Scandal in an Aristocratic Family

Scandal in the Noble Family

This is the end! wailed Lydia, dabbing at her eyes with a delicate handkerchief, her sigh so woeful that it sent a shudder through her husband, Edward.

Liddy, whats wrong? Your tablets?

Oh do hush about your silly tablets, Teddy! Dont you see? Its a disgrace! An utter disgrace! Our whole family is in shambles! Look at her! She doesnt show a crumb of remorse!

The sole heiress of the Waltham family looked nothing like a penitent sinner. She wasnt wringing her hands or sinking to her knees. Nothing dramatic at all.

Elizabeth Waltham was eating cherries. Her long, impossibly elegant legs, which Lydia swore were exactly like her grandmothersthe famed lead dancer from Covent Gardenwere kicked up on the balustrade of the conservatory. Liz would take a cherry from the painted platter on the table, pop it in her mouth, and with remarkable aim, flick the stone into the rose bushes. Every time, her mother groaned in despair.

Elizabeth! Stop at once! How can you behave like this? This is a family matter, and you you…

Incensed, Lydia fluttered her hands and left to fetch her tablets.

Lizzie, sweetheart, tell me youre joking, said Edward, casting his daughter a pleading look before hurrying after his wife.

No, Dad, Im not, Lizzie replied calmly. And please, make it clear to Mum that her attempts at matchmaking are hopeless. Im not marrying Maxwell. She can forget about it.

Shell be heartbroken!

Dont be so dramatic, Dad.

Perhaps youll change your mind?

I wont. Ive already told him. We talked today and thats that. If you didnt catch it the first time: no. There wont be a wedding.

Oh dear

Groans echoed from the lounge, sending Edward off to rescue Lydia while Liz scooped up another cherry.

What on earth shall I tell everyone? This is a catastrophe! Weve booked the restaurant and sent out invitations!

I didnt ask you to send them! Liz sing-sang, never raising her voice. Your choice, your mess to clean up.

Thats cruel, darling! I only wanted what was best for you!

And its backfired, as always, hasnt it, Mum? Liz grinned and stretched luxuriously. I have rather different plans for my own life. Terribly inconvenient, I know.

Elizabeth! Lydias voice trembled, and she began to sob anew.

For now, nothing much! Liz gathered up the untouched teacups and waved her off. Im quite capable of washing three cups, you know. And not smashing them in the process.

Off Liz went to the kitchen, as Lydia set her handkerchief aside.

Shes just like your mother! Lydia jabbed at Edward when he appeared. Even that tone of voice! My God, what have I done to deserve this?

Her mother-in-law, the legendary Regina Jane, had never appealed to Lydia. She hadnt wed Edward as a naive young thing, so shed considered herself wise enough to command respect. Only, Regina seemed entirely unbothered by Lydias expectations and saw no reason to adapt her manner simply because another woman had joined the household.

Liddy, darling, whats that scent? Regina would whisper slyly into her ear, pinching her nose when Lydia swept into the room.

Its my new perfume! Lydia would arch an eyebrow. Dont you like it?

Its not bad, I suppose, but why pour half the bottle over yourself? A dab on the wrist would suffice.

Lydiawho truly did overdo the perfumewould purse her lips, feeling injured.

What did I ever do to her? she lamented to Edward. Why is she like this?

Shes like that with everyone, my love. Its just her way.

She needs to change her ways, or I cant be responsible for myself! And dont call me darlingI loathe it!

Naturally, Regina refused to alter a single thing about herself. Her pointed, sometimes stinging comments nettled Lydia more than once. Occasionally, this led to spats and even a little frostiness between Edward and his mother, at least until Lydia received, in a West End foyer, what she considered a questionable compliment.

Youre a proper lady now, Liddy! Thats Regina Jane for youwhat a woman, what taste! And how marvellous youre her spitting image!

