Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 74: Lydia Knows Theodore Has Secrets.

Chapter 74: Lydia Knows Theodore Has Secrets.

Earlier before midnight.

Office, Theodore mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

****************

Lydia went to bed immediately after dinner because Theodore had made love to her so thoroughly, he got energised while she rested.

She had been busy the whole day, he needed to relieve her and give her an enjoyable exercise instead.

Theodore was now downstairs in his office going through some work when the dark wooden door swung open. A dark sillohuote stepping inside with a bit unsteady steps, drew Lord Theodore’s attention from the files settled on the table in front of him to find Conan carelessly settling on the stool in his office.

"Where were you?" he asked with a frown.

Conan ran his hand through his dark blonde hair before answering "Around town" he held a paper tightly in his hand.

Theodore narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you drunk?"

"Are you married?" he sassed "Of course I’m drunk, slightly"

"Hmmm" Theodore nodded before bringing a topic to light "Hound seems to have taken a great liken to Lydia"

"Not really, I’ve seen the way he looks at that her lesser stupid sister" Conan nodded affirming his words "He’s trying to win her over" he wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Theodore’s face cringe.

"You’d have to be more specific" Theodore said "I find all the Statham except my wife, to be mentally immature" he completed with a smile in his eyes.

"Hound might be in love" Conan smirked, looking too smug.

"What? With Shi’Enz?" he was genuinely surprised.

Conan chuckled. "So you do know who"

"I didn’t notice" the lord confessed.

"Because you’re obsessed with me and will not look anywhere else but my face whenever I’m within the same vicinity as you," Conan said the words so fast, that Theodore sighed before replying.

"Conan that was cute before I got a wife" he noted "But it’s becoming creepy and disgusting now, go find a new person to fiend" he advised.

Conan got the papers and immediately went to a pub he felt slightly drunk and he knew he couldn’t face Helena like that, she had completely messed up his head, and he had needed alcohol to perhaps settle it.

Maybe after talking to Theodore, he would then walk to his bungalow then he would feel good and he can read his papers.

"Nothing compares to you Theodore" Conan’s grin widen

"What about the muckraker, Did you get the papers?" he diverted the cringe-worthy topic.

"Yes, I did, I also got one for the lady" he admitted, looking proud while Theodore scowled, he hated other people doing important things for his wife.

"Hand it over and please leave" he rushed out wiggling his fingers.

Conan stood up. "Salvatore is doing some suspicious things, do you not wish to see him?"

His question made Theodore shrug his shoulders.

"If it does not affect me, he can do whatever he wants" he admits coldly.

"But he came to Critic Arley" Conan pointed out.

Theodore nodded, Salvatore is instinctual for all of his life and Theodore can only know him, changing him wasn’t in the book.

"Lydia told me that he took her other sister, he left the stupid one I recommended, he is growing" Theodore said looking at empty space.

Conan exhausted and ready to leave, stretched his palm. "Give this paper to my lady please, you should read it too," he said like a gentleman as he dropped the one-page newsletter on the table.

"Get out and let me work, Lydia would want me in bed with her when she wakes up" he ushered the knight out.

"You’re whipped man" Conan taunted with a dark chuckle as he reached for the door handle.

"Get a wife" Theodore snarled.

Conan sighed as he thought about the idea, he cannot get a wife living with Helena alone drives him mad, living with any other woman forever would be appalling.

*************

Now. After the protest.

Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

*************

"Theo..."

He heard her whisper from up the stairs but it was too dark he couldn’t see her.

"Yes Gooseberry," he replied waiting for her to come down.

She does, slowly, elegantly in her cream night dress. "What is happening?"

Her curiosity about the ruckus she must have awoken from.

"Nothing significant, Come here" he said with a smile, his arms open.

She pressed his arms away to pass for the kitchen. "I’m thirsty," she says.

He smiled, she is mostly cranky whenever she just wakes up "Water?"

He went ahead of her to ask, he stance casual.

She paused, faced him and said. "You had bought ale and rum earlier"

He smirked "I assumed you didn’t notice earlier," he said, drawing her into his arms, he couldn’t help himself, she looked so ravished yet ravishing.

She melted.

Her head on his chest.

"No, sorry I had been too eager to show you the library earlier I saw Joyous take it" she clarified, her apple and delectable scent engulfing Theodore.

"Let us drink then" he said and then he missed her warmth the moment he let her out of his arm to pick the satchel.

"We could have cocktails, rum-based but I know you prefer it pure"

"With honey" she added as she mixed her cup.

