“Of course Papa. I will always be proud of you.” Lydia gradually composed herself. “And the values I learned from my family,” she said with pride. “I will pass onto my own children.” Robert smiled down at Lydia.
“It’s not the Duke of Chester,” the vicar said, as the grand coach came to a halt by the church gates. “It’s the Dowager Duchess of Chester.” He tried to maintain a calm exterior, as he scuttled down the pathway to greet her.
The vicar could not remember the last time a guest of such esteemed lineage, had called upon his humble abode. Especially, one who rode with a prestigious hammer cloth over the driver’s seat, bedecked with livery colours.
“I’m coming ma’am,” he boldly announced, tripping over the hem of his papal smock. He barged head first into a group of women, then quickly composed himself to greet the duchess.
As she glumly alighted from the velvet-upholstered coach, the local women made brash comments about her elaborate turban, adorned with jewels and ostrich feathers.
The duchess and the Marquis of Surrey quickly swept past the women and joined the vicar, who ushered them towards the church entrance. However, the vicar’s incessant chatter in the face of the duchess began to irritate her. At one point, the marquis had to literally knock back the vicar with his cane.
However, ‘no pain no gain’ was the vicar’s motto. He might get a large donation for the chapel or a leg up to bishop. Once his highly prized catch was led into the church, he scuttled down the pathway, to await the next grand coach to grace his chapel.
As the marquis entered the church foyer, he returned a respectable bow to Robert and Lydia. He knew them through their hunting connections. “Lydia,” he exclaimed. “You look enchanting in your finery. Chester is a very fortunate gentleman.”
“Thank you my Lord,” Lydia said a little embarrassed.
He looked around for his sister, who had stayed by the church doorway. “Don’t you find Lydia’s attire very agreeable?”
“My back is aching,” the duchess loudly complained. “The country lanes around here are very bumpy.” She acknowledged her with a curt glance. “I see a very common terrain. Not very agreeable to the eye at all.”
She looked into the chapel and observed Lydia’s family. “And a very varied and humble gathering,” she reflected with disgust. “In a small chapel of no significance or distinction.”
The marquis was very perplexed by her statement. However, the sentiment was not lost on Lydia. She got the message loud and clear. Chester was marrying a common, country bumpkin, not befitting their social status. The lingering silence between the two women spoke volumes.
“Robert.” The voice of the marquis broke the awkward silence. “We hope you will appreciate the fine coach we have lent Chester for his wedding.” The duchess walked over to her brother and stood by his side. “He wants to make the best impression for his beautiful bride.”
The duchess returned a cold look. “I fear your statement should be the other way around. It is they that should impress us.”
Lydia tried to stay calm. The insults were coming fast and furious from her future mother-in- law. However, once she got that ring on her finger and an heir apparent for the estate, she will be in a better position to return her own insults one day – by the bucketful.
“When will the Duke of Chester arrive?” Robert asked the marquis, as he pulled out his pocket watch on a decorative fob. “It is just past noon.”
“He should have been here by now,” the marquis replied, a little concerned. “He left in his coach about eleven.” He walked over to the doorway and stared into the distance. “We left shortly after him,” he pondered. “About quarter past the hour.”
“Maybe he’s gone to the wrong church,” the duchess said with a cunning smirk. “If he’s not here by half past the hour, we will return home,” she loudly announced. She wished she could leave now. She had seen enough of Lydia’s impoverished roots for a life time.
“Papa?” Lydia felt uneasy as she whispered in his ear. “I fear trickery is at play.”
“The duchess?” He whispered back. “She is a very arrogant woman, but I cannot believe she would cause such bedlam on her son’s wedding day.”
“How wrong you are.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I am all at sea.”
The duchess overheard their hushed voices. “What are they talking about?” She complained to her brother. “How rude to whisper in front of people as esteemed as ourselves.”
