“I must apologize for my sister’s behavior, Mr. Sedgewick,” Lydia offered, looking up at Sedgewick through her eyelashes.

“Think nothing of it, Miss Smithfield. Your sister’s behavior could never influence my respect and esteem for you,” Mr. Sedgewick replied formally.

“Thank you, sir. The knowledge that you respect and esteem me is more comforting than you can ever know.” She was the picture of despair, her head bowed, her eyes downcast. She could not help but raise them for one quick peek at Sedgewick, to see what effect her pose was having on him.

It was having all the effect she could have desired. “My dear Miss Smithfield, it pains me deeply to see you in such distress. I would do anything to alleviate your sorrow,” Sedgewick told her, crossing the room to sit beside her on the settee.

“Alas,” Lydia said, raising her eyes at last to his, “I fear there is nothing that can be done.”

“But, please, tell me, what has caused you such distress?”

“Mr. Sedgewick, I do not think you can be entirely unaware of the plans my mother has conceived for me.”

“No, Miss Smithfield, I am not ignorant of them.” Sedgewick said. “She intends for you to marry, I believe.”

“She does, indeed, sir. To a gentleman with whom I am not even acquainted.” She looked up again, tears forming in her big blue eyes. “I must admit I have no desire for this marriage to take place. Yet I do not want to be disobedient to my mother’s wishes.”

“Of course you do not. I have often admired your strength of character, your moral integrity and virtue. You do not esteem lightly the dictates of family and conscience. It is your sense of duty and moral rectitude that makes you so appealing to one, such as I, who regards a woman’s character more than her outward appearance.”

If Lydia found this compliment lacking in any way, it was not apparent. She blushed fiercely, but still managed to smile at the young gentleman who, whatever he might say to the contrary, was regarding her outward appearance with every semblance of delight. The slight smile gave Sedgewick the courage to reach for her hand. “Miss Smithfield, I have no right to speak what is in my heart.” Lydia did not know how to react to this promising statement, so she only nodded, and did not try to remove her hand from his grasp. “So I will not,” Sedgewick continued. Lydia tried her best to conceal her disappointment. “Neither can I encourage a daughter to act in opposition to her mother’s wishes.” At this speech, Lydia removed her hand. “However, although I do not counsel you to oppose your mother, I think it only right that you should be honest with her as to your feelings.”

“What do you think I should do?” Lydia asked.

“It is not my place to tell you what to do.”

Lydia masterfully concealed her impatience at this remark, and Sedgewick continued. “But it is my feeling that a loving mother, such as I am convinced Lady Smithfield is, would be desirous of knowing your true feelings regarding the proposed match. And, as a loving mother, she could hardly force you into a position that you would find repugnant.”

This was not the answer Lydia wanted, and it seemed a shame that a scene that had such a promising beginning had gone so awry. “But, as you know, it is the desire of every mother to see her daughter successfully wed. She may not agree to the dissolution of her previous plan if it is unlikely that I will marry anyone else.” Modesty forbade Lydia from making her point any clearer.

Sedgewick reached for her hand again. “Miss Smithfield, such a prospect is entirely unlikely, even absurd. Your mother will realize that there are many gentlemen who would count it a great honor indeed to marry her beautiful daughter. No, I am convinced that if you are honest with your mother about your feelings, you will prevail.”

Lydia nodded in response, but wondered why, if so many gentlemen would count it an honor to marry her, the dolt sitting beside her would not make a positive effort in that direction.

Emily and Alexander entertained sentiments similar to Lydia’s when they returned to the vicarage to find Lydia and Sedgewick sipping tea with expressions of noble resignation on their faces and in no greater charity with each other than they were before they had been left alone. It then began to occur to Emily that Sedgewick was as fond of melodrama as her sister. Emily believed that he harbored genuine feelings for Lydia, and Alexander had confirmed that belief, so his hesitance in declaring himself did not seem to spring from lack of affection. Indeed, Emily had observed him closely over tea, and his eyes appeared to follow Lydia’s every move, in such a way as to confirm his regard. Yet, when it would become obvious to him that he was regarding Lydia tenderly, his entire countenance would change, and he would steadfastly refuse to peer in Lydia’s direction for an extended time, until once again his feelings would overcome his resolution, and he would begin peeping in her direction once again.