Then Katherine moved toward the bed, standing over her mother. What did she intend to do? Surely she meant no harm to Lady Celia.
Over her thumping heart, she heard Miss Fitzjohn ask in a low voice, “Where are they? Where did you put them?”
Unable to remain silent any longer, Anne stepped into the room. “Miss Fitzjohn,” she whispered. “Forgive me, but is everything all right? Can I ... help you with anything?”
“Ah, the diligent nurse.” Katherine turned and straightened. “How unfeeling you must think me, not caring for my mother myself.”
Anne made no reply but joined the woman near the bed.
Katherine sighed. “You might at least saysomething—even an insincere ‘Not at all’ to make me feel a little better—but no. Then again, I suppose you are only here to make Mamma feel better.”
In the bed, Lady Celia did not stir, mouth slack, breathing heavily, the increased laudanum doing its work.
Without thinking it through, Anne confided, “If it helps at all, I tended my own mother during her last illness. Praying and doing everything I could for her. She died anyway.”
A moment of silence. Then Katherine asked, “Were you sorry?”
“Dreadfully. I still am.”
“I suppose you loved your mother.”
“I did.”
“And she loved you.”
“Yes.”
Beside her, Miss Fitzjohn stiffened, her distress palpable.
“Your mother cares for you too,” Anne whispered. She reached a comforting hand toward the woman’s arm but stopped short of touching her. She doubted Miss Fitzjohn would appreciate the familiarity.
“Sometimes I wonder,” Katherine whispered back. “I do love her. Though at times I ... hate her too.”
For another moment, the two stood there, gazing down at Lady Celia.
Then Anne said, “May I ask what you were looking for? Feel free to tell me it is none of my business.”
“It is none of your business, but I shall tell you anyway. I was looking for the letters she confiscated, from a man she does not wish me to marry.”
“Oh...” Surprise flooded Anne. “And do you wish to marry him?”
“I ... The point is, they are my letters, written to me.”
Katherine’s voice rose, and on the bed, Lady Celia snorted and turned her head on the pillow.
“Well, we don’t want to wake her. I’ll leave you,” Anne said, reluctant to ask the daughter to leave.
Anne walked slowly back to the dressing room and turned at the door, expecting Miss Fitzjohn to leave at the same time.
Instead Katherine sat heavily in the chair at her mother’s bedside. After a few moments’ silence, she whispered, “I am sorry, you know, Mamma.”
Sorry for what?Anne wondered.
13
The evening of the mill party, Colonel Paine and Miss Fitzjohn came upstairs after dinner to sit with Lady Celia so Anne could attend. Jasper began reading to his aunt fromGulliver’s Travelswhile Katherine sat nearby, embroidering tiny purple flowers onto a handkerchief. Satisfied her patient was in good hands, Anne retreated to her small room to change for the party.
Rosa came in to help her, grinning and eyes alight. “May I dress your hair? I’ve been longing to, I admit. A welcome change from Lady Celia’s grizzled locks.”