“Stop this nonsense!” The marquis commanded. The duchess was taken aback by his sharp rebuttal. “You know Chester should have been here by now,” he emphasised in an agitated voice. “We should have let Higgins’ drive Chester to the church.” Why did he listen to his sister’s advice? “He’s more familiar with the lanes around Burford village.”
“Stop this tittle tattle. The coachman’s son is a first rate fiddler,” the duchess declared in her defense. “He may only be 16, but he’ll soon get to know the area.”
Robert overheard their remarks. “Has the boy been to this village before,” he enquired. “Deep in the countryside?”
“Not a humble hamlet like this,” the duchess coldly replied. “He’s more accustomed to coach journeys between grand estates and affluent town houses.”
“Under the guidance of his father,” Robert interrupted. “I assume?”
“I fear not,” she replied with a faint smile. “Today will be a good practice run.”
“A practice run on his own.” Robert had his own concerns about the boy. He had been pushed into riding a large coach, to an unfamiliar village deep in the countryside.
Robert addressed the marquis. “Is he used to handling a large coach, over the rough terrain of country lanes?” He failed to answer him.
“Papa?” Lydia pulled on his arm. “I hope the coach has not met with an accident?” She felt her heart race. “Some of the country lanes were clogged up last week, after a bout of summer showers.”
“My dear child,” the duchess replied in a lofty voice. “The coach is a very sturdy model.” She looked at the barouche carriage at the gates of the church. “Far superior to that pony and trap outside.”
“That is a very fine carriage,” Robert said proudly. “It has been lovingly decorated with garlands by all the family.”
“Indeed.” She cast a superior glance at the humble cart. “You cannot see the wood for the trees.”
“And a very charming carriage it is.” Her brother acknowledged. “For this part of the country.”
“Make haste everyone.” The vicar stepped inside the foyer. “I see a very fine coach, pulled by four horses riding over the hill.”
“Poppy cock,” the duchess muttered under her breath. “The coachman’s son is smarter than I thought.”
Robert glared at the duchess. “Come along Lydia.” They swept past her into the chapel. “Chester will be proud to have you as his wife.”
The marquis held out his arm for the duchess. “Chester has made his choice. We must make the best of it.” He observed her downcast expression. “Try and display a more amenable face my dear,” he politely urged. “As we take our seats in the chapel.”
“With the peasants,” she quipped. She reluctantly took his arm and walked down the aisle. “I’ll never forget my own wedding service,” she loudly announced for all to hear. “At St George’s Church in Hanover Square, London.” She passed Lydia’s family. “Only the very affluent families marry at the church of the ton.”
Chapter 6
The vicar stood by the church gates quietly praising the lord. His prayers had been truly answered, as another opulent coach raced towards the church. God moves in mysterious ways, but he never thought he’d blow two prestigious coaches his way.
The gentry were very good at ‘passing his palm with gold.’ The extra money would certainly mend the leaking church roof before winter. He might even have a little bit over to get Mrs Jones a nice dress for the summer ball. However
, a large crack in the stained glass window was beginning to get on his nerves.
As the grand coach drew nearer, he pondered his dilemma - a nice dress for the wife or a new stained glass window. As the coach came to a halt outside the church, he had made up his mind.
A new window, Mrs Jones could borrow another dress off her sister. However, that presented another problem. How would he get the new window installed, without his wife being aware of the extra cash? He didn’t have time to ponder the consequences, as he rushed over to greet the new coach.
Inside the church, Lydia nervously waited at the altar with her father. She was glad when her cousin, Sarah Spencer, joined them. She was her head bridesmaid and looked splendid in a light gown, with a matching garland tied around her Grecian curls.
“How are you feeling Lydia?” She gently held her hand for support.
“Sick to the stomach,” she replied. “But I wouldn’t miss this moment for the world.”
“Of course.” She squeezed her gloved fingers. “You’ll remember this day for the rest of your life.”
Lydia smiled down at the younger bridesmaids, blonde twins Elizabeth and Georgina. They swirled around the chapel in matching white dresses and straw bonnets trimmed with white ribbons, with a posy of fresh flowers in their tiny hands.
