at her. “Oh, sorry, missy. You are a young’un yourself, are ye not? Forgive my dark turn of phrase. Forgive an old man his reminiscences.”

“There is no need for an apology, sir. Life is what it is, and there will always be the bitter and the sweet, will there not?”

“Aye ye be right there, lass. And bless ye for the great wisdom.”

The engagement party was now drifting from the dining room into the sitting room. Couples dispersed or lingered in conversation as the guests little by little went their separate ways.

As the family was leaving, Daniel came over to Lydia.

“Have you recovered?” he asked.

“Fair enough,” she answered. “It was but a momentary faintness brought on by the wine and the heat I expect.”

“Come, you must want to congratulate the engaged couple,” he said, as he took her arm and led her toward the sitting room.

This, of course, was the last thing Lydia wanted to do, but out of respect for the Templeton family, it was something she must do.

Edwin and Caroline were standing and receiving the good wishes of the guests who were not family. The Earl, the Duchess, and Lydia’s mother were seated next to the receiving couple.

“Excuse me,” Daniel said, and went over to his father, leaving Lydia at the end of the receiving line. Her palms were clammy as she waited. But finally all had bid their good wishes but her.

Caroline’s face turned to stone when Lydia approached.

“Miss Caroline, Mr. Edwin, I am most happy to offer my sincerest congratulations on your engagement, and I wish you all the happiness in your marriage.” Lydia offered her hand to Caroline, but she refused to accept it.

Lydia then turned to Edwin. “Your Grace, you have my most felicitous wishes for great happiness and harmony in your pending marriage.”

Edwin nodded—his face a mask. “Thank you, Miss Fernside.”

Lydia turned to leave, but Caroline caught her arm and pulled her aside now that all the guests had offered their congratulations.

Caroline had the evilest grin Lydia had ever seen.

“So, how does it feel, Miss Lydia? Scorn me will you? Call me sadly absurd? Well now, who has Edwin chosen to be his wife? Who does he care for? Who has been left behind to stew in her own misery? Answer me that—Miss Lydia.”

Lydia stared at her for a few moments, and then said, “How sad you are. How very, very sad.”

She turned away as Daniel came over to her.

“Lydia, shall we take a stroll in the garden before you go home? It will be refreshing after the stuffiness of this room.”

“Thank you, I shall enjoy that.”

“And the carriage is ready for you whenever you like,” he added as he led her away.

As they were leaving for the garden Lydia, wondered how long it would be before Caroline would try to turn Daniel against her, if she hadn’t tried already.

Daniel led her into the garden where the air was fresh, and perhaps even a bit chilly. They strolled along a rectangular, narrow pond until they came to a stand below the yew trees. They stopped and Daniel turned to Lydia while taking both of her hands in his.

“We shall be going up to London soon,” Daniel said. “Now that the engagement has been announced there will be a great deal to do to prepare for the wedding. And I must also return to my studies. As delightful as this interlude has been, it is time for me to, once again, pursue my calling.”

“Of course. None of us are exempt from our duties.”

“I shall miss you. Might you write me?” he asked.

“I shall be delighted to.”

“And it will not be that long until you and Ellen come up to London. I do look forward to that. And perhaps we might enjoy another opera together again. Or even some ballet?”

“I look forward to that as well.”

Even though it was dark, Lydia could tell that Daniel was watching her closely. And then he leaned in and kissed her lips.

She was startled and withdrew. “Daniel. Please…”

“I am sorry. I got carried away by the lovely evening and your presence. I overstepped. Please, forgive me.”

“Certainly. But I think it’s best if you take me to the carriage now.”

“As you wish,” he said rather coolly.

They headed back to the house. Lydia found her wrap and looked around to say goodbye to Ellen, but she could not be found, and Lydia decided it was best if she just go.

“Please give my regards and thank you to your parents for hosting me this evening.”

“It was not my parents, it was me,” Daniel said quite curtly.

“Then, I thank you.” She cast him a look but he was not regarding her.

He took her to the carriage and helped her inside.

“Good evening, Miss Lydia, I greatly appreciate that you joined me for the evening.”

“My pleasure, Daniel.”

And good fortune with your garden.”

“Thank you.”

He shut the carriage door and slapped the side to alert the driver to start up.

Lydia rode back to the cottage in a turmoil of feelings. Why, oh why, had she agreed to attend this terrible evening? But it was now mercifully over and she rested her head against the carriage window and let her thoughts drift to the garden—her lovely garden. That would give her peace in the days to come. She contemplated the harvest and the canning and the drying of the apples, peeled, sliced and drying in the autumn sun. She allowed the carriage to rock her into a kind of stupor. She began to feel a small modicum of peace as she receded from the trials of the evening and returned to the quiet of her small cottage and the comfort of her cat who would curl up next to her on the bed.