Lydia bristled at the comparison, but the compliment itself gave her pause. After all, Regina was a style icon. Lydia, ever the shrewd one, fell quietshe was clever enough to recognise the lessons in discomfort, even if they grated.

She kept a courteous distance with Regina, and after Lizzie was born, forgot her grievances entirely. Regina doted on her granddaughter, happy to spend as much time as permitted.

The Waltham household, its members all creative sorts (except for Lydia, the dentist), settled into peace. Liz grew up cosseted by her grandmother and father, while Lydiathough strictwished for her daughter only what she never had.

From the past, Lydia spoke little, not even to Edward. He knew it in broad strokes, but left the details alone, for which Lydia was sincerely grateful. She cut all ties to it and focused on now.

She had no contact with her mother. The reason was grave, and Lydia had no wish to dig up painful memories. Around her neck, always, she wore a locketa photograph of a bright-eyed, curly-haired boy hidden inside, never opened. She simply couldnt. Her son had been only two when left in his grandmothers care for a moment while she dashed to the shop for milk. Windows open, a cot pushed nearby for comforta summers heat unravelled it all.

Losing him nearly destroyed Lydia. She couldnt eat, sleep, or think. She cursed herself for not taking leave from her studies. That terrible day she came home from an exam to find her world had ended before it truly began.

Her husband, away on expedition, never had the chance even to say farewellthe marriage ended almost at once. Their three years together had been restless, and she knew, even the child couldnt bind them happily ever after.

When the divorce papers were final, she packed a single suitcase and left Oxford for good. From the moment she ceased to be a mother, Lydia felt ancient. All the pain a person could bearshed carried it already, hollowed out. Only ashes remained.

Or so she believed.

And then Edward arrived.

He turned up at her surgery, cradling a swollen cheek.

How longs it been like this? she inquired.

A week, now.

Oh, for heavens sake! Arent you a grown man? Dont you know better?

Youre right. I know nothing, said Edward, attempting a wry smile despite the pain.

There was something in that smile that startled Lydia silent and caused her to mislay her instrumentsimpossible for her. Blushing deep, she bent over his teeth, her hands more gentle than theyd been since the terrible loss.

For over a year Edward would wait to walk her home from work. They hardly needed words, understanding hung quietly between them. When he proposed, Lydia hesitated.

Im happy with you but I dont know if I can make you happy in return.

Why ever not?

I dont want children.

Why?

Ill tell you, Lydia said quietly, grave. But not in detail. When I finish my story, youll have to think it over. If you dont come tomorrowIll understand. Do as you will. Ask your mother, you like her advice so much, dont you?

But Edward never asked his mother. He was grown, and Regina was not one to give unsolicited advice, not even to her own sonexcept, eventually, to Lydia, whom she teased about being as tiresome as the battle-axe mothers-in-law of old jokes. Regina retired young, as many dancers do, and twice had married and divorced by the time Edward told her of Lydia.

He told her everything. Regina smoked her cigarette, ash tumbling into her delicate teacup, and darkened with every word. When he finished, she heaved a deep sigh, pushed the cup aside, and asked simply:

Do you love her?

Yes.

Then whats left to think about? Love is a treasure, son. Nothing you ever pay for it will be enough. Not only thatif its true, it has real weight. Sometimes it feels too heavy to bear, but youll manage, if you realise what youve been given.

You really think so?

I know so.

That settled it. Edward brought Lydia to meet Regina, who kissed her on the cheek and dragged her straight to her dressmaker. Then, from a small drawer in the old walnut dresser, she fetched a velvet box.

These are the Waltham family jewels.

Oh, I couldnt possibly.

Nonsense. Youre family now. Youll wear them, or Ill be offended. Just remembertheyre not baubles for showing off.

What do you mean?

My gran always said wearing diamonds to the market was unseemlyexcept in Brighton, where the fishwives appreciate a good show and might knock a few shillings off your turbot for style.

To her shock, Lydia laugheda sound she thought shed forgotten.

