Not for a moment had she forgotten last night—not any of it. And it was impossible that he had forgotten any of it either. But he had chosen not to begin the day with tragedy. And why should she? They both had demons to fight. Why fight each other too?
She smiled back.
“Before I came upstairs last night, I agreed to go out riding with Kit and my father this morning,” he said, “to see the farms. I was actually my father’s steward here for a few years after my recovery. Did I ever tell you that? Will you mind if I go with them?”
She minded very much. She would be left alone with his mother and Lauren and the children. But what had she expected? That she could cower in his shadow for as long as he chose to remain here? This was the family she had married into, and now she must do all within her power to fit in, to show them that she was not the unprincipled fortune hunter they must think her.
And since when had she needed anyone to cling to in abject dependence?
“Of course I will not mind,” she said. “Enjoy yourself.”
He rolled off the bed and got to his feet.
“Lauren will take care of you,” he said.
“Of course she will,” she said. The viscountess was very beautiful, very elegant, very proper. She had also been kind—even after David’s disastrous announcement.
“When Kit first brought her here as his betrothed,” Sydnam told her, “he and I were bitterly estranged. I’ll explain it all to you one day. Lauren singled me out one day, determined to have a talk with me, and it was clear I was not her favorite person in the world. But she listened to me—reallylistened. She was the first person during all those years of turmoil to do that and to understand my point of view. She forced a confrontation between Kit and me. Both of us were reluctant, awkward, and sheepish. But it worked. Lauren is one ofmyfavorite people. She even kissed me here once.” He tapped his forefinger against his right cheek.
“Did she?” Anne said.
“Jealous?”
“Mortally.”
They smiled at each other, and Anne knew that one thing at least had not died last night. He was still her friend. It was not much to cling to, perhaps, when they were a married couple, but it was definitely something. And she was quite determined to begin this new day with optimism.
“If you get dressed immediately or sooner,” he said, “we can go down to breakfast together.”
It was only as they were descending the stairs ten minutes later that Anne realized there had been no nausea yet this morning. She had been too preoccupied to give it a chance, she supposed.
The rest of the day proceeded far more smoothly than Anne had feared it might. The men left the breakfast table early, and the countess addressed Anne as soon as they were out of earshot.
“We were worried for you as well as Sydnam last night, Anne,” she said. “Oh, and a little annoyed with you too for shutting the door in our faces when I daresay you have had no experience of dealing with my son after he has had one of his nightmares. But we did not hear another sound, and this morning he is as cheerful and full of energy as I have ever seen him. He is usually tired and listless the day after. How did you do it?”
“I merely wrapped him up warmly and held him until he had stopped shaking,” Anne said, feeling herself flush.
Her mother-in-law looked steadily at her without smiling.
“He was foolish,” she said, “so very foolish to go to war—just to prove that he was as brave as Kit.”
“Which he did indeed prove, you must admit, Mother,” Lauren said.
“But at such a tragic cost,” the countess said. “He was very talented, Anne. Did you know that?”
“As a painter?” Anne said. “Yes, I did.”
“Not just talented,” the countess said, “but consumed by the dream of being a great painter. Why on earth he put that dream at risk by going to the Peninsula I will never understand.”
“Sometimes,” Anne said, “men who are quiet and artistic feel the need to prove their masculinity, especially when they are very young, as Sydnam was. What better way to prove it than by going to war?”
All three women shook their heads at the foolishness of the male of the species, and it struck Anne suddenly that her decision to stay with Sydnam last night when Kit had been prepared to deal with him had actually endeared her to his family. Perhaps after all they would come to accept her and understand that she had not schemed to marry a wealthy, well-connected man.
“Do any of his paintings still exist?” she asked.
Lady Redfield sighed.
“They used to hang all over the house,” she said. “But after he was brought back here and long before he was able to leave his own rooms he commanded us to destroy every one of them. Yes, our gentle soncommandedus. They are stacked up in the attic with his old easels and painting supplies. I have sometimes thought of hanging one or two of them again now that he has gone from Alvesley, but I cannot bring myself to do what I believe would still be against his wishes. And I am not sure I would be able to bear to see any of them after so long.”