* * *

Lydia was picking burrs out of Gingersnap’s coat. They were deeply embedded and she squirmed, as Lydia had no choice but to actually pull out small clumps of undercoat to get the burrs free. The cat could take only so much of that at a time and jumped down when Lydia decided to stop grooming for the moment.

Mother was seated at the table filling the oil lamps.

“My dear,” she said, “Her Grace has asked if I should like to take a room in the great house. She feels it would be more convenient for her to have me close by at all times. And I keep thinking how inconvenient it is for us to be sharing this tiny cottage.”

“Is that what you want?” Lydia asked.

“I believe so.”

“My only reservation is that she might take undue advantage of you and call upon you at all times of the day or night, with no time off or privacy for yourself.”

“Yes, I have thought about that too. I said I would accept, but there would need to be strict boundaries set.”

“And she agreed?”

Mother smiled, “Reluctantly.”

“Just make sure she keeps to the agreement. Do not be shy about admonishing her if she oversteps her bounds.”

Mother laughed and then sighed. “Yes. I will try.”

Lydia then had a thought. “Mother, since I will be all alone, would you be able to look after Gingersnap for me while I am in London?”

“Oh, yes, I should like that. I have become quite attached to the little tyke. Perhaps, I might keep her in my room while you are gone.”

“But Mamma, she needs to go outside to do her business.”

“That should not be a problem, as I shall be on the ground floor and can leave a window open.”

“But it will be January, you can’t leave the window open all day it will be too cold.

“Oh, dear, how true. Then let me think on it.”

“When do you plan to move up to the house?”

“I was thinking on my day off. The footmen will come to fetch my things and it will give me time to settle in.”

Lydia nodded. And she could not help but think how nice it would be to have the cottage to herself again.

* * *

The mid-October sun shone weakly through the morning mists. It was past the first frost, and Lydia was bundled up with a thick sweater, scarf, and gloves. She was raking leaves in the orchard.

But she stopped for a moment to enjoy the sight of the red, yellow, and orange leaves of the fruit trees. A bonfire of raked leaves smoldered nearby. She had always enjoyed the smell of a leaf fire and it flooded her with memories of her days as a child at Piddlehinton. She and her sisters would run around the orchard as their father raked leaves into a pile. They would then throw themselves into the pile and squeal with delight, even as he scolded them for messing up his raking.

Lydia wanted to work hard this morning and then go over to visit Jenny later that afternoon to work on preparations for the wedding which—it had been decided—would be held on the Saturday, in the first week of December.

She threw herself back into the raking. The mists were beginning to burn off and it was starting to warm up. She needed to unwrap her scarf and let it hang open around her neck.

Lydia saw the carriage had been taken out of the stable as the grooms began hitching up the horses. Then she saw Edwin come out of the house and start walking toward her.

“Good morning, Lydia, he said as he approached.

“Sir, and good morning to you.”

He was not wearing his hat and he ran his hand through his hair, which Lydia had come to recognize as a sign that he was troubled.

“I wanted to connect with you before I leave. I must go up to London for a few days so we will not be able to work together for a while.”

“That is fine. I have plenty to do with the orchard and garden for at least a week or two.”

Edwin shifted his weight several times. He seemed to be wrestling with something.

“I need to tell you I am, at this point, uncertain about when I shall be able to continue the arboretum project.”

“Oh, Edwin. Why is that? I thought the settlement from the marriage would be sufficient for you to carry on.”

“As did I. However, while I thought the settlement would be made after the engagement, I find that it will not be made until after the marriage. I am, in fact, going up to London today to see if I can appeal to the Earl to release the funds before the wedding.”

“Then we must suspend working on the greenhouse?”

“I would like for us to continue working on the drawings and plans, but we will not be able to go forward with the architect or any construction until after the marriage.”

“I see. And what about my position?” Lydia asked, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

“You are fine. Please carry on as you are while I am gone. It looks like there is still plenty for you to work on. Then, when I return, we can see how it stands.”

“Very well, sir.”

Edwin’s gaze softened. “Lydia, there is no need to call me sir.”

Lydia lowered her eyes. “But things are not as they were.”

“Yes, I understand. But we were friends before… Before the engagement. Can we not still be friends?”

She looked up at him. “As you wish.”

He studied her for a moment. “I must go. I will return in a few days. If there are any issues consult with Ellen. Mother would be useless in a crisis. I am sure you and Ellen could put your heads together and solve any problem that might arise.”

“Of course. Thank you for your confidence in me.”

Edwin nodded, turned, and left.