Regina took her under her wing, and though Lydia grumbled, she was ever grateful in her heart. The day Lydia learned she was pregnant, the first she told was not Edward.

You look a bit green about the gills, Liddy. Whats happened? Regina, having just returned from a trip with her latest husband, had stopped by.

Edward was out, and Regina pestered Lydia with so many questions she fled to the loo and didnt emerge until Regina had pieced it together.

Youll have the baby at Sophies. Shes the best, and I trust her with you. Whats got you so worried?

I dont know if I can make it through, Lydia whispered.

Ive never said this before, and likely wont again. Dont be a fool! Thank God, fate, whomeverand get on with it. Remember, Ive got my eyes on you and this baby at all times! Dont be afraid. As long as I draw breath, Ill help. Hear me?

Yes thank you…

Save it for when Im a crabby old biddy one day, always in your hair. Remember this thank-you and repeat it, all right?

Yes.

Good, then!

Elizabeth Waltham arrived squalling, in perfect health and on schedule. Regina was there at the hospital doors, pulled back the lace blanket, and cackled, Work of art! Bravo, Liddy!

She kept her wordthere was no better help for Lydia. Regina, the grand diva and society darling, would toss aside her furs, fill the washtub, and start scrubbing nappies with plain soap, declaring it far superior to powder. Shed bath Lizzie, smother her with kisses, and chant over her like any doting grandmother.

My jewel, my darling, may you always be well!

Grudges forgotten, quarrels vanished.

Lydia finally had what she dreamed ofa family, a home, a little peace.

She did not, of course, forget her own lost boy. Edward took her to Oxford twice a year, but she didnt enter the city, nor visited her mother. They stayed in a small inn somewhere along the Thames, and Lydia counted the minutes until she could leave.

And so it went for years, until Lizzie turned ten and Lydia received a letter from her mother.

Only Regina knew what was in it. Lydia showed her the short note, desperate for guidance.

Go, Regina advised. You cant forgetnor, perhaps, forgive. But she is your mother. Remember who she was before. Surely theres something worth holding onto? Think of your own mother as she was when you were Lizzies age. And remember, none of us is a saint. Anyone can make a mistakesometimes a dreadful one. You, me, anyone. Im not suggesting you need to forgive straight away, or at all. If you find you cant, thats your right. But above all, Im surethis isnt for her, its for you. Otherwise, youll spend your whole life afraid and blaming yourselfwhich wont do you, or Lizzie, any good. I want whats best for you and my granddaughternot for your mother, who is nothing to me. Whatever you decide, Ill support you. Think about it.

The next day, Lydia kissed Edward, delivered Lizzie to Regina, and left for Oxford.

The meeting was heartbreakingly briefher mother came to for mere moments, enough to squeeze Lydias hand and whisper, Forgive me.

Lydia returned days later. Regina handed her back the child with a brisk nod. Well done, did the right thing.

Supposedly, peace reignedeveryone in their place, all as it should be. Yet Lydia felt no calm. Reginas words echoed, catching her in a sticky web of dread she couldnt shake.

Anxietyfathomless and irrationalconsumed her, so much so Edward grew uneasy.

Youre too overprotective, Liddy. Lizzies nearly grownshe needs space, friends, her own interests. Mum, Dad, Grannyall well and good, but only for so long.

I dont see the problem.

I just wish youd stop overseeing her every step. She could do with some freedom.

Is that so? Lydias hackles rose. And youre the one to say it? Dont you care what happens to your daughter?

Of course I do! Lydia, whats got into you?

I see what I see, Edward! Shes a girlwho knows what might go wrong? I couldnt stand another loss, do you understand? I just couldnt!

Why are you convinced disasters so likely?

Because its always possible! Anything can happen, any minute! And then? Whatwring our hands? Go mad with grief? For heavens sake, who does it help then? Have you thought?

Edward could only spread his hands. He loved his wife, but her worries strangled the whole family.

He had no idea how to reassure her, nor how to banish her ghosts.