Theodore watches intently looking proud and attentive.

He sat next to her, his dislike for sitting across from her strong, his right arm was propped on the dining table as he watched her while he too, drank.

Lydia focused on her drink, the taste too interesting for her to resist, she loved her rum pure and as she took a sip of rum with honey, the initial notes of the rich, aged rum blended with the sweetness of honey, created a harmonious and smooth taste on her tongue.

The rum’s warmth is complemented by the pleasing sweetness of honey, developing a balanced flavour profile that shows on her features, the way she hummed and nodded.

She experienced a subtle combination of caramel, vanilla, and the floral undertones of honey as she continued to drink.

As the flavours continue to unfold, there’s a moment of luxury where the sweetness of it lingers, leaving a lingering warmth from the rum.

Theodore watched with interest as she continued to slowly down the drink without a word, he couldn’t stop her because he was a man in love and anything to make her free.

Lydia savoured the sophistication, appreciating the connection of the rum’s distinct character with the natural sweetness of honey.

She had a satisfied smile as she relished the delightful marriage of flavours in each sip, a smile that drew her husband’s smile too as he drank along.

"I know a thing" she said abruptly her voice loud as she dropped the perhaps fourth cup.

The cup is a wooden litre.

Theodore raised a brow. "You do?"

She ran her tongue over her lips. "Yes, a secret"

"Oh, about who?"

She looked around the dining hall before answering, both her palms on the table. "My husband" Confidential.

"Your husband?" he prompted, wondering what it may be.

"Yes, He has secrets" she whispered.

"How do you know this?"

She took a chug of the rum again and Theodore almost took it away from her. But he will never be able to refuse her for something she desires when he should be grateful she is here with him.

She looked lost for a while as she mauled over the question. "Because Theodore... he never tells me" she confessed, her eyes glassy.

Theodore remained silent watching her.

She nodded as she continued in the silence. "He knows so much, I can see the pain and determination in his eyes, It makes me wonder,’’ she said, tapping on the desk like a businessman.

"Wonder what?" he asked patiently. Prompting her to continue.

"If I will ever deserve to know" she mumbled.

Theodore frowned, she deserved to know to some extent but he was a selfish man and he couldn’t tell her something nature had not intended to remind her of. He alone remembered, so it is his burden to carry.

He shall do whatever it is she will ever want but leave her.

No matter how reasonable it might get for them to be apart, he shall remain with her by his side, this time death won’t do them apart.

Because only together can he be a happy man. He had lived every day after he remembered to wait for her, to meet her, to imagine her and then she had been there.

For him to take. For him to keep.

Nothing shall take her away from him, not even Lydia herself, he thought grimly.

"I have secrets too" Lydia whispered into the silence, bringing Theodore out of his head bubble.

His wife is drunk, her face flushed and her eyes expressive.

"You do? Do you wish to tell me?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at his question, he smiled, her cheeks cute to his gaze. "I shall tell you one," she agreed.

"Okay I am grateful" he commented, his face now a full-blown smile.

She bent closer to his side, gesturing for him to bring his ear to listen. "I read a lot of books," she whispered before letting out a girly giggle.

He resisted the urge to laugh as he asked "Is that the secret?"

"No silly, I learnt secrets from those books" she confessed

"My word, Gooseberry you are a genius" he complimented, her drunk self is not as sophisticated as she would hope she is.

"Don’t call me Gooseberry" she wailed abruptly.

He paused. "Oh? Why’s that?"

Her eyes are narrowed as she looks at him suspiciously now, to her he seems familiar but how did he know? She thought.

"Where did you hear it from?" her question.

"Gooseberry?"

She shushed him quickly, her eyes panicky yet hard. "Do not say the word" she warned.

"I heard your husband call you that" he confessed, his smile widening.

She nodded with a pout. "Only Theodore can call me Gooseberry"

"I can too" he claimed confidently

"Verbally you can perhaps but that does not mean you should"

"Only Theodore shall becaus-"

Theodore chuckled at the silence that ensued because Lydia had fallen asleep on the table.

He left his seat picked her into his arms and took her upstairs.

"Theodore" she mumbled as he laid her in bed.

"Yes, Gooseberry." his response.

After seconds too late she asked. "Do you love me?"

"With all of my heart Lydia," he swore. "In all of my lifes" he added as she started to snore softly, her nose was pressed into his chest, so he pushed her back a bit so she started to breathe fine, her sleep serene as Theodore joined her, the rum having relaxed his body.

The Lady of Critic Arley is a lover of rum.