Some of the women began to laugh at them, as a rival dance display emerged between the two girls. The dance display got more frenetic, as they tried to outdo each other with more dramatic dance moves.
Everyone was amused by their antics, apart from the duchess, who made loud complaints about the children and the mediocre garland displays in the church.
Ten minutes later, Lydia was still waiting at the altar. “Papa?” She looked back at the empty doorway. “Why is Chester taking so long to walk into the church?”
“Maybe he’s taking a few deep breaths,” Robert replied. “Getting married is nerve racking for men too.”
“It’s the vicar’s fault,” Sarah said as she looked over her shoulder. “He likes to advance his connections with mind-less chatter.”
“If that’s the case,” Robert said impatiently. “He’ll be there all day.” He began to march down the aisle.
“Papa,” Lydia called out. “Where are you going?”
“To stop the vicar using your wedding day, as a stepping stone to bishop.” Robert’s voice echoed around the church. “And to point your future husband towards the altar.”
“Papa, stay here!” She noticed the duchess watching the commotion with a slight smirk. “You’re supposed to give me away.”
“That’s not going to happen without the bridegroom,” Robert declared, as he boldly marched out the church.
“Leave him be,” Sarah said with a gentle hug. “He’ll calm down when Chester comes into the church.” She looked down at Elizabeth and Georgina. They had finished dancing and were now pulling petals from their bouquets.
“It’s so humiliating waiting this long.” Lydia glanced back at the duchess. “Especially, with her glaring at me.”
Sarah caught sight of her steely gaze. “And that’s how she is before you get married.”
“My nerves can’t take anymore.” Lydia wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “I’m so hungry. I should have eaten my breakfast.”
“You haven’t eaten anything,” Sarah said. “Not even a piece of bread?”
“I was too excited.” She gripped her stomach. “I just had a cup of milk.” She became distracted by the sound of loud voices outside the church doorway.
“That’s Papa’s voice.” His deep tones echoed down the aisle.
The duchess was not impressed by the delay. “Listen to the coarse tones of the future in-laws.” She leaned over to the marquis. “See how common they are.”
The young bridesmaids loudly yawned at each other. They had lost interest in their headless flowers and began to pull faces at each other, with strange animal sounds.
“Stay here Lydia,” Sarah gently ordered. “I’ll see what the delay is.”
***
“What!” Robert screamed into the best man’s face. “The duke is not here!”
Lord Sebastian Eton took a few steps back. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
“Mr Somerville, please refrain your manner.” The vicar intervened. “I understand your distress, but Lord Eton is merely passing on a message.”
“Mr Somerville.” Sarah rushed over to his side. “Calm down. You’re not in the best of health.” She stared at the best man with a look of astonishment. “What on earth has happened?”
“The Duke of Chester cannot attend his wedding,” he said abruptly. “He has been called away on urgent business.”
“That cannot be!” Sarah said with a gasp.
Lord Eton fingered his hat in his hands. “He sends his apologies.”
“Apologies!” Robert could not contain his anger any longer. “What can be more important than marrying my daughter?”
“I can understand your distress Sir,” Lord Eton appealed to him.
“No you don’t.” He stared into his face. “Where the bloody hell is he!”
“Mr Somerville.” The vicar stood in front of him. “I will not tolerate foul language in the vicinity of my church.”
“Forgive me vicar.” Robert let out an exasperated sigh. “I fear there is foul play behind the scenes.”
“I think you’re right.” Sarah held onto his arm, with a penetrating stare at Lord Eton. “Lydia deserves a better explanation than that.”
“Chester was recalled to Whitehall in London.” Lord Eton replied in an official tone. “He went this morning.”
“What are you talking about?” Robert interrupted. “The duke was forced to retire from the army after his father died.”
“He’s right,” Sarah confirmed. “If Chester got killed in the peninsular wars, the duchess would have no heir to carry on the family name.”