Regina found a solution.

Put Lizzie in dance lessons.

What for, Mum? Shes overrun alreadyclubs, tutors, societies coming out her ears.

Chuck it all. She needs to dance. Partnered dances.

Is that so important?

Yes!

All right. Ill try.

Thus Lizzie began ballroom, and along came Maxwell.

The chubby, gawky boyhis own gran delivered him to the studiowas paired up with our newcomer.

Theyll muddle along; both a bit overgrown, but no harm in letting them have a go, said the instructors, not guessing that Lizzie wasnt the hiding-in-the-corner sort.

In three years, Maxwell and Lizzie won their first trophy; a few more and they were regulars at ballroom competitions.

Maxwell didnt look awkward any longer, but tall and graceful, gazing down at his partner with benevolent amusement. The judges whispered about a romance.

Lizzie only smiled slylynever denying, never confirming, unaware that Lydia was already plotting the next twenty years.

It wasnt until after graduation that Lizzie discovered her mothers plans.

Ive finally decided. Im going to medical school.

Never troubled by studies, Lizzie had weighed her options till the last minute.

Sweetheart, we thought you had other plans. Lydias smile was peculiarenough to send a chill through her daughter.

What plans? Did I ever say?

Not exactly. Getting a word out of you is like pulling teeth. But Ive talked to Maxwell and his parents.

And?

We have three months. An autumn weddingso beautiful! Ill discuss venues with Granny; she has enough connections to arrange something truly special.

A wedding? Lizzie squinted. Whos getting marriedMaxwell?

You silly thing! Of course! Youre perfect partners on the floor and in life! Isnt it wonderful?

And you never thought to ask me? Lizzie replied icily.

I rather thought it was settled, my dear.

Dont call me dear! Lizzie snapped.

She grabbed her bag and stormed out, not glancing back, and by evening, Lydia learned that her daughter had chosen to stay with Granny for a while.

Regina was succinct.

What were you expecting? Lizzie isnt a doll. You think you can dress her in a white frock, stick a veil on, and drag her up the aisle? Lydia, you always did have sensewhats become of you?

Its my child! I just want her to be happyMaxwell loves her!

But does she love him? Regina smirked. Or is her opinion irrelevant in this?

I know best what she needs! She doesnt even know what she wants yet!

Oh, but she does. Lizzie wants to be a surgeonwhich seems a noble ambition. Whats wrong with that?

Everything! Let her study, thenbut first, she ought to marry! Then Ill have peace of mind!

How so, exactly? Whats peace of mind got to do with marriage?

Dont you see? Shell have a husbandsomeone dependable! Maxwell is a fine boy. Since they began dancing together, I sleep at night, knowing hell look after her.

I do understand you worry, Lydia, but I cant fathom your determination to trap her in a cage. Thats what this marriage would bea beautiful cage, but a cage all the same. Because this is not her choice, its yours. You know it.

This is a pointless argument. There will be a wedding.

If you say so, Regina replied quietly. But youve no idea what your daughters really made of.

And Lizzie proved her point. After the row on the veranda, she packed and moved in with Regina, gravely wounding Lydia. Lydia wouldnt answer calls, wouldnt visit, and even when Lizzie passed her exams and got into her chosen university, she heard it only from Edward.

Liddy, isnt it time you let go of this anger? Is it better weep into her pillow when you could be embracing your own, living child? Why punish yourself? Why suffer so? Cant you try to make things right? I saw her yesterdayshe was asking after you; shes worried, too.

Oh, of course. As if it matters to her how I am!

Lydia! For the first time in their marriage, Edward raised his voice. This is too much! She is your daughteryour own flesh and blood! You waited for her! Longed for her! Whats changed, for you to push away the one you love most? Cant you see how unhappy you are? Explain it to me, please, because I dont understand!

