“I’ve not been feeling myself,” she whispered.
Clara and Mrs. Pembroke exchanged a meaningful look.
Mrs. Pembroke stepped closer.
“Would this,” she asked gently, “have anything to do with Mr. Ashford?”
Violet blinked.
Once.
Twice.
“I… am not sure why you would think that.”
Mrs. Pembroke offered a knowing, motherly smile.
“Come now, sweetheart. I knew from the moment I saw him. Lily may look very much like you, but she also looks very much like her father—now that I have seen him.”
Violet’s cheeks burned, betraying her.
“I should apologize,” she whispered, “for not—”
“You owe us no apology,” Mrs. Pembroke said firmly.
“It is hardly our business. But I suspected something was amiss the very first time I called you Mrs. Grey. You looked at me like a startled owl. Poor lamb, you rarely answered to the name.”
Her expression warmed, gentle and knowing.
“And forgive me, dear heart, but lying does not suit you. You never once spoke of that supposed soldier husband… only skirted around the topic as though the story hurt to repeat.”
Violet’s breath caught.
She had carried fear for so long—yet all she found in their faces was kindness.
Clara set a cup of tea before her and took the seat beside her, voice soft.
“We only hoped that, in time, you might feel comfortable telling us.”
“I—” Violet tried, the apology dying on her lips.
Mrs. Pembroke patted her hand.
“My dear girl, you have carried something heavy. And you carried it alone. Far too long.”
The words struck something deep.
Violet’s face crumpled before she could stop it.
“I was afraid,” she whispered, “that Lily would pay the price. That if the truth were known, she would suffer for my… my youthful foolishness.”
Mrs. Pembroke’s expression grew heartbreakingly gentle.
“We had wondered,” she admitted softly. “If perhaps you had been taken advantage of by a gentleman. You would hardly have been the first to face such a fate.”
She hesitated, then added gently,
“But when Mr. Ashford arrived in the village, we thought perhaps a mistake had been made in years past. That he had come to make it right. His arrival seemed purposeful. His leaving… less so.”