“I’m aware of that,” Lord Eton said haughtily. “This is a different matter. He was briefed on a special mission.”
“A special mission,” Robert said sarcastically. “Not to marry my daughter.”
“That cannot be true.” Sarah returned a hostile stare to Lord Eton. “Doesn’t Chester want to marry Lydia?”
He ignored Sarah and turned to Robert. “The mission will be executed abroad.”
“Lord Eton?” Lydia stood in the entrance in a confused state.
“Lydia.” Sarah walked over and tried to comfort her. “Chester is not here.”
“What.” Tears filled her eyes. “That cannot be.” Robert walked over and gave her a gentle hug. “Papa, what’s going on?” She felt sick when he failed to reply.
“I’m sorry Lyd
ia.” Lord Eton stepped forward. “The Duke of Chester is not going to marry you.”
“But why?” Lydia said in a state of shock. “Has he stopped loving me overnight?”
Lord Eton returned a blank expression.
As Lydia began to sob uncontrollably, Sarah could not contain her contempt. “Lord Eton,” she demanded. “You must seek the duke out and speak to him.”
Lord Eton glared down at her. He did not tolerate harsh commands by a slip of a girl from a lower order. “I fear it’s too late my dear.” Lydia felt light headed, as a panic surged through her body. “He left for France at dawn, on a secret mission for the army.”
“How could he do this,” Lydia cried against her father’s shoulder.
“I wish it could be different Lydia,” Lord Eton said with a serious expression. “But he won’t be coming back.”
“I’ve been jilted at the altar.” Lydia collapsed in her father’s arms. “The duke has abandoned me!”
Chapter 7
Lydia’s Confectioner Shop. York, England. Summer 1813.
The next two years passed in a blur, after Lydia was jilted at the altar. She was eighteen now and determined to get on with her life. But that was easier said than done. Despite, Chester being
the one who abandoned his beautiful bride, it was Lydia’s reputation, which came under attack, not his. Wild rumours flew around the village, that she might have consummated their love before the marriage, which left her reputation in tatters.
However, another rumour occupied the gossipmongers, which came from the vicar’s wife. She had heard that before the duke’s father died, he had made plans for Chester’s betrothal to the wealthy heiress of the Duke and Duchess of Oxford.
They were an affluent family with links to royalty and would have been an ideal match for Chester. When he inherited his title and the family estate, the duchess assumed that he would be betrothed to the wealthy heiress, but nothing came of the rumours.
Lydia had heard from a cousin in the army, that Chester was still fighting in the peninsular wars with his regiment. He was in affect ‘married to the army’ and had no intention of returning to England.
Lydia didn’t care anymore, she had made a new life for herself in York. A historic town in the north of England. She was also a wealthy woman in her own right, but not in the way she had planned.
A month after she was abandoned by the duke, her beloved father suffered a heart attack and died. He had suffered ill health for a number of years; but the passing of his wife and the scandal of his daughter being jilted, took a toll on his health.
Lydia was grief stricken by her father’s death, but was determined to make a fresh start. The trustees of Robert Somerville’s will, bequeathed that Miss Somerville as the only surviving child of his union with Ellen Somerville, be furnished with the capital from the sale of his two bakeries under the direction of her father’s brother, Tom Somerville. Tom’s son Harry, Robert’s favourite nephew, inherited the third bakery.
***
Now that Lydia had substantial capital to make a new life for herself, she escaped to York in the North of England, for a holiday with her Uncle George and Aunty Marianne. They used to run a farm in the stunning landscape of the Yorkshire dales.
It was well stocked with cows, sheep and horses. Marianne used to grow her own vegetables and potatoes, along with an extensive herb garden. She was also skilled at preserving, brewing, cheese making and curing.
Lydia was very close to Marianne, she was Ellen’s sister. She spent many childhood holidays playing with Marianne’s two older daughters. When the girls grew up and moved away from Yorkshire with their own families, George and Marianne retired from the farming business.