Nor do I! blurted Lydia. I havent a clue what to do! Ive made such a mess, and now Im lost. Oh, Edward, youre rightI really cant even breathe without her. The pain is so sharp its as if the world is always dark. I see no light. Not since I lost my boy”

Lydia, enough! He seized her shoulders and gave her a shake. Lizzies aliveand waiting! Get ready.

Where? What for?

Im driving you to your daughter. And pleasestop believing youre the only force shaping her life! Youre not. Let her live, not sit on a shelf like some precious glass rose you must lock away to keep from smashing!

Whether it was Edwards anger or just his words, Lydia did as he asked.

The reconciliation was private. What was said in Reginas bedroom, only Lydia and Lizzie knew. Neither ever spoke of itbut by their swollen noses and reddened cheeks, Edward saw at once that his girls had found their way back.

But Destiny, crafty as a fox, decided peace and quiet were simply too meagre. She watched Lizzie set off, resolute and unwavering, towards her dream, then cooked up a twist that left even Regina silenced in awe.

Miss Elizabeth Edwardson, theres an acute appendix in casualty.

Got it! Goodnessnothing good about that, but Im coming!

Lizzie finished her coffee, did a little stretch, and strolled to A&E. Her shift was nearly up, but she had no thought of skipping the operationone must chalk up the hours!

You?

Me, grinned Maxwell, then winced in pain.

All right, will you trust me then?

You? Absolutely.

Not even a groan or a last will and testament?

Elizabeth, you nutcase!

Just so

Another three years, and Lizzie would swing the iron gate of her childhood home open and plant, right there on the garden path, her own little boy.

Go onshow Granny how fast you can run! Mummy, catch him!

Little Patrick squealed with delight and threw himself into his grandmothers arms.

My golden boy! How Ive missed you!

Mum, hello! Is Granny in?

Oh yes, of course, Lydia laughed, hugging her grandson. Shes run off to Brighton chasing her latest adventure!

Typical Granny! Who is it now?

Some painter, or a sculptor, or something of the sort. Dont ask me! Shell tell you the lot when shes home. Wheres Maxwell?

Parking the car.

Splendid! The roasts nearly done, your fathers just getting the pie out of the oven. So, hands washed and to the table! Ill get Patrick settled and be right in.

Oh, I know you! Youll sit with him, singing lullabies.

And is that so bad? Lydia smiled, kissing her grandson tenderly.

Its perfect, Mum.Lydia tucked the chubby arms under the soft quilt and listened as Patrick babbled on about Granny Reginas wild tales, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement. She smiledan old smile, weathered by sorrow and brightened by joy. Somewhere behind her, she heard the front door bang, footstepsMaxwells laugh, Edwards call, the clatter of plates as the family gathered, voices echoing through the hallway, spiraling up the stairs and out onto the garden, where rosebuds bloomed amid cherry pits.

Patrick drowsed, eyes fluttering closed, pink cheeks pressed to her shoulder, and for a brief moment Lydia felt her heart expandno longer walled up, no longer tight with worry, but full, overflowing, finally at rest.

She carried Patrick to the kitchen, where the warmth and clamor of family washed over her. Lizzie lifted her glass, Maxwell grinned, and Edward stood with his hands dusted in flour, proud as ever. Above the laughter, the stories, came Reginas voicesent by postcard, perhaps, from Brighton or somewhere lovelyreminding them all, in clipped, extravagant script: Take the joy where you find it, and dance on, dears, dance on!

The smell of roast chicken mingled with apple pie and strong tea. Lydia looked around and, for once, saw not absence, but abundance. Her loss was part of her, but it was shadow now, not stormthe echo that let her truly embrace all that remained. In the golden, cluttered kitchen, with cherries ripe in the garden and a trail of footsteps marking every return home, she was surrounded, endlessly, by love.

And so, in a house both battered and bright, scandal and sorrow outshone at last, Lydia reached for her daughters hand and squeezedjust once, gentle and sure. The world outside might never be simple, but here, beneath this roof, forgiveness and hope flickered on, as stubborn and miraculous as spring.