He was about to pour her wine when there came a sharp knock at the door. Lily’s face froze, and she stood from her place. Matthew whispered, “Hide behind the drapes until I know who it is.”
She moved behind the curtains, but the knocking resounded again.
“Who is it?” Matthew called out.
“It’s Amelia,” his cousin said. “I am so terribly sorry to interrupt, but I’ve just received word from Lady Arnsbury.”
A sudden coldness came over him, and he moved to the door. “Come in.”
The key turned in the lock, and then he saw his cousin. Amelia’s face had gone pale, and she handed him a note. “You need to return to London immediately, Matthew. Your mother is very ill.”
It felt as if her words had cut him off at the knees. Despite the secrets Charlotte had kept, despite his birthright or lack thereof, she was still his mother. He had been in denial of Sarah Carlisle’s claims, but he realized none of it mattered. Charlotte was, and always had been, his mother. Matthew would stand by her and their family legacy, no matter what happened. He didn’t want to face the reality that she might die soon enough. She had been in good health until now, and he hoped that it was nothing serious.
He didn’t want to imagine a life without her constant presence. And if the worst came to pass, he did not want the past to stand between them.
A rustling noise sounded from behind him. Lily emerged from her hiding place, and she murmured, “Of course, you must go at once.”
He took her hand and squeezed it, thankful for her support. There was no question that she had to remain here with her mother. But once matters were settled in London, he intended to marry Lily and retire to one of the more isolated estates.
“I will return as soon as I can,” he promised. He ventured a crooked smile at Amelia. “And you can tell Lady Wolcroft that you won the wager.”
After he had gone, Lily returned to Penford, accompanied by her footman. All throughout the ride, she could hardly contain her scattered thoughts. Matthew wanted her to be his countess, and she believed they could now make a good marriage. The thought thrilled her…and yet, she felt a sense of worry for his sake. And now, even more so, because he’d received bad news about his mother's illness and had swiftly returned to London.
Lily prayed that Charlotte would be all right. Matthew had lost his father several years ago, and it would wound him deeply to lose her, too. She wondered if she ought to follow him to London. Would he want her there? Or would her presence only invite gossip after her mother’s outburst, weeks ago? Her thoughts were a muddle right now, even more so, now that she had indulged in a wild liaison in Amelia’s library.
Her cheeks flamed at the memory. And no matter how she might try to justify it, the choice had been hers, and she did not regret loving him.
When she arrived home, she dismounted from her horse and gave her gloves and bonnet to the footman. As she walked into the house, she was startled to find her mother sitting in a corner of the hallway on the floor, shivering.
Lily sent a questioning look toward a servant, but he shook his head with regret. “It has been a difficult day for Lady Penford. Lord Penford said it was best if we leave her be.”
She ignored him and walked slowly toward the corner so as not to frighten her mother. Iris was seated with her knees curled up beneath her gown. Her stare was glassy, and the sight of her made Lily want to weep. The mother she had loved all her life was trapped within a broken mind. No longer could Iris be the steadfast rock she could turn to. Instead, her mother was like a child again, in need of someone else to take care of her.
Lily lowered herself carefully to the floor, adjusting her skirts until she sat by her mother. For a moment, she said nothing, not wanting to frighten Iris.
When the older matron remained silent, Lily reached out and took her hand. Her mother’s skin was thin with soft veins protruding from her hand. Her fingers were cold, and Lily held them, still saying nothing.
After nearly five minutes, Iris squeezed her hand. The gesture of affection was enough to break down her control, and Lily let her tears flow freely over her cheeks. She knew now, that her mother would never return to London. Iris could not attend a wedding in a large cathedral while Lily spoke her vows to Matthew.
No, the wedding would have to be here. And perhaps that was right and fitting, if they held the ceremony in her mother’s garden.
“Would you like to join me for tea?” she whispered to her mother.
Iris didn’t answer, but when Lily put her arm around her waist, her mother stood up from the floor. She helped her into the sitting room and guided her into a chair. Then she rang for tea and refreshments. The footman agreed to send for them, but before he left, she inquired, “Where is my sister?”
“She is in her room resting,” he answered. “She was not feeling well today. Lord Ashton is with her.”
“Did my mother hear of Rose’s illness?” The news might have sent her mother into a decline.
“Unfortunately, Lady Penford did learn of it and was most upset. She feared Lady Rose would lose the baby.”
“And?” Lily raised her eyes to the servant who shook his head.
“She will be fine. Lady Rose said it was merely dizziness and exhaustion.” He excused himself and went to fetch the tea.
Lily was relieved to hear it. Once the footman was gone, she pulled her chair closer to Iris. “Did you hear what he said, Mother? Rose is going to be fine. She’s only resting. The baby is fine, too.”
Iris clenched her hands together, squeezing them in her own rhythm. Her eyes remained clouded, as if she saw something off in the distance.
